806/30/2022 - 16:20
Been meaning to write to my mum. 10 drafts later, I still cannot press “Send”. I just can’t. I can’t find the right words. I can’t say it in any other way but one that’ll start a fight. She keeps writing me texts to know what she could buy for the kids. But we don’t want her to buy anything. “We don’t need anything” I keep telling her. “We literally have everything the kids need.” But having everything is never fucking enough, is it?
I tried to tell her politely more than once. “Stop sending candies in these tiny little plastic wraps… actually stop sending candies at all.” We don’t need more sugar. We make cakes at home. We like to bake them, we like to eat them, it’s already a great privilege.
Stop sending cloth (hinted: made by enslaved women and kids), stop sending shoes, stop sending trash in the form of toys. We already have everything. And I mean it. We have so friggin much. Clothes for everyday of the week and every season, we have a tablet and a computer we use to watch cool stuff together, we have food, we have good beds + futons for visitors, we have cool toys that can last ages, we have bicycles, we have a little scooter thing that my son loves.
We have so, so, so much, I even fail to think of something we want, let alone need.
And listen, whenever I decline, she tells me: “this is my pleasure to spoil them, why do you make it such a big fuss? Why can’t I love them like any grandma?”
Because, me thinks, that’s not love? That cannot be loving someone. Actually, you know what, that’s probably the opposite of love. Thinking a cheap little token of plastic or cloth can buy yourself into people’s mind is frankly insulting.
She cannot spend more than 5 minutes with my son alone without losing her shit and the only alternative way of showing affection is buying trash.
Whenever she comes visit, she spends a majority of her time scrolling through newsletters, trash-selling websites, and watching 24/7 news. She doesn’t consume. She is consumed. She’s at the end of a life and she still cannot imagine any other way of showing affection other than by buying gifts. She lived 75 years without ever loving. Of course she’d still lean right. Of course, worrying for “the environment” is another pretext to buy newer shit. That’s just what some people have become. Empty. Sad. Incapable of love.
Still can’t press that “Send” button though. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.