Chapter 92
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'Who is a mother? What kind of person is a mother? What makes one a mother?' These questions ran through the mind of Ryan as he observed his mother. Though there's no clear cut way of defining a mother, he had seen other mothers enough to know his own was different. She really didn't care for him and he was extremely disappointed in her.
He had previously read somewhere that "candles represent a personal sacrifice to light up its surroundings and parents were like candles," he wondered why his parents were so different from others. He wasn't asking them to burn themselves out to cater to him. He wasn't that selfish, a little care would have won him over. May be birthing him was already considered as burning themselves up.
Noah Hawley once said, "mothers exists to blunt the existential loneliness of being a person and that the biggest maternal responsibility was companionship." But for as long as he could remember, his mother was always away. How could she have been a companion to him? He had no choice but to cling to Carl, he was the only one who was at home. His father was too busy running the company, his mother was too busy planning and attending parties for the rich. Catering to the whims of the upper society. She never had the time to spare for him. At most, she only pushed him out of her womb after carrying him for nine months.
He grew up without love and care from his parents, it was just Carl and a few maids. Some how he was thankful she did not really have his time, would he have turned out differently? May be he would have hated Carl just as much as her. Carl was both a father and a mother to him.
His mother had long ignored her responsibilities but now, because of fear of being kicked out, she was crying, grabbing his arm, begging him to return with her. He had no idea what to say to him, where could he go to that she wouldn't find him.
"Ray, let's go home." She sobbed, bringing him out of his thoughts. He was tired and did not know what else to say to her. He had previously told her that he did not want to go back but she's hell bent on dragging him back. She wasn't even aware of the torments he went through in that house. He closed his eyes to hold back his tears, "If you answer just one question, I'll go back with you, if you can't please return." He had set this prerequisite just to see if she was redeemable.
Cleaning her eyes, she nodded, "Of course."
"What's my favourite food?" He asked, looking into her eyes. She was startled and could not hide it. Laughing nervously, she tried to guess, "Uhm.. I mean..," she stuttered trying to remember if he had ever mentioned it.
The tears Ryan was trying to hold back finally fell, he began laughing at himself, "And here I thought you still had a chance." He remarked, pulling his arm away from her. "Hold on, Ray, you never told me your favourite food." She said lousily. Ryan found it laughable. Wasn't it normal for parents to know little things about their children? Even without asking, they should be able to observe, take notice of things concerning their children.
He whipped out his phone and dialed Carl's number, he cleared his throat and cleaned his eyes as the phone rang, "Ryan," he heard Carl's voice through the phone as soon as he put the call on speaker. "Brother what's my favourite food?" He asked, he wanted to prove to his mother that Carl was a better parent than she ever was. "As long as it's seafood, but most especially crabs, why are you asking?" Carl did not expect to hear from Ryan so soon and it was especially weird considering he asked him about what he liked.
"Nothing, just playing a game, we'll talk later," he said, hanging up. He hoped Carl did not think his question was weird or noticed his voice. Carl looked at the phone for a while, he was sure something was weird, so he quickly texted Ryan.
[You can always talk to me.]
It was simple and direct, assuring Ryan of his presence and care. Seeing the text message, Ryan let go completely, as tears streamed down his eyes, his grandparents could no longer bear it, "We've seen enough today." His grandmother spoke sharply.
Ryan and Judith had long forgotten about their presence since they were both quiet. She got up and embraced Ryan, she spoke softly to him patting his back, hoping to comfort. She felt it was her fault for not educating Judith properly and it caused her to be the person she is today. A person who couldn't care for her own child, who only thought of herself. Her eyes turned red but she refused to cry, if she did, who would console Ryan.
Judith stood blanking, watching the scene, she made her son cry and she couldn't comfort him, she was being replaced by her own mother, that was all she thought off. She stretched out her hand to touch him when her father intervened giving her the dirty eye. "You're no longer welcome here!" He yelled, shoving her. He was infuriated that he had raised someone like her, taking his cane, he struck at her, driving her away from the house before shutting the door.
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'Who is a mother? What kind of person is a mother? What makes one a mother?' These questions ran through the mind of Ryan as he observed his mother. Though there's no clear cut way of defining a mother, he had seen other mothers enough to know his own was different. She really didn't care for him and he was extremely disappointed in her.
He had previously read somewhere that "candles represent a personal sacrifice to light up its surroundings and parents were like candles," he wondered why his parents were so different from others. He wasn't asking them to burn themselves out to cater to him. He wasn't that selfish, a little care would have won him over. May be birthing him was already considered as burning themselves up.
Noah Hawley once said, "mothers exists to blunt the existential loneliness of being a person and that the biggest maternal responsibility was companionship." But for as long as he could remember, his mother was always away. How could she have been a companion to him? He had no choice but to cling to Carl, he was the only one who was at home. His father was too busy running the company, his mother was too busy planning and attending parties for the rich. Catering to the whims of the upper society. She never had the time to spare for him. At most, she only pushed him out of her womb after carrying him for nine months.
He grew up without love and care from his parents, it was just Carl and a few maids. Some how he was thankful she did not really have his time, would he have turned out differently? May be he would have hated Carl just as much as her. Carl was both a father and a mother to him.
His mother had long ignored her responsibilities but now, because of fear of being kicked out, she was crying, grabbing his arm, begging him to return with her. He had no idea what to say to him, where could he go to that she wouldn't find him.
"Ray, let's go home." She sobbed, bringing him out of his thoughts. He was tired and did not know what else to say to her. He had previously told her that he did not want to go back but she's hell bent on dragging him back. She wasn't even aware of the torments he went through in that house. He closed his eyes to hold back his tears, "If you answer just one question, I'll go back with you, if you can't please return." He had set this prerequisite just to see if she was redeemable.
Cleaning her eyes, she nodded, "Of course."
"What's my favourite food?" He asked, looking into her eyes. She was startled and could not hide it. Laughing nervously, she tried to guess, "Uhm.. I mean..," she stuttered trying to remember if he had ever mentioned it.
The tears Ryan was trying to hold back finally fell, he began laughing at himself, "And here I thought you still had a chance." He remarked, pulling his arm away from her. "Hold on, Ray, you never told me your favourite food." She said lousily. Ryan found it laughable. Wasn't it normal for parents to know little things about their children? Even without asking, they should be able to observe, take notice of things concerning their children.
He whipped out his phone and dialed Carl's number, he cleared his throat and cleaned his eyes as the phone rang, "Ryan," he heard Carl's voice through the phone as soon as he put the call on speaker. "Brother what's my favourite food?" He asked, he wanted to prove to his mother that Carl was a better parent than she ever was. "As long as it's seafood, but most especially crabs, why are you asking?" Carl did not expect to hear from Ryan so soon and it was especially weird considering he asked him about what he liked.
"Nothing, just playing a game, we'll talk later," he said, hanging up. He hoped Carl did not think his question was weird or noticed his voice. Carl looked at the phone for a while, he was sure something was weird, so he quickly texted Ryan.
[You can always talk to me.]
It was simple and direct, assuring Ryan of his presence and care. Seeing the text message, Ryan let go completely, as tears streamed down his eyes, his grandparents could no longer bear it, "We've seen enough today." His grandmother spoke sharply.
Ryan and Judith had long forgotten about their presence since they were both quiet. She got up and embraced Ryan, she spoke softly to him patting his back, hoping to comfort. She felt it was her fault for not educating Judith properly and it caused her to be the person she is today. A person who couldn't care for her own child, who only thought of herself. Her eyes turned red but she refused to cry, if she did, who would console Ryan.
Judith stood blanking, watching the scene, she made her son cry and she couldn't comfort him, she was being replaced by her own mother, that was all she thought off. She stretched out her hand to touch him when her father intervened giving her the dirty eye. "You're no longer welcome here!" He yelled, shoving her. He was infuriated that he had raised someone like her, taking his cane, he struck at her, driving her away from the house before shutting the door.
'Who is a mother? What kind of person is a mother? What makes one a mother?' These questions ran through the mind of Ryan as he observed his mother. Though there's no clear cut way of defining a mother, he had seen other mothers enough to know his own was different. She really didn't care for him and he was extremely disappointed in her.He had previously read somewhere that "candles represent a personal sacrifice to light up its surroundings and parents were like candles," he wondered why his parents were so different from others. He wasn't asking them to burn themselves out to cater to him. He wasn't that selfish, a little care would have won him over. May be birthing him was already considered as burning themselves up.Noah Hawley once said, "mothers exists to blunt the existential loneliness of being a person and that the biggest maternal responsibility was companionship." But for as long as he could remember, his mother was always away. How could she have been a companion to him? He had no choice but to cling to Carl, he was the only one who was at home. His father was too busy running the company, his mother was too busy planning and attending parties for the rich. Catering to the whims of the upper society. She never had the time to spare for him. At most, she only pushed him out of her womb after carrying him for nine months.He grew up without love and care from his parents, it was just Carl and a few maids. Some how he was thankful she did not really have his time, would he have turned out differently? May be he would have hated Carl just as much as her. Carl was both a father and a mother to him.His mother had long ignored her responsibilities but now, because of fear of being kicked out, she was crying, grabbing his arm, begging him to return with her. He had no idea what to say to him, where could he go to that she wouldn't find him."Ray, let's go home." She sobbed, bringing him out of his thoughts. He was tired and did not know what else to say to her. He had previously told her that he did not want to go back but she's hell bent on dragging him back. She wasn't even aware of the torments he went through in that house. He closed his eyes to hold back his tears, "If you answer just one question, I'll go back with you, if you can't please return." He had set this prerequisite just to see if she was redeemable.Cleaning her eyes, she nodded, "Of course.""What's my favourite food?" He asked, looking into her eyes. She was startled and could not hide it. Laughing nervously, she tried to guess, "Uhm.. I mean..," she stuttered trying to remember if he had ever mentioned it.The tears Ryan was trying to hold back finally fell, he began laughing at himself, "And here I thought you still had a chance." He remarked, pulling his arm away from her. "Hold on, Ray, you never told me your favourite food." She said lousily. Ryan found it laughable. Wasn't it normal for parents to know little things about their children? Even without asking, they should be able to observe, take notice of things concerning their children.He whipped out his phone and dialed Carl's number, he cleared his throat and cleaned his eyes as the phone rang, "Ryan," he heard Carl's voice through the phone as soon as he put the call on speaker. "Brother what's my favourite food?" He asked, he wanted to prove to his mother that Carl was a better parent than she ever was. "As long as it's seafood, but most especially crabs, why are you asking?" Carl did not expect to hear from Ryan so soon and it was especially weird considering he asked him about what he liked."Nothing, just playing a game, we'll talk later," he said, hanging up. He hoped Carl did not think his question was weird or noticed his voice. Carl looked at the phone for a while, he was sure something was weird, so he quickly texted Ryan.You can always talk to me.It was simple and direct, assuring Ryan of his presence and care. Seeing the text message, Ryan let go completely, as tears streamed down his eyes, his grandparents could no longer bear it, "We've seen enough today." His grandmother spoke sharply.Ryan and Judith had long forgotten about their presence since they were both quiet. She got up and embraced Ryan, she spoke softly to him patting his back, hoping to comfort. She felt it was her fault for not educating Judith properly and it caused her to be the person she is today. A person who couldn't care for her own child, who only thought of herself. Her eyes turned red but she refused to cry, if she did, who would console Ryan.Judith stood blanking, watching the scene, she made her son cry and she couldn't comfort him, she was being replaced by her own mother, that was all she thought off. She stretched out her hand to touch him when her father intervened giving her the dirty eye. "You're no longer welcome here!" He yelled, shoving her. He was infuriated that he had raised someone like her, taking his cane, he struck at her, driving her away from the house before shutting the door.
