A Better Kind of Love
Gettting Over My Teenage Self-Conceit and Apathy

Photo Illustration by Machelle Tran| VOX Staff

By Machelle Tran
VOX Staff

We’re gonna die like this, you know…miserable and old,” sings Adam Lazzara of Taking Back Sunday. These lyrics allow me to ponder about my love life. As a true visionary of romance, I believed that love would be all I need to be happy. For a long time, that was how I interpreted the song. But something is different in the way I have been thinking today. Maturity perhaps? I hear the lyrics now, and it seems like I know someone in my life who could die painfully, miserably and old.

My father is 71 today, and that’s ancient by my standards. He has even been mistaken as my grandfather! Well, I won’t beat around the bush. He’s dying. My dad has cirrhosis, which means his body will eventually poison him since his liver can’t filter out toxins. A great way to die, huh?

Pretty Words for the Heartless
“You’re dad is dying and what the hell are you doing for him?” muttered my friend as he turned his back to me. “All I see is you complaining about everything in your life.”

I felt nothing, but as soon as the words come out, the side of my mouth began to twitch and eventually pull into a heartless, lopsided sneer. “You know, you’re right,” I said.

“I seriously don’t care if he dies. He’s getting old, and death is probably the only thing he can accomplish anyway. It’s not like he ever did much for me.” The cruelty of my words matched my smile, and I simply sat there, waiting for a reaction.

“I can’t believe you at all, Machelle…” He did not turn back while the hysterical mumblings escaped his throat. With a shake of his head, he headed home and away from the heartless girl who continued to stand, still beaming.

Teenagers
Two years ago, I was a different person who didn’t care about anyone but my friends and myself. I remember my mom shouting about how cold and selfish I was every time we argued. Each time she said it, I denied it and labeled her insane as I thought, What’s so wrong about putting my life ahead of others? I turned my back on my family’s problems and sulked over my own. While I listened to music, locked away in my room, I blamed the world for putting me through a cruel life that made me obsess over my weight, yearn for love and remain broke most of the time – like a typical teenager.

Although stereotypical to say, I have to admit that we teenagers are awfully self-conceited, and we hold a tremendous amount of apathy. We’ll deny how cruel and apathetic we are until the day it hits us as cold and painful as ice shards.

A year ago, my father’s physician confirmed his disease and said that he had just a few more years left to live. The news of my father’s sickness opened up a void within me when I began to recognize the pain that my father felt from his weakness. I could feel my teenage apathy slowly slipping away.

An Ancient, Brutal Past
Most of my father’s past remains a mystery to me. I know that he came from a wealthy background as the son of a Chinese sea merchant. He grew up in Vietnam and spent many years on the seas as a sailor. My father married at an early age. Actually, he’s been married three times and divorced twice. My mom is the only one he ever loved.

In 1975, my father was drafted into the Vietnam War to fight side-by-side with the U.S. Army against the Viet Cong. Although he would fight against fellow Vietnamese, the fight to end communism came first. During the war, Agent Orange was used to burn down forests in order to reveal the Viet Cong sites. My father had been in the forests when Agent Orange was released. The fire seared his legs and damaged his corneas, leading to cataracts, and the massive heat scarred his internal organs. He was treated and saved by his fellow soldiers, the Americans. But the aftereffects remained. In 1979, the Viet Cong captured and imprisoned him for four years. His last planned escape succeeded. That same year he made his way to Indonesia and eventually the United States.

The Light and Darkness of Love
My father met my mother in California when he was 51 and she was forty. They dated for six months and married. My parents cherished my older brother when he arrived into the world in 1989, but when I was born two years later, my father’s love for me could not be matched. My father did his best to show his love in his own ways. Many times he would hand $100 bills to my brother and me – one, only 7 and the other, a mere 5 years old. When I got myself into trouble, my dad jumped in to rescue me from my mother’s spankings.

But after a few serious arguments and the eventual distance teenagers and parents share, my father and I grew drastically apart. When I turned 15, I had my first serious relationship. My dad grew overprotective and did everything possible to drive that guy away. I don’t blame him. I would’ve done the same thing if I were him. But at the time, I couldn’t relate to his actions. He just seemed like a cruel and unreasonable man. He didn’t know that by trying to protect me, he would further estrange our relationship. I couldn’t see the big picture, nor could I place myself in his shoes – until now. Disappointment engulfed my father, and he withdrew from my life because my actions seemed as though I despised him.

Living the Life
Today, my father and I mumble greetings to each other. There are no more hugs, and the way my father used to dote on me has vanished. I know that he still cares, but time has set boundaries between us that we cannot cross. There’s an established peace that neither of us wants to disrupt.

When we head to the local grocery store, we walk across the parking lot toward the entrance with our bodies two feet apart. A crisp but distant memory bubbles to a time when I was 5 years old: same store, same parking lot, but then, my little hand was cradled in his. Every time this situation resurfaces, I can always feel my hand twitch, desperately searching for that comfort that I felt only from my father. We’ll never hold hands again. There are some things that you can never get back – ever.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow
Last October, my mother considered a liver transplant for my father. It was a way for him to live. My father would wait for an organ donor, get his transplant and everything would be fine. Little did I know that nothing in life would ever be that easy.

Even though my father was already approved to receive a liver transplant, ongoing treatment would cost $10,000 per year. For a while, insurance would cover 30 percent of the total costs. But afterwards, we would be left on our own to pay for the post-surgical medication that he would need for the rest of his life. Without that amount of money, there is no chance for the transplant. We don’t even have enough for bills and rent sometimes. My family and I have spent countless nights trying to figure out how we could find that amount of money. But since we don’t have much to begin with, we forfeited the pursuit.

Emotionally, I’ve gone without a father figure for the past decade, and there’s not much that can be made up. I simply must move on and not sulk about it. He did his best to provide his loved ones with whatever he could, and I’ll give him credit for that. My father still brings a smile to my gravely set expression every day, whether it is with a joke, a funny remark or just his awkward actions that make him resemble a clumsy old bear.

I’ve already begun to accept my father’s unavoidable departing, but it’s my reaction and my thoughts to his death that makes this time around different. I recently made the effort to help out my family members by learning how to control my temper and picking the battles that are actually worth my time. And I’ve realized that sometimes, the best thing to do is to just try living life without hurting others. My family does not see me so self-absorbed anymore, and I am glad to be taken seriously.

The Coming of Age
As teens, we have become more desensitized, whether through the media, the environment or just human nature. But it doesn‘t have to be that way. Maybe caring and becoming fully aware of the world beyond us seems like a stupid task, but it’s more difficult than stupid. We need to make the most of life and realize that the world does not revolve around us as much as we want it to.

Sure, everyone has their own problems, but sooner or later, we all grow up, become parents, and start new lives to become our children’s problems – the cycle never ends. So let’s skip the arguments about not wanting to take out the trash and cease the thoughts of beating up poeple who look at us the wrong way. There are greater battles to be fought for our future and generations to come. We miss out on a lot by simply being apathetic.

Becoming more empathetic and enlightened is accomplished through time. By contemplating how our actions affect others and putting ourselves in their shoes, we finally ask: Does anyone deserve to be treated like this?

I have grown out of my teenage apathy, and I have made the effort to live life outside of my own bubble. After a few other family crises and emotional conflicts in the past two years, I am finally content with myself and with life. I’m happier as a person now that I am more involved in the lives of my friends, co-workers and my family. I know that I still have a long way to go, but hey, at least the cup is half full and not half empty anymore.

Machelle is a junior at Cross Keys High. She aspires to become more optimistic.