Runaway Bunny

We are alive today. Both of us. You worry about me. I know you worry so much. You live your life and laugh at the TV. Dad annoys you sometimes, but you love him so much. I'm thankful that your voice is the voice with which I was raised. I know how much you care and love us four children. I know how to speak with love because you taught me how to talk.

Last time I left home, you cried as I walked into the airport. You flew across the country when I was in a life crisis. You read The Runaway Bunny and The Stinky Cheese Man to me when I was a kid. The only reason I can read the signs at the airport is because you taught me how to read.

We went walking in a state park, and you slipped on rock and hurt your leg. My painful emotions have scarred several dinners this week. You would walk through the hottest hells to come get me.

Dear mom, I love you. I will never forget you. I know your blood pressure is high, and I know I’m not helping you quit smoking by buying us cigarettes. I know you are going to need a knee replacement from running to catch all of your falling children. You have been infinitely better to us kids than your parents have ever been to you.

When we went scuba diving together, you let me lead. I swam too fast for you to keep up, and you became stressed and upset. I’m sorry for being inconsiderate of you. I know that this wasn’t the only instance of my lack of consideration, but on your day, Mother’s Day, I cherish every moment that you’ve stuck beside me. After my car-wreck, after I dropped out of university to chase a girl, after I found myself broke and in the hospital, you stuck beside me. I’m your Runaway Bunny.

Even though we dove into the ocean, and I ran as fast as the Stinky Cheese Man, you still treated me like your son. You allowed for a peaceful resolution of the stress that I caused you. Thank you, Mom. Even through my eccentricities such as kicking trees (I just want a stronger skeleton so I can hold up the world), you still see me: your son.

You are teaching me how to make money by asking for my help paint your room. Every second I spend with you can never be valued enough. I know I’m going to have to leave again, and I’ll be fine this time around. I won’t break down. I won’t turn back. I know that the kitchens haven’t kind to me. I’ve seen some risky people doing risky things. I’ve never seen you or Dad doing risky things. I’m thankful that you, a good woman, chose a good man to be my father. I couldn’t have ever asked for a better Mom. You taught me how to add and subtract. To multiply and divide. Most importantly, you taught me how to distribute, and when I go forward, I will only add, distribute and contribute to this world. I will never destroy, divide, or subtract. Thanks to you I know the value in what is true.

Even though Dad’s work took us all across the country and around the world, I never felt unstable. I never felt like I was losing life. I never felt like I was losing friendship because you gave me a heart big enough to keep everyone alive in spirit. Even though I’ve spent a lot of time alone, I know that I can get back out into the world and be the leader that you trained me to be. When we were in London, you showed me the joy in learning about cultures. When we were in Paris, you taught me the value of missed opportunities (I’m really sorry we never saw the Eiffel Tower sparkling at night). Every teaching, every opportunity, every valuable moment lives on with me.

If I am Sun Wukong, you, mom, are my Buddha. You shut me up when I talk crazy. You teach me to not be lazy. You are a business woman, and you are a model of a United Nation. Thank you for always being your best self.

Love,

Caige

P.S: Your children will never forget you.