Looking back through the years, finding the blessings you had been given, feeling grateful toward all who’d, helped your family, and now, you’re, paying it, forward…translated…
It was, forty-two years ago, back when my husband and I had been dating for three years then, we’d talked of marriage, and so my mother took me to a temple to ask. My mother was illiterate, and I hadn’t had enough of worldly experiences yet, and can’t decipher the meaning of the verses of the slip I’d drawn out.
The man who’d helped decipher the meaning of the slip told my mother, “this marriage will be harder from the beginning, but there will always be someone who helped them out, and in the end, it will, be a good ending for both”, as my mother heard, she’d let go of her worries, and, agreed to marry me out.
After we were wed, the adjustment periods before our children were born, the adapting to one another’s personalities, the establishment of the relationship of me with my mother-in-law, along with our starting up our business, all of it tested me, as a new bride. As Lunar New Year came, although I am a working woman, I’d still had to gone out early to shop for the items, to cook two large tables’ worth of foods, to pass the evaluation of everybody on my husband’s side. I’d once cried in secret too, and felt like Cinderella, and objected to my husband too, “marriage IS, the tombstone of love”. To the point of me getting into confrontation with my mother-in-law, and my husband just, left home, and he almost committed, suicide. But, just like the man at the temple told me, “when you are troubled, there will be those who will help you light the way”, the relatives, the coworkers, had always helped me a whole lot, when I felt stuck, to help me get through the difficult, times.
With the births of my children, we’d put our wages to good use, and, three years later, we’d borrowed the amount for our home from our relatives without any interests, we’d purchased our own home; and, the smiles, the innocent laughter of our young children, it’d, made us feel, more blessed to have each other as family, and we’d, begun, tasting the sweet fruits of our, labor then.
We’d been married for forty-two years to date, and, we are referred to as the “it pair” by our friends, relatives and families. I’m more than grateful for the man who’d managed the temple from my younger years, who’s, given me, that blessing, and grateful to all who’d offer me a guiding light in my marriage, that’s how the two of us, learned to, appreciate each other, and continue to live happily together. More importantly, I’d often, reminded myself, that I can become, someone’s help when others are in need too.
And this is the act of, paying it forward, because you were helped by those around you, who’d offered you the assistance when you needed it the most, and you’d felt gratitude toward the kindness shown to you and your husband, and now, as you’d become, able to, you are paying it forward, lending those in need, a helping, hand too.
How do you, teach a young child about loss, about, death, to help them, grieve for the loss of a, best friend??? On the lessons of life and death, translated…
As We Were Feeling Sad that the Young Life is Lost, How Would My Six-Year-Old Young Grandson, Face with Losing His, Best Friend……………
After my eldest grandson came home from school, he kept stating, “after I tell grandpa a story, I will be, filling up the balloons”. I’d agreed in no time, and waited until he’d finished reading to me, his dad said, it was getting late and they should head home, he’d become, angry, felt that the adults didn’t keep their promises, stressed that he will, fill up the balloons before he heads home.
I couldn’t understand why he was so stubborn about filling the ballons, I’d picked him up and asked, “it’s really late, mom’s waiting for you at home, can’t you fill up the balloons tomorrow?”, suddenly, he got teary eyed, “Yu is gone, I want to give him his, favorite, balloon………”, I’d originally thought he was joking, and I’d, confirmed it with him repeatedly, to see if he was telling me the truth, he’d cried and started, “I’m not lying, grandma…….he really, went to, heaven to be an, angel……….”, suddenly, I’d felt my heart wrenching, while I’d felt bad for the young life that’s, lost, but how will my six-year-old young grandson, cope with his best friend’s, death? All I could do, is quietly, sat with him, to fill up the white, long, balloons, he said, “I didn’t get to write any words of blessing to Yu, I will have the teacher teach me to tomorrow then.”
illustration from UDN.com
As my eldest grandson left for home, my husband and I decided, to NEVER mention this again, hoping, that it’ll help him, slowly forget this, sad memory. These two best friends were deeply connected, back when they were in the two-year-classes together, because Yu with the eye conditions couldn’t quite express himself in whole sentences, the teacher assigned my outgoing, active eldest grandson to be his buddy, they were seated next to each other in class, and slowly, they’d turned into, the best of friends. When my eldest was at home, he’d told us about the progresses that Yu had made, for instance: he’s speaking now, in more complete sentences, he can count from one to ten now, the two built the castles out of blocks, drawn, and other leisure activities together. In the three years of time shared, any project my eldest grandson had made in my home, he’d told, “I shall give this to Yu tomorrow”. Yu was also, very popular in the class, this childish friendship, surely, was, precious, and yet, right after the New Year’s, it all came to, a dead, halt.
We’d originally thought, that not talking about death was the best way to help our eldest grandson, but as I saw on the assignment books, the teacher left a two-page note that moved me—the instructor specially selected an illustrated book about death, “The Dinosaur went to Heaven”, to teach the young children about death, and she’d described how on the day as the students went to the funeral, and placed the gifts for the child who was lost; as they went to see the child off, the instructor can no longer, hold back her tears, my eldest grandson was really gentle, consoled with her, and inquired, “Does cremation hurt?”, the teacher told, “Yu is no longer hurting, because he’d received all of your, blessings, he’d gone to heaven, to be, an angel now.” In the classroom, the class set a special corner to commemorate Yu, with his favorite story, “The Cars Built a House”.
here’s one…image from online
We’re really grateful toward how the instructor had handled this matter so delicately, to educate the young children on the first lessons of death, to help them find an alternative way to grieve that’s different from the adults’ ways. That day, Yu happily chimed to me on his life story, “long, long ago, I was, one of the happy angels in heaven too, I’d loved turning the clouds into cotton candy, and, eaten them slowly, they’re so very, sweet. One day, I saw a really, tall building, and I was, so happy I’d spread my wings, soared to the tenth floor window, as the moonlight lit up the skies, I’d, opened the window gently, had, secretly, hidden myself inside mommy’s tummy, that’s how I became………”
On the day life ended, it’s a new beginning for a brand new, journey, I pray, that Yu, in a beautiful heaven, can soar happy and free, like a bird, to find a home that he loved living in.
And so, this is, a lesson, learned, much too early for this young child, he’d lost his, best friend, and, being too young, he’d not known how to express his sadness, his sorrows, his loss, but the school teacher’s reading the illustrated books about the meanings of death to the class, it’d helped this young boy understand, that his best friend isn’t gone, he just, exists in another form to him, as memories.
another book that teaches children about death…from online
The connectedness, the love that’s shared between the two sisters-in-law, who were originally best of friends, before one married the older brother, is truly, rare, and amazing for sure! Translated…
As I’d gone home that day to visit my ninety-three-year-old mother, before I got to the front door, I’d heard her loud on the phones, and, it was no surprise to me, that she was calling up my younger aunt who’s ten years her junior.
back when they were younger, as best friends…photo from online
And, we’d all heard, the bad interactions between the sisters-in-law a lot, to the point of the relationship worsening to the two stop contact forever. But mom and my aunt’s connection was, so very, deep, they’d interacted like old friends, sisters too, and that made those who knew them awe.
Actually, mom and pops grew up in the same village, they were neighbors too, before marrying, mom was a childhood playmate of my aunts. She’d told me, that when my aunt was younger, she’d loved prettying herself up, and would go to her bedroom to get her makeup; when mom bought new clothes, and, if my aunt fitted in them, she would, always give the new clothes to her too, the accessories too, she’d given them to my aunt. Of course, my aunt returned the favors, she’d looked after the group of us, her nieces and nephews, and helped around the kitchen at our home.
When my aunt was getting married, my parents felt sad, and told her, that if she’d felt taken in her own mother-in-law’s home, that they were her backup forever, it’d moved my aunt to tears.
After she was wed, my aunt worked to help her own household economics, and would, place my three younger boy cousins with my mom, my three younger cousins, grew up with us. And, from time to time when my aunt and uncle had fights, my house was also, a temporary escape from her own home.
My father died at sixty-five of illness, at the time we were still working hard in our separate careers, and it was my aunt who’d become my mother’s, best, companion through her grief.
When my mother had the time, she’d planted the vegetables in the local gardens, and naturally, the crops were of my aunt’s, favorite; the two of them would cook together, shared conversations, and my cousins always happily told, “my mother is elderly now, and she still has her own family of origin to rely on, with the love of our second eldest aunt, she’s, so very, blessed!”
growing old together…like this…photo from online
Mom and aunt’s love and connection, it’s, an alternative sort of a “companion in old age”! It is, a rare gem, how the sisters-in-law are so connected for life.
Because they were raised up together, as neighbors and best friends, there’s that reduction of friction with the sisters-in-law after marriage, and this is something that is, quite, rare too, because, traditionally, the sisters-in-law would compete for the love of the families a lot.
What the generations shared, are not just the common threads of, their, connected fate, their similarities in personalities…translated…
What’s Been Passed Down from Mothers to Daughters, is NOT Just the Personality Traits, or the Damages…………
Who are the three most important women in my life?
Looking back through life, I’d found, that those who’d left me with the deepest injuries, are those whom I called, “families”……..
When my daughter did something wrong in her childhood, I would use the scrolled up paper to smack her hand or her buttock. Based off of my tradition, I thought this was a rational way of “raising my young by the book”. But, several times, as I became furious, hearing my own, screaming voice, how I’d started, trembling from anger, my fists clenched, too, tight, I caught a “glimpse” of my own, mother then. I’d felt, remorse, half of it was guilt: why did I not find a better way, than using the emotional upsets, the physical disciplinary means? The other half was from the shock and the heartaches: how come, I’d, inherited my mother’s, flaws? But I didn’t want that.
My mother’s with a type-A personality, her tongue was sharp like the knife, talked loudly, disgusted with everything, hard to, please. Before I married, my parents went to visit my in-laws to be, my mother arrived early, saw my mother-in-law, skinning an apple. As we arrived back home, she’d started, ranting incessantly, of how my mother, didn’t prepare herself completely for us to come, that she was, too, casual.
After I married, I’d become, just like my mother, found the flaws in my, mother-in-law too. I’d gone back to my parents’ home for my whole day of forty-two-days’ worth of recovery after birth, every meal, my mother cooked, cared for me completely. First day as I was returning to my mother-in-law’s home, I’d found, that she was headed out to the 101 to see the fireworks of the New Year. And, the following day my husband went out for work, there was the ready-made sweet rice porridge inside the fridge, like how my heart was, cold suddenly.
One day, my mother took time from her work, made some red bean soup, and, wrapped it up in thick Styrofoam container, placed it at my mother-in-law’s backdoor, then, rushed back to work again. My mother-in-law was away on her trip. I’d, carried that heated up bowl of sweet soup, thought of how much love my mother showed me, and I started, crying.
I thought that her love was suffocating, and now, I’d, interpreted her love as, overflowing, and when I needed it the most, my mother’s love became, that much more, precious.
illustration from UDN.com
Comparing the ways of my mother-in-law and my mother, my mother’s taking care of everything, her distance from me, her pushy manners, came from how she had to raise us all up alone. Her husband’s abandoning of her, and her own parents’ house’s unsupportiveness, she could only, use her animus to fight. Like a force that’s, driven her to success, she’d done everything best as she could, as way of, revenge. She’d once made fun of herself, that she was strong, made by life, that she had to toughen herself up to survive.
My mother-in-law is, on the polarized end from my own, mother: not asking, not fighting for anything, easy going. And this value in my upbringing, was originally, unacceptable. But, after I’d fought for perfection for twenty full years in work, I’d gotten, completely, strained, and my mother-in-law’s most widely used words, “it’ll be okay”, “anything will do”, was her, attitude toward life: accepting everything as it’d, come. Seemingly, she wasn’t, active, enough, but she could be gentle, in handling all ups and downs of her own, life, like how my father-in-law who’d served in the army, strict, and they were poor, and she had to work as a maid, to help make ends, meet, and her two children, died young too.
The days are smooth flowing, but not without the trials or the, pains, and she’d, chosen to, not get, bothered by the, hardships.
I’d started, going to and from, from these, opposites, in the trials of my life, I’d battled, and fought hard, gotten a ton of bruises and bumps. From working really hard, to, longing, to giving, up. Then, from the loosened grips I’d, tightened my clench, slowly, gotten into the rhythms of the tango of, life.
And now, my seventeen year-old daughter has her own share of life’s lessons handed to her too, the internet age, the studies, the interpersonal interactions, like a game of getting to the next level for me in youth. But she’d become, a mirror to me, reflecting the depth of my life. There’s me in her, and she’s, like herself too. She shone through my weakness, pointed out to me, “You used to hit me, I hated you before, and now you don’t, you’re, making, progress.” Seeing how I took up reading and writing, she’d, commented, “my classmates’ moms, they aren’t like you, loving learning so much.”, I couldn’t stop the hardships of her life from heading her way, I’d, felt scared, allowing her to use her own way to cope with the ups and downs—that sort of, a balance, between her personality, and how she’d, handled the trials of her, life, becoming, who she’s, destined to, be.
My mother in her eighties, still kneaded down the dough for the traditional Chinese buns, the salted bacons, and helped the locals collect the recyclable materials too. My mother-in-law who’s the same age as my mother, would often, stroll in the plum garden of Chingwha University, taking in the fresh scent of the flowers. I, sit in front of my keyboard, with a hazelnut latte, recorded the songs of my own, life.
The mothers passed the values to the daughters, not only are we similar in injuries, in personality traits. Through the turns of our lives, there’s the light in from the cracks, allowing the brokenness of life, to find something that’s brand new—growth.
So, this is the stories of three generations of women, how they all walked down different paths of their lives, but, they all made their own lives, count.
The friendships that we once, cherished so much, break, so easily, and you can’t get that back, no matter how much you wish you could, return to before…translated…
When Everything Falls Dark Before Me, I’d Lost My, Friend, and This Had Been Caused by Me. Later I’d Come to Understand, it’s My Bipolar that’s Caused My Mind to Dis-Order, That Was Why I’d Spoken Those Words, to, Destroy Our Many Years of, Relationships, But, I Can’t, Get Any of that, Back Anymore……….
Having Been Bullied, I’d Lacked that Sense of, Belonging
Growing up, I was this, happy-go-lucky kid, but as I entered into the middle school, there were, the cliques that started, forming amongst us girls, that’d made me, uncomfortable, then I was, bullied. Ever since, interpersonal relations became one of my weaknesses, until I’d entered into the university years.
Or maybe, it was because how everybody matured in the university days, although there were still those, cliques in class, but, mostly they were all based off of geography, or interests, etc., etc., etc.,………..whatever reasons there may have been, that drew the people toward, one another, and, the groups didn’t reject one another, and, when there’s something happening in our major, we’d all, worked as a whole, unit, and that was when I’d, finally had my, long awaited on, group of, girlfriends. Being genuine is very important to me, in my early days in education, I’d joined in with some cliques, but, when one of the members wasn’t present, the rest would gossip on the absent person, but, weren’t we all, friends? Then, what had other people said of me, when I wasn’t, around? So I’d started, fearing, interacting with people, and, dropped out, of all those, cliques.
illustration from UDN.com
In the university years, the group of us sisters, we always shared everything that was good, helped one another out when things get awful. The six of us called one another based off of the second character of our names, for instance, my name’s second character was “Yi”, they’d call me, “Mrs. Yi”, another member’s second character was, “Song”, and we’d noted her as, “Mrs. Song”. While this, “Mrs. Song”, was a highly noted person of our, major, she’s tall, with tons of ideas, agile and intelligent, eyes, long flowing hair, intelligent, gentle, she was, a rooster in the house full of hens. And although she’s already with someone, all of our male classmates and older schoolmates still tried, she had a ton of, suitors. There would be guys who’d asked to take her to classes, because we went to Wenhwa University, we can only take the buses to get us up and down the mountains, but, if someone wants to give Mrs. Song a lift, then, we would all, stuff ourselves, crammed into the backseat, the four of us.
Other than Mrs. Song, the rest of the other sisters had individual, suitors too, after school there would be guys who wanted to walk with us to the bus stops, and during the time, if the males wanted to buy a drink or a snack, then, he would have to purchase six sets of things for all of us. My girlfriends are all popular, and I’d, mixed into the bunch, to get my fair share of free offerings, and, what made me cherished this friendship was how we all, cared about one another, we never gossip about any member of the group, when she’s not around, and, so many times I’d lost love, it was them, who’d, allowed me to cry into their shirts.
If I had an eight o’clock lecture to go to, I’d had to wait early for Route 260 at Taipei Main Station, the line was super long, and finally, I got on, and, there was, these elderly women in the groups, going to the hot springs. And, as one of them got on, she would save the seats with her stuff for the others to come. This became, too trying for us, students, although we were young, and can stand all the way, but, it took, at least an hour for the ride to school. And I’d, often mumbled, “Old lady, can’t you guys come out half an hour later, why must you all catch the buses at my first period?” But looking at them, I’d thought, if the group of us, girlfriends are like that when we’re, older too, hanging out, hiking out, going to the soaks, as one another’s, companions, wouldn’t that be, amazing!
We’d shared many moments of bliss. In the summer and winter breaks, the guys who wanted to date us would rent a van, to take us to the middle and southern parts of the country to visit, at night, we lay on the patches of Kenting, looking up at the stars. One year, we spent New Year’s Eve at Taipei City government office, someone drove us to Yilan, where we could see the Guishan Island, we talked all the way, waiting for the sunrise. As we began working, when we have the troubles with our work, we’d gone to one another to talk it out, Mrs. Song had, helped me through many of my, lowest, moments—later, I’d understood, that because my father felt he couldn’t help me and felt bad seeing me through my hardest, he’d called her up privately, and asked her to care for me especially. But, my friendship with her, was ended, by, me.
I’d Missed the Times of the Past I Can’t Get Back Again
About six years ago, I’d gotten stuck at work, felt awful, and, I couldn’t hold back my temper, and got into a shouting match with my manager! And, what’s worse, was that my in-laws started, meddling into how I was raising my children, and we’d gotten into the fierce, fights. All of these incidents, caused me, who originally had depression, to worsen, and the things I didn’t feel compelled to share with my own parents, not wanting to make them worry, I’d shared them, with my group of, girlfriends, Mrs. Song and the, others. Unfortunately, the heavens won’t give me a break, six months later, my father was diagnosed with liver cancer, and soon as they’d found it was already, toward the, final stages. The whole family sought out the famed oncologists, at this time, my younger sister with the medical backgrounds would always take notes in the sessions with the oncologists, and tried to understand the suggested treatments recommended to my, father, while I can only, listen from the side, worried, not knowing what I can do to help. And I started, having, depression, and, Mrs. Song was always there, working her best, to give me the emotional, social support I was desperately in need, of, gave me a ton of advice, told me to stay strong, that this is the time when my father needed me, the most. And yet, her words can’t register with me, and I couldn’t, manage, I’d started using alcohol to numb myself out, and her words of console, became a source of our, argument. I was already, melted down, I didn’t want to hear those rational, bullshit from her! Can’t she just, stay beside me, while I, cried, allow me to throw my, temper, tantrums!”
I’d become, overly sensitive during that period of time, one day, my father LINED me, “my good daughter, I’d heard that you’d started, drinking and smoking a lot of late, are you, trying to, keep me worried, that I can’t, focus on my treatments?” within a split second, I’d realized, that this was told to my father by, Mrs., Song! I’d lost it completely, called her up, and cussed her out, then, blocked her out of all of my apps, swore to her I was, never going to, talk to her again ever! And, I’d, cussed at her openly on FB too, I was, so furious of how she’d told my situation to my father, who was, already, ill, to make him worry over me. Later, I’d understood, that it was my father who’d, inquired her about what’s wrong with me, as he’d noted that something wasn’t, quite right with me, but even so, I still couldn’t accept the truth from her. Within a week, I was, forcibly hospitalized, reason was I had the manic episodes, I’d hit and shoved my, husband. I was originally only diagnosed with depression, and then, it was, bipolar, I was, locked into the Wanfang Hospital’s psych ward, and couldn’t be allowed, out, that year on Father’s Day, it was my father, who’d been, gravely, ill who’d, come to the hospital to, visit, me………
I thought that nobody understood me, not only did I break up with Mrs. Song, I’d, exited out of the group. At my most lonely and helpless moments, when there’s nothing but, darkness that fell before me, I’d lost all of my, friends, and I was the one, who’d, caused, it. Later I’d, come to understand, that it was my bipolar that’s caused me to lose my mind, that was why I’d spoken those awful things, destroying our, long time relationship, but I can’t get any of that back anymore. These years, I’d gotten, used to it too. The first year after my father died, I’d slowly, finished grieving, and would often dream about how the group of us would, hang out, or go out to travel, but, even if it was me dreaming, I’d known clearly, that these were, dreams, that, the six of us will, never be as close as we’d, once, been………..
Later I’d started reading up the psychology volumes, the books by Adler, they’d, encouraged the readers, “things aren’t as bad as you think they can be, you have the decision to take that very first out…”, so I’d, worked up my courage, sent a Friendship invite to Mrs. Song, and through my other girlfriends, I’d asked about her too. three days later, she’d asked a friend to tell me, that she’d been checking up on my messages, and noted that I was, okay, she’s okay too now, and, let’s just keep a safe distance from each other like we have right now.
To my sisters, I was, only a friend of theirs in the college years, and, there are the friends we make in the varied stages of our, lives. But for me, these girlfriends, they were, my only group of true friends, without them, I’d not had, any more, friends.
Due to my health, I can’t, return back to, work again, I’d often, traveled alone. From someone else’s views, I may look free, but, everywhere I’d gone, seeing those, group of silver haired friends, I’d, thought back to the wish I made back then, that past that I will, never, get, back, again…………
So, this is how you lost, your, best friends, not because you guys grew up, but because, of some awful things you’d said to your best friend from college, and it’s, really sad to see, how this close a connection can break, after the accumulated instances of upset you two had felt, but, that’s life, we will, lose those who are, important to us in life, because, nobody is with us forever, and in the end, we all, end up, alone………..
A poem, on showing kindness to the outside, world around us, translated…
In a Room Not Bright Enough
The Fluorescent Light Feared the Light Too
Finding a Man of Legend
Who’ll Take You to Count the Seas
He Saw Your Shadow Before
Hiding Behind, Him
all it takes is…some attention on our, parts, to note that there may be a need, and just simply, offer that helping hand…video from YouTube
You Two Shared the Exact Same Sun
He’s Very Light, Light to Very Close
You Two Shared the Same Shoes
The Old Days Became a Guide Dog
If You Can Find a Stranger in Advance
Hand Him that Tiny Flower
Watching that Small Face
Looking Surprised & with the Smiles, Blooming Open
How you can make the day of someone you encounter, by these, tiny acts of, gentle, kindness, and yet, we all, often, neglected to know and to note, that a simple smile toward someone we don’t know, can actually, brighten up her/his day by a hell of a lot, so, we don’t, do that…
Everything is, related to affinity, even purchasing our, homes too, and the timing, and everything else must be together combined into one, for the deal to get, made! Translated…
“The property I’d wanted to live in was rented out this morning”, there’s that look of loss on my friend’s, face, and even as I’d, tried to console with her, that it was a matter of, “affinity”, it probably won’t register with her, the facts are what they are, let’s just, keep, searching then.
No matter if it’s renting or purchasing, we all go through the process of seeing the properties. That was, a given, does anybody NOT go and check out a property they want to, live in first?
like this…out of many, one, that connected with us…illustration from online
“I’m sorry, I will have to cancel the showing I’d scheduled with you on Saturday”, the realtor called, and, my college classmate who’ wanted to buy the property, can’t help but show her looks of disappointment, was it not agreed upon, that the place would get shown to three parties, and we’d all, drawn the numbers already, are you, playing me for a, fool? Don’t know if it was because of how the realtor put it, she’d wanted to press the details out of the person, and the realtor told, “because that property is close to the MRT, and it is only six years old, without the parking space, so that’s why the cost was so low, the buyer told that he didn’t need to see it, and started, negotiating the prices, then, we’d made a deal.”
“Just like that?”, as I’d heard her retelling it to me, I was in disbelief, right on the opposite of the Taipei City MRT Station, a suite with a tiny space, a place that’s “evenly priced”, broken the ten million dollars N.T. mark too, too weird that the person purchased the place without seeing it first. And, I imagine, that it’d felt like the springtime temperatures, my friend weathered through the four season in one, week.
And so, we can only, turn back to the house hunting website to find another new property for her. Too many places, skimming through the real estate websites is exactly like the dating sites, or the job hunting sites, being able to set the criteria for what we’re searching for, then, finding exactly what we need, that’s a skill that the online age residents are needing, and, those that are way too low, or way too high from our desired goals, just, don’t see it. By the opposite, if it came our turns to sell our homes one day, or to sell our own skills, knowing what labels to use, writing the eye-catching introductions that’s the key.
Although, for those who are excellent in purchasing the properties, they do NOT need to see the properties, we’re just, ordinary, and, even as there were the matches, we still needed to, physically go and see the properties ourselves personally. The spaces would be like the sum of time and the world, if what we’re looking for in comfortable space, then, we definitely need to have some connections to the place. For me, looking at properties is looking at the past, and the futures too, and, if we’d connected, isn’t it, up to, affinity to, decide too?
a place to call our own…photo from online
Once I’d gone house hunting to Donghu, as the realtor showed the place to me, although the homeowner had left the house, there were still the Chinese medicines cooking on the stoves, filling the entire property up with the strong scent. I saw from the dropdown window of the place, saw the shrine of someone’s ancestor of a top-floor add-on, sitting on the living room couch, the words on the shrine, was, more than, clear to see, the scent and the visual inputs I had at that location, was totally, magical. I’d asked, the reasons why the owner wanted to sell it, could it be, that the owner didn’t feel at-ease or ill here? The realtor smiled, and not gave me an, answer, seems like a, never-ending, story.
And so, this is on how there’s that need for a connection to a place that we’re, purchasing, and this goes to show, that everything is predestined, you are purchasing your place, because it’s meant to be yours, and, sometimes, the least expected place was the one, we found that place called, home, things are, weird like that.
On loss, grieving, losing a loved ones, and how we can only, put one foot in front of the other, and keep moving, until one day, the losses and the sorrows, the grief from what we’d lost, is no longer, that strong anymore, and we can, finally, get through the days, slowly…translated…
Although, It’d Been Said, that We Can’t Compare Mourning, but I’m Still in AWE at the Female Owner’s Persistence, while What Touched Me Deeply, was Her Saying that “Life Goes on, if We Live Our Lives Well, then, the Ones We’d Lost Who are Now in Heaven, Will Feel More at Ease, They Won’t Need to Worry Over Us…”……
It was the year, I’d, lost my old dog and my elderly mom, I’d suddenly, lost the focal point in my life. Nighttime was the time of day I’d, feared, the, most, as the memories of both my elderly mother and my old dog are in the house, to reduce the time that this creeps up on me, I’d, selected to head out to the local middle school tracks to walk.
In the cold of night, I’d, circled around the track, lap after lap after, lap, nobody will note, that I’m, crying as I’m, walking, along. When it rained, I couldn’t tell if what’s dripping down from my face was the rain or my own, tears, and I’d, become, a zombie like this for, two whole weeks, just, walking around.
That day, I’d just, left the middle school, passing a roadside stand that sold the red bean pastries. “Hello, would you like to purchase a pastry? The fillings are oozing out!”, the mildly hoarse voice was, a bit, familiar to me, I’d focused in, it was, the stand owner with whom I’d usually purchased the foods from, don’t know when she’d moved her business here.
illustration from UDN.com
“I hadn’t seen you in quite a long time, from before, you were always out with your mother and your dog, and, every time your dog got to my stand, it’d, refused to, go farther, and had you purchased three pastries, then, it would, move itself, along………”
I’d smiled and nodded, and, tears came, flowing out.
“oh…I know it, and I’m, so sorry! That’s how life goes, my son………he’d only gotten into a public university just last year, as he’d begun his university career, and only within six months of his entering into university, he’d died in a car crash……and it was, too difficult, for a single mother as I, to accept this. My son died, can you imagine my loneliness? As I’d heard the geckos making their noises on the walls of my home, I’d felt, that I wasn’t, alone anymore, I had a gecko as my, company, although, I’d never actually, seen the gecko. But, the days will go on, if we’re well here, living on earth, then, the loved ones we lost in heaven, they will, feel, at ease too, and they will, be better off.”
illustration from UDN.com
The woman skillfully, flipped the pastry on the iron baking plate, slowly told, like she was, telling me, a tale of old.
Like I usually had, I’d, bought three pieces. On my way back home, I’d, thought, that no matter what form of losing our parents it happened, it’s, an enormous feel of pain. My two parents both died in their elderly age, which fitted to the laws of, nature, and, although I’m in grief, I’d felt, assured. The woman from the food stand, lost her son, this would be, excruciating to her, and there’s that forced necessity to accept the loss as a fact, with the feelings of unwillingness, of how it could’ve happened, and maybe, hate too.
Although, we can’t, compare the losses we’d endured individually, but I’m still, in awe at the stand owner’s stamina, while, what touched my heart were the words of, “life will go on, if we’re well, then, the ones we’d lost who are now in heaven, will feel at ease, and they would be, well too.”
In the coldness of the night, I took a bite out of the hot red bean pastry, certainly, the fillings, oozed out! Suddenly, I’d recalled how my mom told me to volunteer at the hospital, I’d decided right then and there, that I shall, make the inquiries in the morn. Lifting my head to the sky full of stars, it will be, sunny tomorrow for sure.
And so, there’s, no specific time it takes, for a person to grief for the losses of the loved ones, and, the writer lost her mother, and the woman who owned the food stand lost her, son, the people they lost may be different, but, the feelings of losing someone we love, and the heart wrenching pains, the heartaches that comes with the losses, are always, unbearable, but we will, move on, eventually, we just, need to, allow ourselves enough time, to grieve fully and properly over the ones we’d, lost.
Elderly musicians, loving what they do, simply, getting on that stage, and perform the music for the love of it, translated…
At the time, I’d, lived in the U.S., there was a favorite café of mine, it’s got that country, rustic feel to it in the interior, on every Friday, Saturday evenings, there would be, the live, performances, with the tip jars up front, for the customers to place the tips in.
The violin and electric keyboard played the music, the guitarist, also, sung very high, without holding a thing, back, the duets, and the four-person band worked well together, sometimes, they’d performed the softer love songs, the ballads, sometimes, the beats to the songs are, strong. With the music the atmosphere came to life, the audiences were enjoying the music very much, the band members also, would, interact with the members of the audience from time to time, we were, having, a blast.
like these folks…photo from online
Close to the end of the show, the lead still kept his, enthusiasm, getting closer to the audience, and, looked very proud, as he’d, begun, showing off, yet another musical instrument he could play, he’d, switched the guitar in his hand out, and pick up his, trumpet, then, puffed up his cheeks, and started, playing the songs, then, he’d, picked up the drums, and beat out the rhythmic, beats, although this was not the main instrument, but it’d still, gotten the crowds, going. She saw everybody smiling and getting into the music, she’d, started singing and dancing, with every one of us in the audience, applauding her hard.
And, the performer was not a trained singer, but four silvery haired elderly women, due to their shared love of music, they’d, formed a band, and, the attractive thing about them is that thy played impromptu, whatever came to their minds, and, they’re all, very actively enjoying in their, performances, with that, unique attractiveness to the show. Thinking on it now, I’d still, miss it very much, don’t know if there’s a stage here, to allow the elderly performers, to shine in the, spotlights.
Yeah, that’s not likely, because, in this country, the performers are mostly, younger, and, that’s just how the culture works, I means, surely, those, oldies are loved, and, there were the performances that came every single year, for those, old folk music, but, mostly, it’s the younger singers that take the stages here. But, this group of elderly women inside that café, found a stage for themselves, to perform on, sharing their love of their music, and passing around the joys they had in performance, infecting their audience.
Exercise, making friends, to help reduce whatever she was feeling, and it’d, worked for her too! The many benefits of joining in a marathon group, off of the Front Page Sections, translated…
The marathons in Taiwan, are an ageless workout, in recent years, there’d been more than 500 marathons in Taiwan annually, with a lot of people who signed on for these, competitive, events. Based off of the statistical measures, there’s half of whom signed up for the Taipei Marathon who were selected, and, in a week after the Eva Air Marathon opened up for registration, it’d become, fully booked, and the personal group of running all the way up the 101, in twenty minutes after opening for registry, it was, fully, booked.
And, running became the way that many people use to help fight off anxiety, and improve ones’ own, moods.
Amy who is seventy-one-year-old joined in the running crew last year, she’s the eldest of them all. Amy originally worked as accounts receivable for a school, after she retired, she’d begun part-timing at as financial advisor, works four days a week, last year, her twin grandchildren were born, and after she got off work, she’d helped with babysitting too, the tight schedule caused her body to malfunction: coughing, stomach aches, she’d found the time, to run as a way of alleviating her stresses from day to day. After several months of running, the problems that she couldn’t find the causes for, all got, better.
still physically active, in their, years…photo from online, and, running the marathons are, energy, boosts! Photo from online
The running group that Amy belonged to started seven years ago, on Monday, the C.E.O. of the Super Marathon Association, Kuo who’d come in for the lectures, every Thursday, the group members set up the running teams to run, all the members of the group are elderly.
Kuo told, that running other than benefiting the health, it is also good for relieving the depressive moods, a lot of people, after they’d started running, they’d improved on their anxieties, and stresses, and, joining in the running groups, you can make new friends as well too, finding that sense of belonging, create the new interpersonal, connections.
In the past, it’s believed, that running can hurt the knees, and Kuo pointed to the recent studies that proved, that running is a great way to train the knees, the BEST exercise to prevent the deterioration of the joints in the knees.
doing her regular training on the track fields…photo fro online
The good thing about jogging is that the workout is fitting for all ages, and it’s easy for the aging population to begin to jog too. Kuo pointed out, unless you’re a competitor, there were, rarely any joggers who’d sustained injuries due to improper postures in running, and, most of the injuries happen, due to not having enough energies in the bodies, or not enough, muscle strengths. The running group that was described that he’d led for seven years, were with the focus of increasing stamina and improving the muscle strengths, which are the foundations to enjoy jogging. But he’d also stressed, that you don’t need to wait until you gain enough muscle strengths to begin jogging, you can start off running slowly, and do the muscle toning training at the same time.
He’d suggested two things to do for those who wanted to start running in the elderly groups, join a running group first, that way you and your group can keep each other on track, to make more friends; then, to sign up for a shorter-distance, but long time marathon, and, after you finish this first marathon, you will, find more confidence, to keep on, running.
And so, this, is a great activity, you get to, make new friends, who share your same interests in running, jogging, and you also get your needed regular exercise in, and, you only need a pair of running sneakers to begin, and, you won’t have to worry about injuring your knees either, because, unless you’re a professional marathoner that runs, 10, 20, 30K per race, you got no worries, and you get to keep your body and mind healthy as ever too. and that would be, killing how many BIRDS with only, just, ONE stone? Exactly, there are, tons of benefits in running and jogging, so, start that regular exercise activity and keep going at it, to keep yourself healthy.
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