“When Lisa and I came to America, she was a teenager but she just adapted so quickly. I didn’t. I wanted to hold on to Guangzhou. Our traditions, our religion, our everything. It was all I knew. And Lisa didn’t do anything w-w-wrong, she was just more ready than me. She had already learned English before we came over so I had to depend on her to translate for me at first, which I hated. And then she found new interests. She wanted to practice Christianity instead of Buddhism. She didn’t want to come to church with me anymore. She wanted to go out with her friends instead of going to the market with me. I felt like I was losing my daughter to this country. Then Xavier came along, and I felt like I was losing even more of her because she wanted to move away from me to be with him, and she was my lifeline. Without her, I didn’t know how to function in this country. That wasn’t fair to her. And it wasn’t fair to Xavier for me to try to keep them apart for my own selfish reasons.”

Shit. I wasn’t expecting that. I can understand her motives now and now see that I didn’t hear the full story when I overheard my parents talking. Po Po was just scared and tried to cling to the only person who also understood what she was going through. She proceeds to tell me how she made a point to find a network of friends that understood her but how she also made sure to connect with people that she didn’t understand either, so that she could learn new things. She connected with both my dad and aunt. She did what she needed to do to feel whole on her own here. She made this her home.

“Thank you. I wish I had talked to you sooner. I was just so shocked and hurt by what I thought I knew.”

“Understandable. I’m sorry I gave you the impression that I would ever think that way. I,”—she takes a deep breath—“I hope you know that when you were born, it was one of the happiest days of my life. You were so beautiful, with a head full of hair. I named you, you know?”

“You did?”