So my older sister Sasha is coming to town. She's bringing my brother Sam's oldest kid with her. Nick is five and is coming for his break from New York to destroy everything he sees in LA. Sasha doesn't know about George and I. Sam doesn't know. Nobody in my family knows. George and I sort of discussed it and decided that we would tell everyone down the line once we were actually getting divorced. WTF does that mean, we're broken up right? I guess we're both a) holding on to some hope that the other will "come to their senses" or b) we're too chicken to tell our family because of the dramatic fall out or c) all of the above. If I tell Sasha, she will tell my mom.
Here's the deal with my mom. Before Le Kid was born, before I even got pregnant, I was at work one day between clients and got a text from Sasha. "MOM HAS CANCER" followed by: "colon, Stage III," and my personal favorite: "six months to live." I know, right? Thanks Sasha. That's exactly how you break devastating news to someone. I called my mom who answered the phone in a forced cheery tone.
Mom: Oh hi Frankie, how you doing?
Frankie: Mom! I just got a text from Sasha! She said you have cancer!!
Mom: Oh... yeah?
Frankie: yes!
Mom: Oh...well….I guess she right.
Frankie: Mom, what is going on?! What do you mean?!
Mom: Well, I was having stomach problem, like sree weeks I couldn't go basroom. You know sometimes I drink milk and then I can go basroom, but I just couldn't go, so Daddy said, go see doctor and doctor said oh, you gotta get cat scan. He walk me over to get my cat scan, then after cat scan, he walk me over to hospital.
Frankie: And he said you have cancer?
Mom: I have tumor. It like remon.
Frankie: What?
Mom: Remon.
Frankie: What is Remon?
Mom: Size of a lremon. In the colon.
Frankie: La...La mom. Lemon.
Mom: LaRemon.
Frankie: When did this happen? When did the doctor tell you this?
Mom: Oh…about yesterday.
Frankie: Sasha said you have six months to live, what is she talking about?
Mom: Oh yeah…uh…..plobabry.
Frankie: What do you mean??
Mom: They found some lresions on liver, that mean it metastasize (she said that perfectly!) and you can't control it. They going to operate and take out tumor, but you know, that one means it already spread to all my body plobabry.
Frankie: Mom.
I started bawling. She was crying quietly on the other line.
Mom: Oh Frankie, I be all right.
Frankie: So they're going to operate?
Mom: Yeah, tomorrow.
Frankie: Ok, I'll fly down tonight or tomorrow morning.
Mom: Oh no! Don't come!
Frankie: What? Of course I'm coming!
Mom: No, don't come now. You too busy. Come in six months when I reary dying.
Frankie: As opposed to now when you're just sort of dying?
Mom: You got to take care of George.
Frankie: What does George have to do with this? He's fine! You're crazy, I'm coming!
Mom: He be lonely without you. What he gonna eat?
My parents don’t know that we are separated and they will never know. You see, I’m Korean and if you separate, then you might as well throw yourself off a bridge. Or have a video of yourself taking a shit go viral because that would be the equivalent. To top it off, as you can see, mom has cancer. Stage three. Seven years ago she went into surgery with the prospect of living six months. After surgery they thought maybe she would hang on for three years. It’s been seven years and she still has the energy to yell about how messy my house is, how messy my hair is or to freak out over the fact that I voted for Obama when the debt is… etc. In any case, she has enough energy to yell at me and I want to keep it that way. After she was diagnosed was when my brother and I started trying to get pregnant. No, not together. It was a race to have a baby for a bunch of reasons – I was getting older, feeling my mom slip away from me made me want new life and I wanted her to meet my child even if she was going to briefly hold it with feeble dying arms. I had a baby then my brother had one and mom lives on to yell at us and we love it.
Here's the deal with my mom. Before Le Kid was born, before I even got pregnant, I was at work one day between clients and got a text from Sasha. "MOM HAS CANCER" followed by: "colon, Stage III," and my personal favorite: "six months to live." I know, right? Thanks Sasha. That's exactly how you break devastating news to someone. I called my mom who answered the phone in a forced cheery tone.
Mom: Oh hi Frankie, how you doing?
Frankie: Mom! I just got a text from Sasha! She said you have cancer!!
Mom: Oh... yeah?
Frankie: yes!
Mom: Oh...well….I guess she right.
Frankie: Mom, what is going on?! What do you mean?!
Mom: Well, I was having stomach problem, like sree weeks I couldn't go basroom. You know sometimes I drink milk and then I can go basroom, but I just couldn't go, so Daddy said, go see doctor and doctor said oh, you gotta get cat scan. He walk me over to get my cat scan, then after cat scan, he walk me over to hospital.
Frankie: And he said you have cancer?
Mom: I have tumor. It like remon.
Frankie: What?
Mom: Remon.
Frankie: What is Remon?
Mom: Size of a lremon. In the colon.
Frankie: La...La mom. Lemon.
Mom: LaRemon.
Frankie: When did this happen? When did the doctor tell you this?
Mom: Oh…about yesterday.
Frankie: Sasha said you have six months to live, what is she talking about?
Mom: Oh yeah…uh…..plobabry.
Frankie: What do you mean??
Mom: They found some lresions on liver, that mean it metastasize (she said that perfectly!) and you can't control it. They going to operate and take out tumor, but you know, that one means it already spread to all my body plobabry.
Frankie: Mom.
I started bawling. She was crying quietly on the other line.
Mom: Oh Frankie, I be all right.
Frankie: So they're going to operate?
Mom: Yeah, tomorrow.
Frankie: Ok, I'll fly down tonight or tomorrow morning.
Mom: Oh no! Don't come!
Frankie: What? Of course I'm coming!
Mom: No, don't come now. You too busy. Come in six months when I reary dying.
Frankie: As opposed to now when you're just sort of dying?
Mom: You got to take care of George.
Frankie: What does George have to do with this? He's fine! You're crazy, I'm coming!
Mom: He be lonely without you. What he gonna eat?
My parents don’t know that we are separated and they will never know. You see, I’m Korean and if you separate, then you might as well throw yourself off a bridge. Or have a video of yourself taking a shit go viral because that would be the equivalent. To top it off, as you can see, mom has cancer. Stage three. Seven years ago she went into surgery with the prospect of living six months. After surgery they thought maybe she would hang on for three years. It’s been seven years and she still has the energy to yell about how messy my house is, how messy my hair is or to freak out over the fact that I voted for Obama when the debt is… etc. In any case, she has enough energy to yell at me and I want to keep it that way. After she was diagnosed was when my brother and I started trying to get pregnant. No, not together. It was a race to have a baby for a bunch of reasons – I was getting older, feeling my mom slip away from me made me want new life and I wanted her to meet my child even if she was going to briefly hold it with feeble dying arms. I had a baby then my brother had one and mom lives on to yell at us and we love it.
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