In my family, expressing love or affection overtly was not the norm, particularly within the context of our immigrant experience. Many of my friends agree that our Chinese parents often conveyed their care through food, with phrases like “Eat more!” echoing through our childhoods, even when our stomachs were full. However, my father’s way of showing concern leaned more towards a deep-seated paranoia regarding my and my brother’s safety.
As children, we were barred from any activities that posed a risk of injury. This meant no skiing, despite living close to the slopes, and watching from the sidelines during friends’ ice skating gatherings. For my brother, his nut allergy restricted him from nearly all extracurriculars, leading him to create a makeshift camping experience in his bedroom while dreaming of scouting. Team sports were off-limits for both of us.
As my father aged, his anxiety seemed to escalate. I recall a family trip when I got lost in an unfamiliar outdoor mall. When I finally returned, my father’s face was flushed. “I thought you’d been kidnapped!” he exclaimed, almost ready to call for help. Later, when my brother missed a college flight, my dad panicked over the possibility of hijacking.
After I completed college, I sought independence and took a job across the country, wanting to distance myself from my father’s worries, even though I understood his intentions were rooted in love.
My first year in Washington, D.C. coincided with the onset of the second Iraq War. Fearing chemical attacks, my father purchased two children’s Israeli gas masks on eBay. “Keep one with you at all times and store the other at work!” he instructed. Feeling ridiculous, I complied, but soon I stowed the gas masks away and returned to using the subway.
That same year, the SARS outbreak emerged. Despite a global shortage of Tamiflu, my father somehow secured a small supply for our family. He called to warn me, “Don’t share it with anyone. It could save your life.” While I appreciated his concern, I disagreed with the notion of living in fear.
Years later, while pregnant during the Zika virus outbreak, my father’s calls became more frequent. “Don’t go outside! Keep the windows shut!” he urged. I resisted the urge to explain that the virus was nowhere near me, instead promising my unborn child a more carefree childhood.
Then came COVID-19. My father, who had suffered two serious heart attacks and faced other health issues, stopped leaving the house. He began praying for protection against the virus. “If I get it, I’ll definitely die,” he said, and I realized there was some truth to his words.
Seeing him in such a vulnerable state stirred a wave of emotions within me, something I often struggled to articulate. I recognized that I had intentionally distanced myself from him for my mental health but felt it was unfair to block him out of my life. Despite his anxieties, he had always focused on our safety, expressing love in the only way he knew.
Today, I live a considerable distance from my dad, who, despite having received his vaccine, is hesitant to travel. It’s been nearly two years since my five-year-old last saw him, as travel restrictions have kept us apart. The pandemic has taught me the importance of cherishing relationships and not taking loved ones for granted.
I hope we can visit him soon. The thought of hugging him still feels awkward (our last hug was likely in kindergarten), but I look forward to seeing the joy on his face when my son wraps his arms around him.
If you’re interested in more relatable stories, check out this other post that might resonate with you. And for those looking for valuable information regarding pregnancy, the NIH’s pregnancy resources are an excellent place to start. If you’re considering home insemination, Make a Mom provides high-quality kits to help you on your journey.
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In summary, my experience with an overprotective immigrant upbringing has shaped my understanding of love and concern. While I often resisted my father’s protective nature, the pandemic has helped me realize the value of our relationship. As I look forward to our next visit, I cherish the lessons learned from my upbringing.
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