Category Archives: Perspectives

Being Different…

I’m like you all, my classmates, but, not exactly, I have a mom, who’s from a foreign world as opposed to the one I’m currently “staying in”…

When I first entered into class, I spoke the mainstream languages with a perfect tone, absolutely NO weird accents, but, the other kids, they’d still, made fun of me.

not my drawing.

I tried to fit in, tried to engage myself into their discussions, but, every time they saw me approaching, they’d all just, scattered and dissipate, as if, they’re avoiding me, like I’m the plague or something!  And, it’d, hurt.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being different, but, the feedbacks from my external environment seemed to prove otherwise.  I keep on, getting the signals, that I should be thankful, being different from everybody else, and yet, in my day-to-day interactions, that “theory”, it just, can’t seem to work out that well at all!

not my picture.

And now, after being casted away, singled out by my cohort, I’m starting to feel ashamed of my difference, and eventually, I’d become, so scared of being different, that I’d do anything, to blend in with the rest of the crowd………

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Filed under Awareness, Being Alone, Being Exposed, Bullying, Discriminations, Life, Perspectives, Violence in Schools

Watching You Leave, the Thoughts of a Mother

Translated…

On Sunday evening, my daughter with her huge backpack, is headed to her grandparents’ house, I’d sent her off by the door, and, nagged on how she’d not put her shoes on right, she’d mumbled back, “I’ll put it on properly in the elevator!”, I’d insisted that she was to, put her shoes on properly before she leaves, she’d, bent down, redid her laces with that unwillingness, and, I’d had, a few extra seconds, to stare at her.

Since a decade ago, my spouse’s name was stricken off my national identification card, I’d lost the days of accompanying her by the day, and only on the weekends, did we get time together to share. Every Friday evening, I’d, rushed off work, road across the city, to a kindergarten, to pick her up and, my daughter curled underneath the lamplight of the kindergarten, with her accompanying bunny, and, her eyes and smiles, turned into the stars in the skies the moment she saw me. Several years passed by, it’s now, that young woman who’d taken the MRT, the bus, to my place.

As the elevator headed downstairs slowly, I’d calculated the timing just right, went to the lanai to look, the red-topped bus slowly came close, and stopped, right underneath the bus stop; my daughter was sitting in it, her huge white backpack on her legs, with her eyes, staring up ahead, lips slightly curled upward. The autumn sun was eye catching, and, being able to travel on her own makes her excited.

Very long ago, I too, watched the bus as it sped off into the distance, imagined my own sunny and bright futures too, filled with a ton of dreams, embracing the impossibilities of life. back then, I’d never imagined, that in an unknown corner, there it was, my mother, with her tears, staring at the direction I left in.

And now, I’d become, an adolescent’s mother too, and, the once-a-week that we’d met, was what was left for me to take with in this richness of her youthfulness, but, became an aging life’s extravagance. The social media, the pop music, the trending novels, there is, no boundaries, in the world of a teenage girl, and all I could do, was smile by her side and accompany her, but I’d still, cherished the time we spent together.

not my photo…

I know, that one day, she will eventually own her own universe, write her own stories, and that I can’t, keep her all to myself. That mother was only a caretaker when she was younger, but not the one who’d owned her for this life, when she has the ability, to spread her wings and fly, or resting, on that tree on her own, she wouldn’t allow me to groom her, to smooth her feathers anymore, just as back then I’d left my own home too, although I’d bumped and fell, I’d never turned back toward my mother, and ask her to give me a hand.

And still, not butting into her life doesn’t mean that she’s not occupying my mind. After I’d lived alone for a bit, I read the words my mother wrote, “You will always be my child.”, no matter how bad life got, how awful living is, the mother will always recognize her own young; no matter how far you fly, the mother’s gazes will always be like that string connecting to the kite, glued, to the child’s body, hung there, not pulling the child down, close knit, but never broken off.

Right now, the bus my daughter rode is probably at the MRT station now. She’d, scanned her pass, and standing inside the trains, her feet, tapping to the music, reading through her book, an hour later, she will, arrive at her destination, happy, and safe and sound.

The thoughts of a mother, she’d watched her child come and go, from her place back to her husband’s home, and, she knew, that she needed to, let her daughter go, and the child is growing into a beautiful woman, and, she felt sad, because of how her daughter will eventually, spread her wings and fly, but that’s a part of what parents must face, because children WILL grow up, whether or NOT we want them to!!!

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Filed under Letting Go, Life, Parenting/Parenthood, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, Values

I’m Not a Porcelain Doll, the Reflections in the Doll Corner

This morning, the Porcelain climbed off that high shelf that her owner kept her on display, toward the floor, and, she stood there, in front of the mirror (b/c it’s a girl’s room, and ALL girls want to get dolled up, don’t they???), and, she’d looked at her self in the mirror, left, and right, like how a scientist is examining something s/he’d just, discovered…

I’m not a porcelain doll, Porcelain mumbled to herself, although I looked delicate, fragile, easily shattered, but, I have, a heart of a Raggedly Ann, you can SHAKE, toss me, and let me DROP to the floor, I still won’t BREAK!

not my photo…

I’m not a porcelain doll, the Porcelain decided, that she will NOT be fragile like she’d always been, she’d wanted her owner (a little girl???), to pick her up, and play with her without worrying about shattering her, and so, Porcelain started changing, metamorphosing, and, the little girl who’d owned her, hadn’t seen her, she’d, forgotten about the existence of this particular Porcelain she loved so much.

not my photo…

I’m not a porcelain doll, I won’t break if you shake me too hard, and, even if you tossed me high up in the air, and I come down, landing on my head, I still won’t CRACK wide open!

But, although Porcelain had, made up HER mind on not to break anymore, she still can’t change her physical self, and, surely enough, she’d, shattered, for the last and final time, and, we are all gathered here today, to MOURN the loss, of our dear friend, Porcelain, she was, a very good doll, she just can’t get satisfied, being WHAT and WHO she is, that, is why, she had “died”………

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Filed under Attitude, Expectations, Fate, Lessons, Life, Observations, Perspectives, Properties of Life, Reality Clashes with Dreams, Story-Telling, The Doll Corner

The New Home for the Elderly

Observations made from life, translated…

Awhile ago, after I’d gone for my workout at the park, I’d taken a rest on the benches, the heated summer days, with that gentle breeze, an elderly couple was sitting there, in the resting place, I’d heard the elderly woman tell the elderly man, “Let’s go to the new place to check it out later.”, I think to myself, they must have a huge sum in retirement funds.

Sitting close to them, we’d started in conversations, as we talked, the “new home” that the elderly were talking about, were the dual burial place that they’re going to be sharing after they die.  They don’t have any children, just had each other, and, had made their future plans a very long time ago.  They said, that they’d go to their “new home” to clean it up every single week.

“If you don’t have worries far off, then, you have worries nearby.”  Being able to set up one’s own funeral arrangements beforehand, and so in love, that after death, wanting to be buried together, it’s really rare to see, it’s truly, moving.

And so, you can see how close these two elderly are to one another, to want to be buried together after death, and, it’s a good thought too, because they wanted to keep each other company, even after death, and, this, is a hard-to-come-by, once-in-a-lifetime, very deep, kind of love that these two elderly share.

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Filed under Expectations, Life, On Death & Dying, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life

The Dangerous Thing About Trust…

It’s either make, or BREAK, and, when you BREAK, you REALLY, REALLY, R-E-A-L-L-Y DO B-R-E-A-K!

The dangerous thing about trust, is that if you’d placed your trust into the wrong people, then, you’d be, totally SCREWED, and, there’s ALSO that GOD DAMN problem of T-R-A-N-S-F-E-R-E-N-C-E (hello, hello, hello, Uncle Siggy, anyone???).

Trust is a dangerous thing, especially in this world, filled with a TON of SHIT, how do you know, WHO you can trust?  I mean, lookin’ ‘round here, you’ll see, ALL those GOD damn BUSINESSES that put people’s lives in danger, because they’d wanted to save up on the dollar, and, you ALSO have people, who are still ABUSING one another’s trust, everywhere.

The dangerous thing about trust, you can’t just, TRUST anybody, especially strangers, because you don’t KNOW what their intentions are, and, more often than not, their intentions are NEVER good!

So, what, do we do?  Do we, become skeptics, in the realms of trust?  Do we, still keep that faith, that people are naturally good, and, how, can we, make sure, that the environment won’t get to us, with ALL those bad news that are still currently, playing, playing, playing, AND replaying out there?

 

 

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Filed under Being Exposed, Cost of Living, Downward Spiral, Expectations, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life

The Elderly Woman Was on a Cart, Being Transported to the Hospital in the Hot Weather, the Passersby Were Extremely Kind, Put Up Shades So She Won’t Get Overheated

Help from strangers, goodness in the world here, from the Front Page Sections, translated…

The owner of the roadside food stand, the truck driver, the young man who volunteered for the local worships put up the money and gave the assistance, were reported for doing good?  “There’s no need to put our good deeds out there.”

The eighty-year-old elderly woman, Lin two days ago, lay on her flatbed transport, her daughter rode her motorcycle, and dragged the flatbed, with her on it, to the hospital, the oyster-fry shop owner, the truck driver, and a young man who volunteered at the temple celebrations witnessed this, they’d put up the money, to get the elderly woman to the hospital, and installed warning lights on her flatbed, and this once again, showed that heartwarming stories are still, occurring throughout Taiwan.

The elderly woman, Lin, lived on the third floor of a housing unit with her fifty-eight year-old daughter, they’d picked up recycle materials to make ends meet, and because it’d become hard, for the elderly to climb up the stairs, she’d often slept in the cart that she’d used to haul off the recycling materials with.

The elderly woman has a debilitating condition, every two months, she’d needed to go to Changgang Hospital in Chiayi to see her physician, but, they were without money for a cab, each and every time, the daughter would ride on her motorcycle, pulling along the flatbed, and she’d ride for eighteen kilometers, to get her mother to her doctor’s appointment.  And because her elderly mother is sitting on the flatbed, she’d ridden her motorcycle very slowly, and, each time, the trips took them over an hour each way.

Two afternoons ago, around five, the mother and daughter showed up as they’d passed through the Chingtien Temple, and was spotted by the oyster fry stand owner, Hou, and the truck driver, Chen.

“I could tell, by one look, that they’re not well off!”, the driver, Chen told, the mother daughter were parked by the side of the road, the elderly woman was without any mobility, lay, slanted, on the cart, and, other than the quilt that was beside here, there was also, a store-bought packed lunch; the elderly woman’s daughter was sweating like crazy, panted, told that she’d ridden for forty minutes, she’d become overheated and tired, she stopped, to rest.

The owner, Hou and the pickup driver, Chen decided to put up the money, so the elderly woman could be transported via a cab, and, a couple of the young men from the temples saw, and they all went to help out.

The youth from the temple, Huang said, everybody worked together, some flagged down the cab, some accompanied the elderly on the ride, some rode alongside the daughter, to help the elderly cross the streets, he’d bought a flashing light, placed it at the tail of the flatbed.

Huang said, that the cab driver was kind too, kept waiting for them at the hospital, and then, he took the elderly woman home.  The trip cost five hundred dollars, but the men gave the driver an extra hundred dollar bill.

The group of young men were asked, “Can we mention your act of kindness on the papers?”, everybody frowned and said, “This, is what we can do to help out, there’s no need, to make it known to the world.”

And here, we still have kindness from strangers, because they saw this elderly woman who was in need, and, they all chipped in, to offer her assistance, and, this, is a heartwarming story, in this world that’s growing colder every single day, as there are so many awful things happening in the world right now, and we need MORE stories like this one, to keep our faiths up.

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Filed under A Cycle of Kindness, Helping Behaviors, Kindness Shown, Life, News Stories, Perspectives, Properties of Life, Social Awareness, Social Issues, Trends

My Father & the Symphony of Life

On death, translated…

A few minutes later, the workers flipped my father’s still limp body to the side, he was like a well-behaved child, asleep, not moving at all.

My father had never allowed anybody to do him like this ever, he’d been a serviceman his whole life, he was the forward when he was younger when he’d played basketball, before he’d retired from the army, he worked as a head of a certain department too, a very respected man by all, I suppose.

After he’d gotten out of the services, he’d started making his own way, volunteered for a Hakka magazine, and, when he was asked along, to perform the traditional Hakka skills, he’d gone, as he pleased, NEVER followed anybody’s requests………

But this time, it was, out of his hands, we saw how our father, whose body was weakened by the cancer cells, got lifted onto a gurney………

Pushed, toward the morgue………

Outside of the ICU, the doctor handed me several forms, said, my father was actually kept alive by the machines, that they’d needed the agreements from the families, in order to pull the plug on him, I, being his eldest son, if I agree, then, I should sign on the forms, later on, the medical staff would unplug him, and, allow his heart to stop on its own.

All of a sudden, I felt this heaviness on the pen that I was holding, it’d become, as heavy as a steel blade………

Like the judges of the ancient times, I’d imagined, that if I’d pushed the pen across the “verdict”, and, immediately, I will hear the sounds of sharpened cries from all around.

Every word I’d spoken to the medical staff was like coughing up blood for me, I’d pleaded to the paramedics: to up the dosage, but don’t do CPR on him, I feared, that his ribs may get broken, and my father who can’t speak anymore would have to weather through even more pains.

That was, passed the autumn season, into the winter of 2013.  The Northern Hemisphere was either covered with yellowed leaves, or covered in the first layers of snow.

On an afternoon in the bottom of November, I’d gotten an emergency call from overseas from my younger sister, said that my father’s heart had stopped in his sleep, and the nurses asked her if she wanted to keep him alive

Considering that she’d wanted me to see my father again, she’d signed the papers to resuscitate, which was very difficult for her to make.

And just like so, my father’s heart resumed beating again……

And, I’d immediately bought a non-transfer flight back to Taipei that very night, with the mindset of how the world is covered with the first layer of snow…

Knowing that that was, the last time I’d touched my father’s body, I’d known, that there was still, an old soul, hanging on, because he’d miss us, and I just wanted to feel the last heat from that soul, to this body, because, the snow had gotten thicker, and heavier!

My father had been troubled by gout for a very long time, from the year before, when he was diagnosed with fourth stage lung cancer, his gout came over, back then, there were stones, growing inside of the joints of both his hands, I’d rushed back to visit with him, other than eating his meals, he’d spent his entire days in bed.

Recalling once, as my father sat up, to change into clean underwear, he couldn’t lift his arms up, so the clothes could fit onto him, he’d sighed, “There’s nothing I can do.”

As I’d helped him, I’d consoled with him, “You’re no longer young anymore, dad!”

Actually, I felt very fake, my father’s getting weakened, was the result of the attacks of his cancer cells and his gout combined!

If taking away the cancer and the gout, my father is pretty healthy, he’s already eighty years old, and was still reporting the news for the Hakka magazines, I saw him several times, with a camera in front of him, with a notebook in hand, riding to the place where he was interviewing someone, looked like he was really enjoying himself, and, his son who works in the reporting industry, I just couldn’t say anything, he’d told me proudly several times, “my reporting abilities don’t pale by comparison to you, younger generations at all.”

I’d smiled and nodded, “You get better with time!”

He’d smiled, and gloated even more, “Must have been all the running on the courts when I was younger!”

At the start of this year, my gout started, the doctor saw how my right elbow swelled up like a volleyball, he’d managed to drain a lot of yellow fluid from my joints, and found that my white blood count was over, worried I might be infected, and didn’t know if I had a bone fracture, so, he’d done a complete CT scan on me.

And, it was, a white elderly person who was in front of me.

Because I only had to get my one arm scanned, it was over very quickly.

As I came out, I saw the white elderly man lying in the bed, waiting for the staff to finish filling out his forms, then push him back to his room.  I’d needed to wait for my results from the CT scan, and so, I sat down next to him, and struck up a conversation with him.

I’d asked him, what he had?

“Cancer of the larynx!”, he’d replied in a light voice

“Oh!”, I’d become stumped, didn’t DARE ask him for the stage.

Then, I’d asked him, “How old are you?”

“Eighty-one.”

“Are you scared?”, I thought, at his age, he’s probably not afraid of dying.

“Yes!”, his voice was shaking, which shocked me, “I love life very much, I fear leaving those I love behind.  If cancer is only painful to me, and I won’t die from it, then, I’m more than willing to put up with it, because, I love this world way too much, I can’t let go of my loved ones, those whom I love and love me.”

A very good friend of mine, fell ill, and started going in and out of the hospitals a lot.

The very first night he was admitted, his heartrate and pulse had stopped, for over twenty minutes, and was found by the orderly who was checking the rooms, they’d performed emergency resuscitation on him, and he didn’t die.

That day, I’d gone to the hospital to visit with him, and we’d held a very lighthearted conversation.

I was very curious of the time his heart had stopped for around half an hour, I’d asked him, if he’d had the near-death experiences like in the movies, seeing how his life flashed before his eyes, how his deceased loved ones smiled at him, and a lighted path………

He shook his head, smiled and told me, “It was like I was in a deep sleep, no feelings at all.  When I woke up, I saw the doctors and my wife by my side.”

“So, that was, a sort of an outer body experience?”

He’d nodded:

I know, that if I’d died, I will bring so much pains to my loved ones.  But, in that condition, it’s just, no joy, no sorrow, no ecstasies, no worries……then………life, had finished, one more cycle.

My father’s body and his coffin were, pushed in, and we stood outside the walls, hearing the fires roar, like hearing the fourth movement of Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony, silently, stared at the black smoke outside the chimney, coming out, rushing, toward the skies.

I saw, my father, smiling at us, through the rising of the smokes, it though……

And, it was like, I didn’t, see anything, at all!

And so, this, is someone’s final passage of life, to the moment that he’d died, and, the families are still the ones, left with the pieces to pick up.

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Filed under Awareness, Family Matters, Life, Loss, On Death & Dying, Perspectives, Properties of Life