written for my English ISU, from the book The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan. This is a diary entry of one of the characters talked about, but we never got to hear her story, so this is what I imagine happened.
May 18th, 1985
Dear Diary,
Wow. Mother, my biological mother, she has finally found us. It feels like a fantasy, something surreal, like a dream.
Ever since the moment that I heard her friend LuLing called out to my sister Chwun Hwa and me, a mixture of emotions had been running inside of me. I haven't heard that name, Chwun Yu—Spring Rain, for a long, long time. It sounds foreign, yet comforting to me.
The memories that I have of her are faint. However, in the back of my memory, there lies an image of her tear-stained face. It is blurry, but it is etched into my mind. I have no recollection of what happened that day on the side of the road, other than what our adopted mother Mei Ching told us.
When we were still kids, she'd often tell us the amazing story of how she found us, two identical baby girls sitting on the side of the road like faerie queens, waiting for someone to find us. Mei Ching would tell us about the jewellery and money found stuffed under our shirts, and the old photographs with writing on the backs. However, neither Mei Ching nor her husband knew how to read, so it was months later before they understood your message.
Mei Ching, she loved us as her own, and we loved her as our mother. I remember the day she showed us the pictures and told us our story for the first time. We were six years old at the time. Even though I heard Mei Ching's words, I did not understand what she meant. I did not understand who those people in the photographs were. One photo was of a young man with a young woman by his side. Mei Ching told us that they were our real parents. I remember asking her what she meant, wasn't she our mother? I still remember her sad face answering my question, no, she was not our real mother.
As we heard the story more and more, we began to imagine what our mother was like, and what she'd be doing right now. The only real image of her that my sister and I have is that old picture her left with us. I remember when we got mad at Mei Ching, we'd scream at her, saying that our real mother wouldn't do this to us, and we'd find comfort in those old photographs. I remember with shame how we hurt her, and how we showed her that even though she brought us up, she still couldn't compare with our real mother. She sacrificed a lot for us. She was not rich, and she could've taken the money and jewellery that was with us and spent it on herself. Instead, she spent the money on us, on our needs, demands, and more importantly, our education.
When we were eight years old, Mei Ching took us to Shanghai to look for our mother. But the address that she'd written on the back of the photos no longer exists. I remember clearly that I was crying. I was hoping that we'd finally reunite with her, but it seemed that our hopes have come to a dead end.
As I got older, there was a time when I was bitter. It was during my teenage years that I was bitter and angry at our mother. As I thought more and more about her, I began to wonder. I wondered why she had left us on the side of the road. How could she? Was it because she didn't love us? Was it because we were too much trouble for her? If so, then why did she leave us those pictures and all those valuables? My mind was in turmoil. Sometimes I wished that we were reunited, living together as a happy family, and Mei Ching would become part of our family as our amah. I'd imagine what our life would be like if the house was still there as our mother said it would be, and she was there to greet us with a smile. Other times, her smiled turned into a scowl, and she started to yell at us to leave. Those times, I wondered why we had even bothered looking for her in Shanghai. She left us on the road to die; we were not wanted, so why should we go looking for her? What had she done for us except for abandoning us on the road? Why would we go back to a life where we were not welcome?
When I came to my adulthood, that anger and confusion slowly faded with time and reason. I had learned from school and people about the conditions at the time in which we were abandoned. I came to realize that she'd left us for a legitimate reason, one that may never be revealed to us, but I had enough faith in her and her motherly love that she didn't do it in spite of us. But there is always a flame of desire to know why, why did we end up separated. Along with that flame of curiosity, there is still a small amount of confusion and anger, even though I tried to extinguish it.
After years of waiting and wondering, mother has finally found us. Ever since hearing the news, I have tried to imagine what our meeting would be like. Will we be laughing, crying, or both? How will my sister and I even know how to find her? Has time and age been kind to her?
We were lucky to be alive when so many have died in the war. We were lucky to have been found by a woman as kind as Mei Ching. And we are lucky that our mother has found us after so many years. Then again, twins were said to be lucky.
Mama, please don't cry, your daughters are still alive. Please come and see us soon.
Chwun Yu