Beneath The Picture A Famous story

My son called me and asked me to make him an old photo, I wondered what he was doing now?

"PA, I want to tell your story," said My son to me, there was something in his voice that was serious about this project of his pet.

Specifically asked for a picture of one of our old photo albums. The old black and white photography is at least 50 years old and has survived the amount of money that befall our ancestors at home. The picture shows a smiling family, as any photo of the family should. Each frame must represent this impression on the surface, so that it is considered a good image. But under each painting there is a story. Under this picture is the silent story that has been hiding for many years. A story that is never discussed. As in all the ancient traditions of Chinese families, nothing is spoken. Everything is treated within the family. Only what the family shows outside is important.

Under the smile, the picture has a lot. It is a story of jealousy, pain and hatred. I really wonder who invented the line, that the blood was thicker than water. The Chinese family keeps their clothes always well hidden in the closet. I look at the picture again, it is my aunt who we call "Che", the second sister, she is actually the youngest sister of Ah Ma, the next is my eldest sister Ling Ka. Who is now single, and devoted all his life to caring Ah Ma and ah Pa. Now their legs are hardened and they must undergo another operation. Other headaches. Next to her is my third sister, the shortest of all my sisters, we used to call her "3 inch fingernails" in Mandarin or more often, punishment ka. Next to her is my second sister, I was very close to her because she was the one who was responsible for caring for me when I had measles. He has a mole that God painted on his face. We call her now Maureen, her Catholic name, when we attend a missionary school. Besides Maureen is Ah Ma.

Ah Ma, my mother, the family Dragon Lady, now on the old luggage as a burden for every person in the family. It's amazing how a mother can bring nine children, but no one is willing to take it. He came on my shoulders to bear this burden, but it was my wife who suggested that she was us to the mother in all she said, "We have two children too, Peter." "One day we will have the grace of AH-and-ah-yip." True. Mother survived a World war, recessions and many family feud that embarrassed some of the dramas of Chinese television. Papa was The melancholy man, the one who worked as if there was no tomorrow, while Ah Ma was the bloodthirsty that oiled our family business. She was the competent communicator, the person of the people, she organized dinner during the Chinese New Year lavishly, ordered children and parents, adopted children, also raised with military precision. General Patton would have been proud to have him as an officer. Our family was very liberal. We were business people. We survived the war because we have adapted ourselves. My mother made the deal with the Japanese during the war, so we survived, all of us. She was doing business with the British when she came back. I remember how I went to the resident's office and did his business. She was simply known as Mrs. Yong, not a luxury title. She did not speak a word of English, but somehow managed to teach the woman of the resident the intricacies of quilting work. At 96, they can always entertain Chinese New year guests with pretty candid stories of their golden years.

Ah pa on the other hand, was the one who was buried at work. Without Ah Ma as the second officer of the ship, the company of Ah Pa could not prosper so much. Perhaps he was carried by his second business struggle, which I had to intervene. He could have chosen the eldest son, but he did not. He chose me. For the reason that I will never know, the company was torn in two by my second uncle. When it comes to money, there is no such thing as water or blood, only hard money and cold victory. I had to come all the way back from Australia, I had dreamed of becoming a master there, but the goal took a different turn for me. I solved the business dispute from Ah PA to 21. My innocence is gone. Mama was always after me.

It was then that the hatred began, almost 30 years ago, that the father died. That night, after reading the will, my family and I became the number one public enemy. My eldest daughter was a teenager, under five years old. Even after 30 years, their hatred and jealousy persist, the brothers may be less attractive than hatred. My empire, which I built with my own hands, was torn to pieces. How did I survive? The Young brothers and sisters of the photo are in the front row. I'm on the right side. Behind me is my big brother. The rest was too young to know the truth, everything new was half the right truths. I had kept my silence in fact, for the facts were too sore. It is better for one to suffer than anything to endure this pain. Ah Ma knew, maybe he decided to follow me. "Until she takes the last breath," she said. I smile, because every year she lives, my wife and I joke, it takes two years. I saw myself in the picture again. Although my youngest son, his mother, resembles his enthusiasm, his nature remembers me. One of my few hopes that I will take now.

It should have been pragmatic, but it is the betterplace. The eldest is all that must be like a son. But the youngest is in the division. I lost that when I was 21. He will also lose it when the reality of the cape and pulls his flying soul to Earth. Sad, but true. He has a degree in marine biology if he prefers to be a lawyer. Now he has resigned. He says he has to find himself. What am I going to do with my son? He did not mention that he never brought home a girlfriend, unlike the elders. My wife and I asked myself.

"Dad, I want to tell your story."

My story? Where do I start? I think turning my look at black and white photography lying on the coffee table, I can only shake my head and tremble at the idea.