When you are sick and you are ten thousand miles from your mom, that is when you start feeling her love and devotion.

When I was a little kid, I did not know much. I was playing in the rain, and then I caught a cold. My mom yelled at me, which made me mad because I did nothing wrong. I was trying to have fun.

Despite her anger, she still took care of me with all her heart. She got me the medicine and brought it to my bed. She cooked for me a large bowl of her infamous potatoe soup. She stayed up all night to make sure I slept peacefully. She stayed at home the next day to play with me even though her phone rang ten times every hour as she was working on an important project back then. She sat down and read me stories about Disney princesses.

I was still mad at her for yelling at me, but I accepted all her special treatment. I ate the soup, took the medicine, and slept peacefully.

Did she ever know I was mad at her?

***18 years later***

When I am sick in America, I am by myself.

My roomate and other girls were busy getting ready to go to a party. I was in my room coughing and coughing and coughing and sweating.

I could barely breathe.

As I made my way through the hallway, girls stared at me as if I were a monster that would spread this virus to everyone.

“You should drink and have fun!” “You should go out with us.” “Alcohol will soothe your throat.” No, I am sorry. I can’t. I am sick.

“Oh, men! You are not fun. Let’s go, guys!” I am staying in tonight. Friday night.

I was sick because I was stressed for a couple of weeks. This time, I did not play in the Rain.

My throat hurt so much that I could barely speak. I asked people for cough syrup, but no one had it, I think.

I asked for some empathy, but I think no one had that as well.

I called my mom. She could tell right away from my husky voice that I was sick. “Con lại ốm à?” – “Are you sick again?”

“Yes, I am.” – “Vâng ạ.”

She told me to take some antibiotics, drink some water, drink orange juice, rest and sleep. She did not yell at me this time.

“I’m going to take the medicine, and I am going out with my friends.” “Make sure to rest!”

And then she hangs up because it is 12 a.m her time.

And I came back home at 3 in the morning. In a crop-top that revealed half of my boobs and a bad cold. Alone. By myself in my room.

I lost my voice. I was coughing all night. I could not sleep. I could not breathe properly. My throat hurt. I finally fell asleep at 5:00 am.

I wish I were little again to be yelled at for playing in the rain. I would rather be yelled at. No, I would rather hear my mom’s voice and sleep by her side.

Here I am. Alone by myself. Taking care of myself. Cook my own meal. Get my own medicine. Rest by myself.

My mom might be extremely worried about me, but she did not yell at me because she knew that this is the lesson that I need to learn to grow up. She might wish that she could take away all the pain in the world to herself and leave the lesson for me to learn, but that is not how life works.

I miss my mom.

Con nhớ mẹ.

You don’t understand how much your mom loves you until you are 10,000 miles from your home.

Thuy Ahn Tran