A Decision to Make

A Decision to Make

I called my parents yesterday noon, finally. It was a shame that I had detained

it for so long. Though it wasn’t the first time I had done so, the obtuse but lasting pang still didn’t fail to get me when my mother complained on the phone

that I should have called home more often. I was guilty for that. That I decidedto dodge them was supposed to make them worry less about me, but it turned out to work the opposite way.

Because they could hardly understand why I didn’t choose to work in the office

but work on my own, I wanted to let them not worry about it. I always mentioned

gingerly no matter how hard they tried to be in the know. And because it was awkward, knackering and required deliberation, I hardly called them and always tried to postpone it, if I had to, till the last moment.

But now come to think about it, I start to doubt my way of handling the issue. My purpose in the first place was good—to keep them in the dark so as to free them from apprehension, but did it mean then that I should deliberately keep delaying to call them, and have the right to ask for forgiveness later with clumsy pretexts?

Far more than once, my sister has criticized my way of dealing with things of this kind. On the one hand, what else could I do about it? Once I confessed to my

mother what I was up to, which wasn’t so good, she couldn’t cope with it and lost her sleep, instead of letting it go. I was about to and would like to share

my life with them. But it’s they who couldn’t handle it as need be.

So what’s the point of letting them fidget about home unproductively? Like for

the time being, if they knew I sacrificed stableness of working in the office for initiative and freedom working on my own, they would wholly get lost and start

to the long journey of panicking. Why would I want to that? I ought to, as a grown-up daughter, spare them the preoccupation. There is already enough grubbing

and grabbing of life back home for them to confront with.

But on the other hand, would they be able to appreciate that and became happier

accordingly? Oftentimes my parents take things too seriously. Something I thought was only a pinprick and unlikely to give a fig for would grill them for ages.

Such things as my sister’s personal life, my brother’s business, and my current state, would always the foundation of their apprehension. Because they wouldn’

t let things go and worry too much, we became unwilling to pass on them unfavorable tidings.

I know I have no right to criticize my parents, but how I wish times they might

take things less seriously. They didn’t realize that actually, as their children, we would have been willing to talk to them candidly could they not worry too

much, which forged nothing but only aggravated our agitation. Had they been a bit more supportive and understanding, I would have been willing to tell them my

whereabouts without reservation.

I don’t know if things are going to change for better in future. But maybe I should give it a try. Long time before my friend had told and proved to me by his

conducts that how important and rewarding communication was among family members

. Besides, most people would like to have a change if they could ascertain the change could introduce a productive result. As for my parents, I believe they are

among the very majority. After all, who would want their children to shun them

out of their life, and what could have been sweeter than when parents and children might spend quality time and have a real talk together?