I just need to spill my heart out today.

2 weeks from today we leave for Mexico! 

This is our first vacation together…ever!

Sam went to Mexico in 2011 with his family, and I went to India with mine in 2008, but thats been the extent of our travelling, and neither trip we did together.

I’m adjusting to a simple life in Fort Mac. Sunday was good. I got my friend time in. Saturday McMurtry and I laughed for 2 hours on the phone, and Sunday, Manda called, and John, Rob and I all skyped for a bit. I also got some phone time in with my Maw. Ma has a virus, my dad is getting over a fever, and my brother caught some foot something in the Dominican, so Mama Bear forbid my dad from calling me, so that I wouldn’t worry. Jeez, I wish she would stop that…!! I need to know whats going on at home… especially because I’m so far away.

It’s hard to believe Ma and I are in this space. 10 years ago we couldn’t be in the same room without screaming and yelling ensuing. I look back to when I was 18/19, and I told her, these shorts skirts, the drinking, the party friends are all temporary, and I’ll grow out of it.

She said to me then, "You’ll Look back Archana, and you won’t be happy with the things you’re doing now." Plus all of that "In India girls behave blah blah blah…"

When I was 21, she even tried to marry me off to some rich finance guy in New York (Who was more than 10 years older than me)… which did not bring us any closer together. I guess she thought if the culture was forced on me, I’d straighten out, or my in laws would straighten me out… :S

I know Arranged Marriage is a cultural Norm, and in my family in India it’s still the way they do things. But, I’m the only girl who was born and raised outside of India in my family, and the boys always had it easier, more relaxed. 

Sam and I met when I was 22, and we moved in together (I moved into his place) 2 months later. I only told her right before the wedding that I was living there for that first 6 months I wasn’t living at home. She was sad I lied to her for so long, but, since we’re married she got over it.

I was so mad at her for how she handled my relationship with him in the beginning. But, I have to give her props, because although she was not having any of it at first, now that we’ve grown up, stayed together, and gotten married, she has nothing but the most love for both of us.

I know this is sort of random, but now that Sam and I are talking babies, I feel like I’m seeing things from a different perspective. I feel like I need to just get out some stuff, that Mama Bear and I talked about over the past year, before I got married…

I remember writing here, that if Sam and I got married, my mother would never be invited. I remember fighting with her at home, over the phone wherever and telling her that.

All of our grandparents passed away before my brother and I were born. My mother lost her mother before she was married, and she always told me how close they were, and how much it hurt that she wasn’t there with her.

The divide between us, was my Mom wanted an Indian daughter, and of course, I was influenced by the white Canadian friends I had. I wanted to fit in with them, and I wanted to be my own person.

It didn’t ever seem to matter that my brother although, darker in skin, was the whitest person I ever knew. We referred to him as a ‘Coconut’ (that term is hilarious with the white folk), he was as whitewashed as they come. But, me I had to be the perfect Indian daughter, but let me tell you, thats not easy when I live almost as far as you can from said home country.

It’s awful to say, but I don’t have a connection to my family in India. We went ever three or four years when we were small. But, now, I waited ten years before I went back, and everything is different, and I’m different, and I definitely didn’t fit in. 

I think that is when my mom started to realize that no matter what she tried, I wasn’t going to be like them, I couldn’t even fake it. Adjusting was extremely hard, and everyone sort of expected me to fall in line, and behave like the perfect Indian daughter, when I don;t know the first thing about it.

It’s weird, because in India my parents kind of switch roles. In Canada my mom is the hard ass, and she was always the disciplinary figure in our house. My dad has raised his voice to me so little, that every time he did, it hurt so much I would bawl, and in turn his feelings would be so hurt he would fix the ‘yelling’ with buying me stuff… not to mention, my dad is old enough to be my grandfather, so he goes between dad/grandpa behaviour. 

But he is so chill, and pretty much let my brother and do whatever so long as it was legal, and we were safe. Dad was however the one who waited up til 4am, for me to come home from the bar, or called me to make sure I was ok when I didn’t come home.

But in India, my mom is the chill one, she’s laid back, and my dad turned into some super jerk version of my dad I’ve never seen before.

Ok, end tangent. So in India it seemed like my relationship with Mama Bear seemed to be better, but as soon as we got home, back to normal, fighting, yelling, and at this point she still wasn’t down with the idea of Sam.

I know she was worried that our entire family (gossipy bunch of folks) would be talking about me behindh er back, and my dating a white boy (they thought we were neighbours, not living together) would make her ‘look bad’, but all of my aunts seemed really interested in the idea, and sent me home with all of the fixings of an Indian Bride. 

There were other incidents that caused more and more divide between us. I had to get out of Ottawa in February 2010 (Jeweller Stalker), and when I went home, CoCo came too.

Sam and I were picking up the pieces of the destruction caused by the psycho I worked with, and I wanted my Bear with me. So Ma and I fought over where Bear could sleep. She wanted me to leash her up in the basement, and I wanted her to sleep with me. This small issue caused such a big fight, we didn’t speak for almost 2 years. 

Obviously, I loved her, no matter how bad things got. For me, the only family I had was my parents and my brother. That’s my luck in life, that I only got that small amount of family. I remember saying to her, "I’m tired of trying to keep this family together myself, there’s only 4 of us, it shouldn’t be so f********** hard!". I told her that my part in this family was done, and Sam and CoCo were my only family.

I guess that’s what broke her heart. She always wanted a daughter. My parents were married just over 10 years before my brother was born, and after that rough ten year journey to a child, they only tried again because she really wanted a daughter. But once I grew up, I think she looked at me more like a punishment, than the ‘gift’ she was expecting.

Now, I can see that she had expectations of me. She had ten years of dreams of what her little girl would be like. But by the time I made my appearance, life around her had changed a lot. All of her friends children were in high school, or on their way to University, and Av and I were just babies.

Society changed, the world around her changed, and hence the factors that influenced us growing up changed. You never know what’s going to happen. What sort of people your kids will be, and how their environment will influence them.

I’m the second youngest of all of my cousins. My only younger cousin was born when I was 13, and that difference in age makes it hard enough already to find common ground with them, as well as being born here. 

I don’t know if she didn’t think about these things then, or if she hoped that if she gave me enough love, they wouldn’t matter, but they seem to have taken years away from us, years we could have spent bonding.

I’m a 28 year old Carbon Copy of my mother, and even though that is true, for years and years and years I always suspected I was adopted, because we never shared that ‘mother-daughter bond’, and we never agreed on anything, we never saw eye to eye on anything. We have no similar interests, or similar tastes. I never felt comfortable talking to her.

We just couldn’t get along. No matter how mundane the situation it some how erupted in screaming at each other. 

I can’t stress that we fought. ALL THE TIME. 

When my dad went to India alone for the first time, I was 18, and my mom and I fought for days after he left, and with no one around to mediate us, that friday night, I went to a party at a friends place, and I didn’t come home until late the next morning. Honestly, I don;t even remember where I stayed (probably at my then bf’s place?) that night, or if we partied until the sun came out, but I left home amidst a screaming match, and I not only didn’t tell her where I was going, who I was with, what I was doing, but I ignored all of her calls to my cell. I didn;t even listen to her voicemails I just deleted them once I heard her voice.
I didn’t speak to her for days once I came home, and I gave her attitude, when I did decide I would speak to her. 

I thought she deserved it for being such an over protective mom. But, when she apologizes to me now, about how she feels she could’ve been different, its this instance that breaks my heart. I always treated her like she was in the wrong. I always felt like, if she wanted Indian kids so badly, she should’ve stayed in India, and raised them there. I always said "You don’t understand me, because you don’t understand the way of life here". But, kids are kids wherever you have them, and I broke her heart that day. Years later she would tell me that she spent all night crying waiting for me, worried that something bad had happened to me. Even though I wasn’t far from home, she had no idea where I was, and even (my mom never drives) drove around looking for me just to make sure I was ok. But, me, I never even told my mom where my friends lived, and my dad wasn’t there to show where he would pick me up or drop me off.

But then, you hit your mid twenties, and all of the teen selfishness (sometimes it bleeds into your early 20’s), unravels. This one incident, broke her heart, and of all of the other things I’ve done to her, this one cut the deepest. When I think about kids, I think about this.

She blames herself for not getting to know me, for me when I was in high school, and I blame myself for being a jerk to her. Growing up, I only ever saw my mom cry when she was leaving her family in India, at least until it was me that was making her cry. She’s a tough woman, and I was the one that broke her.

I feel so bad about this, and all of it now. I made a lot of mistakes when I was young, and I thought, I’m young I’m allowed to make mistakes, but she’s my mom and she should have it together,

Now I know that’s not true. I think kids can be a mother kryptonite. I was lucky, until high school I had a stay at home mom, and even though I was a jerk, and I broke her heart over and over, she never stopped being there for me. When I was sick (am sick) she worried (and still worries), she ran her fingers through my hair, and took care of me. If I called her crying, she always listened.

When I got my heart broken the first time, even though she had no idea what to do, or how to handle it, she did the best she could. 

For some reason for many years, when things were at their worst, I overlooked all of the good things, and I never counted myself lucky. 

But I do now. I mean, I know if my kids do the same shit I did, I can’t be mad at them, but I feel like I can understand these actions.

But my poor mother, just got thrown into it all, and Sudbury in the 70’s and Sudbury in the 90’s became two different places, so even her friends were at a loss with how to raise small kids in his fast changing environment, 

Now that we’re more than ten years from that night, I wish I had answers for her. I can say I’m sorry, but I wish I could tell her, where I was, and what I was doing when she was laying in the dark crying, and trying to call me. The only things I can remember, are that there was snow, we were in Nathan’s hot tub, and I drank a whole 26er of Tequila (that then bf gave me for my birthday). But to me, where I was, and what I was doing didn’t seem important, the details didn’t matter.

For some reason, even though I came home in one piece (albeit very hungover), I feel like if I could tell her where I was, and with who it might make it hurt less.

We talked about it before the wedding, in person, and thinking about it still makes her cry. It’s been in the back of my mind since then. I havent thought about that night in years,probably not since we passed notes about how ‘Epic" our weekend was in english class. But she’s been wanting to talk to me about it for 10 years, and when we did, I couldn;t even give her the answers she was looking for.

I lied to my parents a lot when I was younger. I kept a lot from them. I just didn’t think they could understand. I did whatever I wanted, and I didn’t ask their permission. 

I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself completely and I don’t think my mom will ever stop blaming herself, but now that we’re in each other’s good books, finally, I’m going to keep it that way.

There are very few things that I keep from her. One of them being weed. We’ve had the weed discussion, and although, weed grew me out of the party girl with the destructive tendencies, she doesn’t understand Marijuana as anything other than an ‘evil drug’, and I’d rather not break her heart again. I’ll also let her keep thinking Sam is the only guy I’ve slept with. 

Because, she’s right. Sometimes in the moment, and when you’re young your actions seem justified, but now that I’m older, and in the child bearing state of mind, I’m finding myself wondering how to explain my past to my kids. I’m not going to lie to them, but some of the things I’ve done aren’t pretty that’s for sure.

I always thought it was going to be kids that fixed my broken relationship with her, but I guess I just needed to grow up and listen to her, and try to understand her. I have to give her credit, even though she made mistakes, I was a hard child to deal with. 

Now that I’m so far from home, I find I miss her a lot. We went from speaking every few moths, a couple of times a year, so trying to keep up on a weekly basis. 

When I first when to York, when I was 20, my mom asked me to phone her everyday, just to say hi, and because she asked, I purposely didn’t call home, ever. 

Then in Ottawa, I tried to call only when I knew they weren’t home, and leave them an "I’m ok!" message. 

I want my kids to have them in their life, enough. I never got to meet my grandparents. Honestly, Sam’s parents are great, but my parents are  definitely going to be the traditional grandparents. I want them to be around to enjoy it. 

I think all of this stuff I needed to get out of my heart. I feel like I’m ready, and Sam is more than ready… but how can you imagine having kids that are any different than you were? So If I have hooligans, man, I’m not as strong as my own mother, so I guess that apprehension is how to keep it together, when they hurt me like I hurt her. 

I don’t know, I’m starting to forget the bad times, and looking at all of the good moments, I had with my mom. All of this baby talk really makes me miss her.

We talked about Kids, and I love my mom, because she’s objective. Sam and I are lucky in that no one is giving us the "grandbabies" stuff. His parents are still young enough that I’m  not sure they’re looking to be young grandparents… but they won’t be disappointed if we have kids. My parents just want us to be ok, and secure.

My parents wanted me to finish school before I got married, but 6 years, and Sam won’t be a distraction when I do go back, so they’re cool with this now. As far as babies, my mom said keep some things in mind. She had a hard time conceiving. It took her ten years to have her first. She was 35 when I was born, and she’s 64 now. Not a bad age, if we want to wait a couple of years. But, in case it’s not easy, that what we have to decide. If we want to wait a couple of years, it’s no big deal to them, but it’s around my age her thyroid issue came into play, and she’s concerned I’ll get it, and it will make things difficult.

I agree with her on all of it. She’s a wise woman, and she definitely taught me to be objective also. But, my dad will be 76 this year. He’s in good health… I guess. He’s going on a year now that he’s had shingles, and every time I call home lately, he’s sick, or has a cough, or just got over a flu.

My dad is going to be the best grandparent of the four, and I just don;t want him to miss this. He lost his father when he was 4, and his grandparents were long gone before that. I know my parents. They’re aren’t pushy with these things. I know my dad wants to see his grandkids, and my older brother isn’t planning on marriage and kids for at least 7 more years (he says), after three generations of our family having no grandparents, I don’t want the next to miss out. 

All I want is to have pictures of my dad with my kids, because I’m certain my mom will be around for a while, but I’m terrified my dad will miss out on all of it if we wait to long. When Maw and I first started to fix our relationship, Sam and I spoke about kids. Having a kid before we got married, as to give that child ample time with my parents. 

The things is that nothing is certain. Manda lost her father last May, at the age of 50. I feel lucky to have my parents. Both of them. together also. I just want my kids to have the opportunity to have them both as well.