The Nonexistent Fingers

Love is still, used as, a SORRY EXCUSE for hurting their, young children here!  Translated…

In a machinery accident, she’d, lost her middle finger, knowing it would be rude, but I still, can’t take my eyes off of her hand.  My connection with her isn’t just on the surfaces, not only were we related by marriage in the same village of the same ancestral graves, we’d also worked together for more than ten days, as coworkers———we were both the “eight hundred strong” after the Morakot Typhoon from 2009 (with the temp wages of $800 per day), and I was too unrealizing, that all these years, I’d not noted how her hand was, handicapped.

Perhaps, it’s how I’d been, troubled by the deterioration of my joints, that’s what gotten me interested in other people’s, hands?  Or, maybe, due to her missing middle finger, that’s tied to the thrilling nightmares of her, childhood, that tangled itself up like an unmanageable ball of, yarn, getting pulled from the origin, and started, unfolding, making her recall the bloody pasts.

The two boys who lost their fingers, shared the similar life experiences; the ones who’d hurt them were their, fathers, who’d both selected the most hurtful ways to, damage their, children.  Of the hands, the thumb on the right hand was bent out of shape, completely deformed, into a “sixth finger”, bent like a pincher, and gotten laughed about a whole, lot, and he’d always, cried too hard about it, and, his father couldn’t stand his complaints anymore, and took a knife and just, cut the finger, off, while Chuang was a kleptomaniac, and he wouldn’t change nor listen to the words of advice, and his father got angered, and took that knife, cut off that last segment of his left pinky, as a reminder to him, to NEVER to steal again.

And it was told, that after both were sent to the hospitals, they got operated on by the surgeons again, because the bones, the tendons, the blood vessels, the nerves in the severed off fingers needed to get fixed up.  If the surgeons just amputated the fingers off, it may affect the functioning of their, other fingers.  To the point of causing the joints to loosen down, or the tissues to become necrotic.

illustration from UDN.com

The neighbors who grew up with them, for a very long time, lived under both of their, thrilling, childhood, experiences, because the adults all used the threats of “if you don’t behave, I will tell so-and-so’s father to chop your fingers off too”, to threaten their young into behaving, not knowing, how it’d, damaged the young children’s mind, that they’d begun, lying, to evade getting punished, so the children started, locking up all of their, unimportant feelings, to block out the shock, to the point of, being, suppressed.

It’d been four, to five decades, the already distant memories are now, forcing me, to empathize what the man who’d cut his own young son’s fingers off was feeling at the time.

When I was younger, I’d thought that the father of the “boy with six fingers” loved him, while Chuang’s father had, hated him.

And now, as I’d become a father too, I’d, started, reexamining the past, and it seemed, that I can see, underneath the teeth-gritting, the ferocious looking means of his father, there’s that helplessness from how he can’t, make his son act right!  It’s just, that the parents’ “I’m doing this out of love”, their body languages made the children feel rejected, their children felt hurt, and, started wondering, if they were, adopted or, picked up from the outside garbage dumps.

Like a lot of parenting books had, the children who don’t grow up in trust, as adults, they will have difficulties trusting themselves, and others too, and so, there’s no chance of her/him, forming a secure, attachment, which will severely impact the intimacy.  This sort of a childhood environment, is the forefront of the developments of borderline personality, posttraumatic stress disorder, and schizophrenia.

“Sister-in-law, I’d checked out your book!”, the words of my relatives, brought me out of those, memories, I’d nodded flustered, and thanked my relative, swallowed back in my curiosity that rose up to my throat, and, as I left the library, the thoughts still, circled around, those memories of the fingers that were, severed, off.

And so, these are AWFUL cases of how the adults hurt their own young, and, it’s not entirely the adults’ fault, for they’d been, raised using these similar sorts of, violent means, and, the kid who’d gotten his fingers chopped off by punishment, his father was at wit’s end, to turn his son back onto the right path, while the other man who’d chopped the deformity off of his young son’s hand, just wanted to make him normal, either way, these two men didn’t do it right by their own young, even IF the intentions were originally loving, it still don’t make what they both did, right!

That Drawer of, Lost, Memories…

That drawer of, lost, memories, stashed somewhere in time…

With its contents, forgotten, by its, previous, owners!  That drawer of, lost, memories, will it be, opened up again?  Or, will it, stay, shut forever?  Nobody can, tell.

That drawer of, lost, memories, it’d, stayed, inside our minds, with all of the contents, kept neatly tucked in, with all the monsters of our separate childhood, locked, inside the box.

in a darkened place in your, minds…illustration from online

That drawer of, lost, memories, don’t you ever, wonder, wonder ‘bout what’s in it, that you’d, forgotten already?  Don’t you wanna, open it back up, to examine, every piece of evidence of what you’d been, put through?  Why not?

That drawer of, lost, memories, it’d, stayed, inside your mind, in that, unlit corner (b/c you refused to put that spotlight on it, to bring it, to your, attention!), and there it will, forever stay, and it may become, brittle, ‘cuz you’ll, start to, forget, when you’re, old.

And then, that drawer of lost, memories, shall, NEVER be, discovered again, and you wouldn’t even have a single clue WHAT you’d lost, because you weren’t, aware of ever, having had what you’d, already, lost, and it SUCKS to be, Y-O-U!

The Pork’s Feet Noodle for When I was Five Years Old

The memories of the childhood, birthdays, how these earliest memories, can affect us, through the, rest of, our, lives, translated…

After reading the great physician, Weng’s work, “Worms in Man”, I started remembering those interesting, childhood, moments.

Back in the sixties, sanitation was awful in this country, head lice, the roundworms inside our intestines, the pinworms, the hookworms too, there were tons of children with the infected eyes as well, during the elementary years, they would schedule the health exams for us, we’d, swallowed those, tiny white pills, to kill off these pests inside our bodies.

what the food item looked like…photo from online

My older sister came home, and announced that she had lice, my mother used that large black pair of scissors, then, swoosh, she’d, lost her hair, she’d not let me slide either, rubbed my scalp with camphor oil, then, wrapped my head up like the sultan wearing that turban, mom told us, that this was the only way that the female lice and her babies can be, killed, off.  And, as one of our playmates had lice, we all get it.  No wonder, that of all of my classmates, there are only the different sizes of head, that resembled the watermelon shaved, only the students who were from well-to-do families, get to grow their hair, longer.

After my sister gone to the toilets in the vegetable gardens, she’d called me over, she’d used a stick, picked out a white worm, told me, “this is a roundworm, it makes you ill and you won’t grow bigger.”, it’d looked like the earthworm I’d dug up, to feed to the roosters and hens and chickens, it’s just different in color.  She’d continued, “if your butt itches at night, the teacher said it’s a pinworm, then it you have a large tummy, and you’re, thin everywhere else, then, you have the roundworms, do you understand?”, she’d taught me that lesson in parasitic worms in the vegetable garden, and I’d, nodded, like I’d, understood her.

On my fifth birthday, mom cooked a pork’s feet noodle for me, as I was dripping oil out of the corner of my mouth, my older sister became shocked, pointed at the pork’s feet, stated, that looked like the maggot of roundworms!”, that was the tendon of the pork’s feet, white, soft, and, chewy.  I’d started wailing loudly, “I don’t want to eat parasite, I want to grow up and go to, school!”, and because of how my sister said what she shouldn’t have, mom dragged her out, spanked her, and punished her to stand.

what the parasite looked, like…photo from online

and both are, white-ish…

And yet, my young mind had been, damaged, and I couldn’t dare, eat any pork’s feet since.  And, even as I got older, and knew, that that wasn’t what it was, but the long-shaped worm on that stick, was way too, thrilling to me still, and, I still, can’t just, dig in, as a plate of, soft, cooked-to-perfect, pork’s feet was, served at the tables.

Yep, that, is how those childhood moments, define the rest of our, lives for sure!  And, maybe your older sister had the alternative motive of getting you to leave your birthday dish behind, so she could eat it instead, who knows, but, it did the “trick”, didn’t it?  And, not only was this incident enough to make you fear the pork’s feet at that moment in time, it’d, stopped you from being able to, enjoyed the cooked item, which actually, benefits your bones and tendons.

Both Ways

Words out of mouths of, babes…very wise, and, making, a whole lot of, sense too!  Translated…

Since Circle started preschool, she’d become, this opened up wide door to knowledge, and would always shock us in the defining moments of our, lives.

Although my mother stopped working in business, but, at the end-of-year banquet for the employees, she’d made the pork pieces wrapped up in buns to serve.  Because we’re a four-generation family, the same dishes are set up with two kinds of cuts, with the fitting portion sizes for the younger children to savor.  Since we have the pork slices wrapped up in buns, we’d also, started, making TWO different sizes for the kids to enjoy.

the bun, resembling the wide-opened mouth of a tiger, with the piece of pork in the middle, photo from online

Due to the pandemic, these past few years, the end-of-year employee meals were set up by the individual families using webcams, we’d skillfully spread the peanut powder onto the buns, and, padded the buns with my daughter’s favorite canned tuna, the baby pork floss, as our daughter was ready for the seconds, she’d suddenly blurted out, “I get to have it, both ways!”

And my older brother took the footages of her exclaiming these words, and sent it up to LINE for the rest of the families to see.  Yes, surely, absolutely, certainly, at this very moment in time, we all feel, that we were, having it, both, ways.

So, this is how easily a child feels, pleased, the young child is satisfied with so very little, she is, curious, and that’s what made her world so brand new to her experiencing it, and, the words out of those babes’ mouths, can sometimes, surprise all of us, adults too!

Every Child is Happy in the Amusement Parks

On how cruel the parents can be, without themselves, knowing it, abandoning US, their own FLESH-and-BLOOD!  And yet, we still all, grew, UP…translated…

I still loved taking my children to the Children’s Amusement Park.

As my father was younger, he too, might have understood this also.

It was mildly cooler on that day, thinking back, I suppose that it was at the time when autumn is about to, head into, winter.  The reasons for it, unknown, to me then.  One day as I got up, my father and my mother discussed something in a quiet voice, then, he’d told me to come with him.

That was a day of school, as I recalled, so, why didn’t he bring my younger brother too?

I was staying quiet, and focused on staying quiet, uncurious, but, I was, secretly worrying, that my father was, taking me to sell me off to someone.

what the, amusement park ride looked like to this man when he was only a young boy…photo from online

The drive wasn’t a short one, I’d no longer recalled if I’d shared conversations with my father or not, and, even if I had, I’m sure, I’d only spoken, a few, words, back when my father was younger, he’d not known how to talk to his children.

And finally, we got off the freeway ramps, and it was surprising to me as he’d pulled into the parking lot, the colors of the rainbow came into sight, it was, the rambunctious, loud, Children’s Amusement Park.

Don’t know if anybody recalled the “Tien-Yuan Villa of Doliou”.

My father bought us the fares, and, stuffed a hundred or was it two hundred dollars in my hand (back then, that was, a whole lot of money), told me to go into the park to play, to get myself something to eat if I get hungry.

He’d told me, “before the park closes in the afternoon, I will come, and pick you up.”

And at that moment, I’d understood, that my father took me to get babysat at the Children’s Amusement Park on the day.

How grand was that, I tried hard, to hold back my grin, as my father looked, very serious then.

Shortly, my father sped off, and the old woman who was watching the gates close by, didn’t say a single word.

I’d entered into the park, recalled how I had a ton of, fun, gone on every single right, it was cool, the weather, but I’d, sweated a whole lot on the day.

When I suddenly felt hunger, it was past noon, I bought a corndog, had an orange soda, burped a few times, I felt more than, happy and, satisfied.

what childhood is like, for most of us…photo from online

I’d stuffed myself then, time for the Haunted House, I’d not dared entered since I got there in the early morn.

I saw a couple, who were, smiling very radiantly as I was standing in line, looked like they were, checking into a motel or something.

Thinking back, it was, quite, metaphorical, that a couple entered into a haunted mansion together.

They may get married in the future, and, maybe, they will become, someone’s parents, and, bumped into a ton of, scarier things than ghosts, and some of which will probably be too hard for them to handle, but, so long as they still shared the love, they will probably be able to, laugh, about it.

I’m scared of ghosts, and couldn’t even, open my eyes, and just, clung on to that older girl’s shirttail all the way, thankfully, she’d not found me a nuisance, she was like a mother, held me close, gently.

Don’t worry, it’s all, fake, she’d, told me.

Exiting the Haunted Mansion, I’d passed the couple by, don’t know why, I’d started, feeling, something weird.

I’d felt, very, alone, so suddenly.

Lost my sense of play then, just, sat on the benches, by the, trash can, watching the people go to and from, envied how they were laughing, and crying too.

As the evening came, I’d not noted that it had, until the song “Goodnight” by the singer came on, chasing the visitors, out.  As the skies grew dark, everybody was then, exiting, I’d started worrying then, worried over time, and, I’d, waited and waited, and waited, until, there was, absolutely, NOBODY else around, then, I’d, stumped, outside.

The elderly woman who was watching the gates, smiled and saw me off, still, without a single, word.

I’d turned around for one last look, the amusement park was then, taken over by darkness, without the sounds of joys, or the, color, and I’d felt, that the amusement park is also, lonely, that what she wanted, wasn’t to say goodbye to me, but for me, to go in again, to be with her.

Maybe, the Children’s Amusement Park WAS, the loneliest place on earth, so, that’s why, people always go there, together.

I’d waited for my father outside, tired, and cold too, the skies was completely, darkened, to the color of the blood, red, the car drove off one by one, the crowds, left, to the point, that I could, no longer, see my own, self anymore.

As my father’s headlights showed, the skies had, lost color completely then, even the elderly woman who kept the gates had gone home already.

Ahhhhhh!  Closed so soon!  He’d gotten out, and, blurted out this, lie.

I’d, believed him.

At the time, I still had two younger brother, and could understand it, the every parent had a different mode of making their, marriage work, but, they were all like, the Children’s Amusement Park, bitter, lonely, and in pain on the inside.

Until I became all grown up, with children of my own, I’d still prayed, that every child, when they were taken to the Children’s Amusement Parks, they are, happy.

And so, this, is how we all, grew up, being, abandoned by our parents, physically, and/or, psychologically/emotionally, because, our parents are all, ill-fitted, unequipped, to “handle” their own young, US, and that, is how children lose their, innocence, in their, younger years, without them ever, realizing that they had already been, “stolen”…

The Purposes of the Extracurricular Courses, Getting My Child to Explore Her Interest Profiles

How the parents “groomed” their young offspring, to prepare him to ready to take over the business, with a total disregard of the child’s interest profiles, and this is just, AWFUL, for this kid, and the parent is, really B-A-D too, pushing his own young, to ready him to take over the family business!  Translated…

My husband’s best friend, S is a businessman, he’d jam-packed his schedules, lived and worked, with a business suit on him, drove the imported vehicles to the business meetings, the wages he’d brought in, is probably, multiples from the total my husband and I are, making.  S and his wife has a pair of daughters, we’d gone out on family dates with our children outdoors or to travel; the children who are around the same ages, busied themselves in play, while the adults, we’d, shared the ups and downs of work, and of raising our own children.

One day, S went to a mechanic close to our home to get a tune-up, and asked my husband out for coffee, and my husband took our four-year-old out with him, as the fathers are conversing, my son busied himself with the blocks, S started commending my husband for how focused our son was, and how he was able to, stay at a task a long time, then, started ranting on how his own wife signed their son up for many of the toddler classes, as she saw the recommendations of the classes for young children online, she’d rushed to sign him up.  Recently, Mrs. S took their daughter to the classes on “knowing how to manage our emotions”, and “dessert making” courses, and on the weekends, they’d went out, and it’d made him confused, and he’d felt, helpless of the situation.

As my husband mentioned this to me, I’d first felt, that Mrs. S was taxing herself out, and couldn’t understand why she was doing that, and I wasn’t at a place to comment on the matter, but I’d wondered, what, does S, a father believe, to be classes fitting for his own young?  Turns out, that S found the values of a friend who’d owned a family business, who’d made his own son stay by him at the office, to watch how the adult operated the things, to talk about managing the company with him, learn the lessons in managing a business with the adult, from a young age, the child got a first-hand experience in internship, to know what’s going on in the business.

illustration from UDN.com

S believed, that this, was what his own son should be learning, that the rest is, pointless, there’s no need to spend any extra money on the other courses, or to take up the talents of music, or art, or dance, etc., etc.

As my husband finished telling me, I’d felt that chill inside my mind, is what they’re learning useless or not, such a heavy subject!  Thinking about it, I am, a mom who’d, “made” my children take a ton of “useless” classes too then.  Recalling, I’d taken my daughter to dance lessons, piano, performance art, sports, to the concerts, and from time to time, we’d signed up for the pottery courses too; from when she started speaking, and can express herself, we’d started, discovering the activities that she was into, that she didn’t, object in doing.

This summer, I’d signed us up for astronomy camp, it’d started up her interest in the Greek myths of the constellations, and the locations of the constellations, we’d gone to the library, checked out a series of books on the mythologies, and astronomy too, to help her answer the inquiries about the subject of astronomy that I’m no expert in.

On the weekends, my daughter would play the music of Chopin or Vivaldi that she wanted to listen to; as the exams ended at school, she would make a wish to go see the performances of drama groups, or to sign up for a arts-and-crafts course, or maybe, this is how, at her young age, she finds relaxation from.

Looking back at all of these, I’d asked: then, how do I feel about all of these?  Using my favorite writer, Lee’s words, “Arts is the attempts of humans in communication with God, in the vast openness of nature, the darkened streets at night, a home for those souls wandering lost.  It’s a realm of freedom, the planet that’s surrounded by the oceans, are all of us, humans, created, equal.”

I’d never considered, “if it’s useful” to choose for my children, their extracurricular activities.  If in the world of adults, we’d need coffee to help reduce the annoyances of work, and needed a bit of alcohol, when we hit the troughs in our lives; then, for the kids, the music, the stories, the pictures, the pottery, the outdoors activities, we’d exposed them to, in the process of their getting into the activities, they are being, inspired, moved, and led, this is, paving that invisible path in my daughter’s life, to help her tap into the activities to busy herself with when in the future, she feels alone, or bored—or to exercise until she’s completely drained, then return back to her work post, refreshed; or to rush to a concert, a play, and after a good cry, she will know, that she’d understood other own life, a little more than before.

This was the openness she will have in her life, like how Lee told try to communicate with the heavens up above, or with ourselves, to start off a conversation that leads us into the unknowns, no matter who you may be, this process of introspection, of self-discovery, is equal and free.  That, is what I, believe, it’s what as a mother, I want to, instill, into my own daughter’s, life.

Everything we discovered, may be useless, it just makes her, happy.  But, happiness, is quite, useful, in the, grander scheme of, life.

And so, here, we have two sets of parents, one who gets his own young into the programs that he believes will be useful for his own young son’s future (hello, hello, hello???  He’s just a K-I-D!!!), and every step the father planned out for his son, was “grooming” him to take over the company, with a total DISREGARD of how his own young may NOT be interested in his own field of work.

Then, there’s the mother of the friend of this man, who’d exposed her own young to a ton of varied activities, as the kid hadn’t shown any specific interests yet, and this other young girl, has a fuller spectrum of experiences of variety of activities than the son of the hotshot businessman!

Whose child would you want to be?

Pretend Play Should Be Studied in Children From a Younger Age — Neuroscience News

When it comes to pretend play, infants perform interactional patterns with elements of pretense a lot earlier than previously believed. Researchers say pretend play should be considered an interpersonal feature of cognitive development, and not an end product.

Pretend Play Should Be Studied in Children From a Younger Age — Neuroscience News

“The Rabbit Hole ATE My Childhood”…

Alice woke, right at the moment, when that, ax, went down toward her N-E-C-K!

She’d, waken up, covered in, cold sweat, she’d, felt around her neck, then, upwards, toward her own, head (thank GOD it’s still there, my H-E-A-D!!!).  She tried getting up, but still felt, dizzy, of the effects of, her decapitation dream…

She’d, walked around the garden, and, found that Rabbit Hole that she’d, followed the Rabbit down from about, two, three hours before (depending on how long she was down for her “naps”).

Suddenly, she’d felt, the breathes, getting out of her, that was when she’d, realized, that SHIT (children should NEVER use that word!), my CHILDHOOD is, G-O-N-E!

how she, woke! Artwork from online

She’d started screaming: “That Rabbit Hole ATE my childhood!”, what do I do, what do I do???  Being as young as she, she couldn’t, comprehend what just, happened, but she knew, that something was, taken out of her life, like there’s now, that hole in her heart!

“The Rabbit Hole ATE my childhood”, she’d told her parents and her nanny.  “Well, there’s NOTHING we can do, I mean, unless, you can, catch that rabbit that stole your childhood away, and, maybe, if we make HIM into, Rabbit Stew, then, you might, get your childhood back, but it’s, NOT a one-hundred-percent thing!”

“The Rabbit Hole ATE my childhood”, well child, be GLAD, that nothing ELSE went missing from your life, what’s the worth of childhood anyways, we’d left all of that behind us, her parents told her, and it still, was NOT, reassuring…

And so, Alice is now, lost, without her own, childhood, and, she’d tried to find that Rabbit Hole in her parents’, garden, but, couldn’t………………

That was, how Alice, became, an ADULT, in just a forty-five minute to two hour nap that one, afternoon.

The Punishments of Child Abuse Being Too Lenient, the Verdict Pointed Out How There Should BE an Amendment on it

And these adults who’d harmed these young children, INTENTIONALLY deserved a harshest sort of punishment for what they did to their own young!  Off of the Front Page Sections, translated…

The young girl, Huang had been repeated abused by her stepfather, Lin, lived in starvation long-term, at age eight, she’d only weighed at less than thirty pounds, with multiple bruising and scars covering up her body, the district attorney charged her stepfather on attempted murder, and preventing proper growth of a young child.  But the courts found, that Lin’s strangling the young girl’s neck was a mean of torture, that they’re unsure if he’d used the forces enough to kill her, that it’d not constitute as murder, and only sentenced him on the charges of preventing the child from growing up healthily.

The heaviest of this crime is five years, Lin got sentenced to four years two months, already, considered a “heavy sentence”; the judge in the verdict wrote, that the crimes of an adult on a child, if added on, it can get up to seven years six months, which is higher than the more severe cases of “long-term abuse on children”, that it’s unreasonable, that it’s lighter than a “one-time event”.  That this was flawed from the lawmakers end, that there should be an amendment to change the sentences to more severe.

an amendment like this one, we’re in need of!

illustration from online

Lee, the former D.A. of Kaohsiung stated, that the act of torturing a child may be more severe than the actual, physical damages to the young child, that it’s odd, that it was with a lighter sentence, compared to the crimes of an adult toward a young child, he’d also believed, that there should be an amendment to make sure that the punishment is, severe enough, so this sort of a malicious act doesn’t happen repeatedly as often.

And so, this, is how light the punishment is, for ABUSE on a young child, and there’s just NO protection for children’s rights right now, because, the laws are, flawed, and, in order to get the amendments to protect EVERY child from these sorts of abuse and neglect, we will have to have, a pile of DEAD bodies, for an amendment, to get, set into, motion here.

Dreams, Kept Safe, in the, Rabbit Hole

Dreams, kept safe, in the, Rabbit Hole, until, until those, landscapers came, to redo Alice’s parents’, gardens, then, all HELL breaks loose!

The Rabbit Hole was supposed to have been all Alice’s own, her secret hiding place for her dreams, fantasies, her fears too, and yet, one day, her parents decided, to redo the landscape of her garden, and, dug everything up, then, everything was gone, when Alice came home from school that day.

desperately trying to follow her childhood fantasy down the rabbit hole! From online

She’d felt betrayed by her parents, how could they, how could they, just, dig up all her dream in the Rabbit Hole without HER permission?  I mean, yeah, fine, the garden, the home, everything on the land belonged to her parents, sure, but, how could they, prod into, her private little, haven?

Dreams, kept safe in the, Rabbit Hole, she thought, she’d found, a secure and, secret place for all her dreams, her fears, and her hopes, but she’d, miscalculated everything.

That was, the very last time, Alice came back to that garden of her childhood, where she’d fallen asleep, and saw that Rabbit running late…………