On death and dying, based off of the Buddhist belief systems, translated…
After the Passing of My Father, in 2009, I’d, Become a Monk with the Fagu Mountain Foundations, Taking Care of My Father in His Aging, Demented Years, was that Gem that Remained in My Memories, But, it’d Made the Me Ten Years Later, Start This, Conversations that’s, Transcendental of, Time…………………
The Travel Bag I’d Packed for Dad
Tired from reading my books, so I’d, shifted my gaze to the photo of my father in that Christmas hat, his round face had a feeding tube into his nose, and that look of a child made my heart ached, smiled at me lightly, and I’d, replied back to him with a similar smile.
Before dad I always acted crazy, wanted him to laugh with me, to play, to finish EVERY single item to care for him. I have NO clue how he would interpret his crazy daughter, but as I see my cherished old baby, I can’t help, but smile on, wanted to hug him, to kiss him every single day. Looking at his face, asleep soundly like an infant, I can’t bear to leave his side, worried that if he didn’t see me when he woke, he’ll, cry again. And, even though it was hard for me to let go, I must, if that day will come, I can only hope, that my depending-on-me-too-much dear old pops can, follow the steps of Buddha closely, to not get lost. I kept on worrying, just continued, worrying…………………
illustration from UDN.com
In a corner of my home, there was a small travel pack, that was prepared by me for my dad, the whole family knows it too. There’s the quilt we will pull over his body, the Buddhist verses chanting machines, the phone number of the funeral home, a pair of his dress shoes that he’d worn regularly, for the sake of when that day comes, he can, leave it all behind, with nothing, holding him back. Every time we were told he needed to get placed in the I.C.U., I’d always, take this small pack with me, or, as the phone rang during the middle of the nights, my eyes would, automatically, shift to where the travel pack was.
I was born too late, knew things a bit too late, and, all I could do for my father, is just, this.
I’d often thought, that if that day comes, for my father’s sake, I can’t cry, I can’t, have him leave this world with his worries of me, and he couldn’t hear that music that’s, guiding him toward nirvana, that I needed to, see him off, in smiles. I have to, make myself stronger, learn to, hold back my own, tears—and yet, as I’d thought of all of this, tears, they came, out.
Where Can I Go, to Find Him
I wasn’t willing, if one day, I’m, never to see my father again, what shall I do? There’s no place, where, can I go, to find him? I think, I shall, cry at the end, I’m, a crybaby, just like dear old dad. Even though, everybody says that illness is trying, the end is the release from the bodily tortures, but, it’s also, the start of a, hard and trying time of missing the ones we lost too much.
Time came and went like the flash floods, we became, so tiny, like those, sediment. Turning around, everything is, no longer, as it once, had been, how many lifetime’s worth of affinity must there be, for us, to meet up in this, current life? If we want to meet up, then, we will keep on, walking on those, eggshells, without a second thought, along with the mercies of all the gods, then, we will be given the chance, to be together, in one, lifetime.
Life is a journey, we are on that same train together, some get on early, get off early, everybody has a different time; husband and wife, father and daughter, siblings, no matter how deeply we’re all connected, no matter how much we love one another, everything will be gone, like a flash of, lightning, but everything we’d gone through, will settle in, inside that field of our own cognition, like those, Buddhist beads. We should, cherish what time we have on the ride, to use the time we’re given, to give to others, to cherish those around us, then, we wouldn’t, let what we’d been given, the kindness, the mercies that we received in life, waste, away.
In the endless karmic cycles, how many times we parted already? The Buddhist verses told us, that the tears we’d shed in the karmic cycle from hate, love, overflowed the four seas, the bones we’d accumulated, already, surpassed the tallest of peaks. I will, use the body my parents had endowed me, to follow the Buddhist path, to give to the world in all my lifetimes, to give back to, all on earth.
Yeah, this, is this woman’s will, she’d, lost her father, and, it’d made her realized, that life is, filled with, the uncertainties, and that drove her to want to give back to the people in the world, not just those whom she cared for, she has a grander kind of love, which grew out of the love for her own, families.