My daughter, Jamie Jasmine (JJ), has just left home to pursue her studies in Melbourne, Australia. In fact, she just landed there first thing this morning, having flown from KK shortly after 1pm yesterday, and transiting in KLIA for a few hours. Over the last couple of weeks, she's been on her toes, running errands and making arrangements upon arrangements for her departure. It hasn't been very easy to enter Australia. So many requirements to meet in relation to the student visa as well as Covid safety measures.
The original plan was that her mom was to accompany her to Melbourne, get her settled in and seeing that all goes smoothly before flying home alone. Unfortunately until the very, very last minute, Australia was not welcoming international visitors. So JJ had to fly alone.
Mommy and daddy have both been busy telling JJ what to do and what not to do; how to deal with this and that. Mommy even went to the extent of supervising JJ packing her bags. Yesterday, after we saw her off at the airport, the instructions kept going through WhatsApp.
This morning, when mommy woke up at 6:30am, even before rising from the bed, the first thing she said was "JJ must have arrived in Melbourne."
The parental instinct is a strange thing; we're all born with it in varying degree of strengths. It can be a good thing, but it can also be a bad thing, depending on how you look at it and from whose perspective. Elsewhere in this blog, some of my loyal readers would have come across some of my posts on Typhoon Diana, for example, this article written some years ago.
This morning, the family chat continued and JJ kept us updated through WhatsApp almost as soon as she was able to get a local SIM card. Then there was a break when she was busy at the university to sort out some paperwork. I took the opportunity to read back some portions of the chat, just in case I've missed out some important information. And then to my horror, I noticed something terrifying - I have been behaving a lot like Typhoon Diana!
Accordingly, I had a separate private chat with my wife. This is a verbatim of that chat:
"Been looking at our family chat, and had a big revelation! Both of us have fallen victims to the parental instinct. We have become my mom and your mom! JJ is 19 and will soon turn 20 this coming July. She has left home to a foreign land and now has a lot to explore, a lot to learn, a lot to experience. And of course along the way, she will no doubt make mistakes upon mistakes, but she will learn from those mistakes.
Our chats, I've noticed, have been mainly instructions to her of WHAT to do, HOW to do, WHEN to do. It is the kind of crime that I promised myself NOT to commit years ago! Yet I am committing it now! Let's make a pact, and take a step back. Let her learn like how she's supposed to learn. Let's refrain from telling her what to do. If she has a problem and needs our advice, let her take the first step to seek our help if she so chooses. And of course we shall help as much as possible. Let's play the part of the supporters, and put her in the driver's seat for as much as possible!
And in due course, if she makes a mistake, then so be it. We have all made mistakes before. Let's not deprive her of the true meaning of growing up."
Just in case you're wondering, yes, long messages that come in several paragraphs like the above are quite normal when I'm chatting. I'm cursed with that habit, perhaps because I usually have a lot to say, but also maybe simply because I like to be thorough!
My wife replied:
"I don't think we're patronizing her. We're only reminding her."
And I responded:
"No need lah. We've told her... we've guided her enough. Baby bird has left the nest. Let her fly. For better or worse, let her explore."
In the end, my wife conceded, though I'm not fully convinced:
"Bah"
And that very short response is also very typical of her.
I'd expect the fight against the parental instinct will continue over the coming months, if not years. I hope my wife and I can keep reminding each other to be strong and committed. But I have a feeling it will be an uphill task for my wife!
