There used to be a small zit on the left side of my nose, same as my dad’s.
I removed it — cause, according to my mother,
算命的說 that little mark would somehow drown me.
She’s Catholic, but she’ll believe almost anything if you say it seriously enough, so for a long period it felt like she has multi-beliefs.
That’s just how she is though.
Usually calm, yet wildly dramatic when it comes to me.
It’s her version of love: half worry, half devotion.
嚴重程度大概是我大學剛搬出家那一年，
partied too hard 隔天昏睡一整天，沒有和她聯絡，
當我終於Message我母親，
She was like : You’re not my daughter, I don’t believe you.
她覺得有人闖入我家、把我打昏，然後再假裝是我和她聯絡?
Yup…that’s very logical in her mind.
Even now, I’m past thirty,
she still reminds me to drink more water and go to the bathroom
as if I’ve gone my whole life without knowing thirst or having control of my bladder.
She’s very, very special. She reads a crazy number of books —
I used to try to keep up when I was little, and I’m glad I did.
A lot of who I am, and what I believe in, came from growing up around all those books.
She’s also incredibly pure — the kind of girl who, as a teenager,
blushed and ran away the moment she saw her date waiting at the corner.
It’s a miracle my father managed to get her to show up at their wedding.
我母親就像一杯開水，
Whatever life throws at her，都可以成為她生命的一部分。
婚前，她是什麼都不用做的傻小姐；
婚後，她一個人扛起二十幾人份的家務活。
我母親就像一杯開水，
很乾淨、很純潔，但又能接住任何人事物，
任何情緒、任何障礙。
我母親就像一杯開水。
I can never live without it.
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