"I only have two daughters. And you don't even live in the same state."
"Mom, you'll still see her. She'll come see you."
"It won't be the same. She'll just 'tuaj.' She won't 'los' anymore. It'll be different."
In the Hmong language, 'tuaj' means to 'come over; visit.' 'Tuaj' expresses a temporary kind of coming. 'Los' means to 'come home; return to.'
I never realized the complexity of these words until my mother explained them to me. All these years, I've been using them interchangeably. My cheeks burned with shame. When she shared how empty her heart would be once my sister got married, I wondered if I could ever love anybody as much as my mother loves my sister and me.
I have yet to fully understand the bond between a mother and her daughter. It's more than just giving birth to her and providing basic needs, right?
My mother's words: You invest twenty-some years into a life for them to walk away and start their own lives with other people. You know from the start that's what will happen--that they'll leave you yet you do it anyway. You just can't stop yourself from loving them. You just can't stop loving them.
"Then I'll never get married so I can always tell you that I will 'los' home."
"What are you talking about?! I didn't raise you to be forever alone!"
Oh. This is my mother, friends.
Labels: a lesson in language, daughters, it's impossible to make mothers happy, marriage, momma