Category Archives: Values

The Values one hold, the meanings of things

Leaving One Last Play Behind

An example of how to set up, one’s own, final assets, regarding the divisions of inheritances, and one’s own, final care too!  Translated…

In the past, we were, coworkers, AND rivals too.  I’d, hated how she’d, talked trash about me in her conversations, but I couldn’t, help but feel in awe at how swiftly she’d, handled the matters at work, or how she was able to, realize something way before the rest of us had.  I’ll admit, I’m, a bit jealous of her.  After I’d, left my former place of work, I’d heard, that she’d, switched to working in another company too, and had even, gotten promoted to a manager.  Thanks to the internet, it’d, connected us again, and we’d, started, talking sporadically, about the things that are of, no important, matters.

Not long ago, she’d asked me out for coffee, out of curiosity, I’d, agreed.  The day we met up, she’d, lost a ton of weight, and, her eyes were, a whole lot, softer too.  She’d told me she was now, retired, I’d, prodded, “Would your boss let you go?  Wasn’t he the least bit afraid, that nobody will, fill your shoes?”, she’d smiled and told me, “he had to, because, which business owner wanted, to keep a cancer patient on the payroll?”, I felt that shock inside.  Turned out, she’s been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, the third stage.  She’d told her oncologist, that she won’t be going through the extensive treatment measures, only keeping her pain controlled, during this time period, she’d first shown gratitude toward her older brother and sister-in-law, to tell her only daughter that she loves her, that on the road of single parenthood, her daughter, was her one and only, biggest console; and lastly, she thought, of me, wanted to apologize to me, that from when we’d worked together, she’d always, talked trash because she’d, envied how perfect my family is, and how everybody in the office got along with me so well………..

I didn’t know what to say to her, and, all the encouragements, and words of console seemed, excess and unnecessary.  So I’d asked her, if she’d, set up her final affairs?  For instance, the most practical, transferring her assets, the properties and the cash too, I was so certain, that it was to dodge the inheritance taxes, she’d, totally have, already, transferred the money to her daughter’s accounts, but that was, not what, she’d done.  Other than giving partial of her assets to her daughter, she’d, donated some to charitable causes, and, saved some for herself, including the property she now, lives in.  I was so curious, as to why she’d, saved some for herself?  She’d told me she wasn’t, a stingy person, although she’s, dying, but how much longer will she be, around?  The doctor’s verdicts may not be, absolute, she’d hoped, that she could, walk her final mile in someplace familiar, her own, home, and, during this time, she would, need to, spend the money to care for her self, she’d, needed, to hire a nurse to take care of her, that she’d, needed, to take good care of herself in illness.  If she didn’t die, she’d not wanted to, rely on her daughter to help her live, although, the money her daughter has, were once, from her too, but she’d, transferred the money to her daughter’s name, and, it’s, no longer, owned by her.  She’d also told me, “I’d given my child so much, what’s a little inheritance tax on her part?”, it’d, made my heart shocked, such a different sort of parent, this was, the way, for a win-win.

As the shop was, about to close, we’d, asked the waiter to take a photo of us together, we’d said goodbye.  She’d told me, to not ask around about her then, she wouldn’t have any final rites, that tonight, was the last time we’ll, ever meet up.  She’d told me, “I want you, to remember me as right now!”

On the MRT, I’d, looked, at that photo of us, I’d, thought about what she’d said about her “saving a part of her own assets for herself”, I’d felt, that she was, a role model, for how all parents should, set up the inheritances to give to their young, she’d been, an, amazing competitor, whom I’d, learned, a whole lot from that’s for sure!

And so, this, was how well-thought-out this woman was, of planning her own final affairs, she’d, made sure that her daughter will be, taken care of, and, used the amount after she’d set aside for her own daughter’s sake, to donate to charity, and, saved another portion for herself for her own, final care, that way, she wouldn’t become a burden to her own young, and she’d, still, managed, to leave her daughter with something, as well as, help those in need too.

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Filed under Cost of Living, Decision-Making, Expectations, Lessons, Letting Go, Life, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life, Values

The Deceased

Translated…

The Wind and Rain Suddenly Came in the Middle of the Nights

Hacked Hard, at the Boards in the Backyard.  As Dawn Breaks, the Sun, Seeped Through, the Cracks of the Windows

First, it was, Cohen, with His, Lower Voice, Gone, then, Wanda and Her Smiles Too.  I Was, Once Like, Their Child, Growing in Their, Happiness.  They’d, Left Some of Whom They Loved Behind, on the Vinyl Players, Some, Oxidized with the DVDs, Some, Can’t Even Remember Themselves, Slowly, Dissipated, into the Air, Touching Those Strangers they Meet on Occasions.

As My Son Lay on Me Before He Drifts to Sleep, He’d Wanted Me to be a Boat.  To Rock, to Sway Singing on, How Much Longer, Can I, Carry You?  The Small Boat Has its Own Paths, to Sail, to Vanish.  But, I Shall, Return, I Shall, Keep on, Rocking You, Be it Rain or Wind, or that, Soundless, Sunshine Through Your Windows.

And this, is on death, on how we can, keep those we’d lost in our minds, and they’re not, really gone away, after all, NOBODY can, escape, death, because you were, born once!

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Filed under Awareness, Because of Love, Coping Mechanisms, Letting Go, Life, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, the Finality of Life, Values

Sir, I Want Some Baked Goods that Are, Imperfect

The acts of kindness, initiated by the owner of the bakery, and it warms everybody who knows the details of what’s going on, translated…

Yesterday, as I was at the bakery selecting my breads, suddenly, a boy of about ten ran into the shop in a hurry, started hollering to the owner, “Sir, give me some imperfectly baked breads!”, the owner of around sixty years of age squinted his eyes, smiled and replied, “okay!”, then, I saw the child used the clasps, picked up a few breads, the owner bagged the items for him, and only took one small coin from his hand, then, handed him the goods, and told him, to walk carefully, and, the owner smiled, as he saw the young boy off.

Those of us, customers who saw this scene, we’d, all looked at each other, and smiled, while the owner of the shop told, with a heavy note, that the boy’s name is, “Lucky”, he was, a prematurely born child, back then, his mother gave birth to him out of wedlock, and couldn’t tell who the father was, in the end, she had to, leave the family, abandoning her own son, and for many years, nobody’s, heard from her, for several years, the boy was, left to raised by his grandmother who’d, lost her husband.  She’d hoped that he would be, blessed, thus, she’d, named him, “Lucky”, but because she’s elderly, without abilities to work, she could, only make the amount from recycling the materials, they lived on, very, poor.  “Thankfully, although Lucky may be, developmentally delayed, but his physical growth was, normal, he’d, helped his grandmother out without being asked regularly.”

a batch like this???查看來源圖片sold, at a, discounted price here!  Photo found online

The owner told, that since he learned of Lucky’s story, when he’d come to buy the breads, he’d, symbolically, accepted a coin from him, as payment.  But, one time, his grandmother took him in, pointed to the bread, then inquired to the owner, that did Lucky steal the breads?  If not, how come, all the money she’d, given to him were, still there?  The owner replied, “Lucky is a good kid, he did NOT steal anything, he’d bought the ‘breads not baked perfectly’, so that’s why, I gave it to him, at, a discounted price!”, as the grandmother heard, she’d, felt relieved, and continually, thanked the owner for his, kind heart.

As I’d heard the owner of the bakery told the story, a surge of warmth rushed up.  Think about it, Lucky is, exactly like his grandmother hoped he’d become, a kid blessed, otherwise, how would he have, met up with the kindhearted, bakery owner?

And so, this, is one of these tiny tales that warms up the heart of those who heard, read, and knew it, and, the owner of the bakery saw that this young man was in need, and, started giving him the help, because he knew, that he and his grandmother, are living on so little, and this story warmed up the hearts of others, it gives us hope, to see, that there are, still, smallest amounts of kindness, happening, all around us.

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Filed under A Cycle of Kindness, Expectations, Helping Behaviors, Kindness Shown, Lending a Helping Hand, Life, Observations, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, Stories of Hope, Story-Telling, Values

Seeing You Off

The final passage, remembering the woman whom you’d come to know, as your, mother-in-law, from your father-in-law’s second marriage, translated…

Sitting silent, in the back of the church, on the wooden bench, stared at the white coffin, paved with flowers in the shrine, hearing the pastor slowly, told of your, eighty-two years of colorful life; as the pastor described you as being straightforward, generous, it’d, made me cry, and I’d, lifted up my head and smiled, started recalling the thirteen years of friendships we’d, come to share in life.

It was a snowy day in April in Norway, my husband who’d, planned to be single for the res of his life, drove me in his car, and, came to your door, my father-in-law, and his second wife, you, immediately led us in, and, in a panic, started, preparing the snacks, the coffees to serve to me, an unwelcomed guest.  Back then I wasn’t, fluent in Norwegian, I’d spoken in fluent German with my father-in-law, and, it’d, made you, who lived in the U.S. for over a decade object, that you had difficulties understanding us, and, we’d, realized that we had, excluded you, and immediately, we’d, both started switching to talking in English then.

On Christmas Eve that first year of our marriage, you’d, burst the hopes of your three daughters, sons-in-law, and nine grandchildren’s dreams of family union, you’d come to our home, and, baked for us, the traditional Norwegian pork ribs, meat balls, and sausages, and prepared seven types of pastries.  And, as lucky as I in the first time, I’d, scooped up, the only almond, hidden inside the rice pudding, and received, that special award for piggy almond candy.  Underneath the Christmas tree with the Norwegian flag, were the gifts, stacked up, you, my father-in-law, my husband and I, the four of us, sat around the tree, and started, tearing open the presents, the excitement, the joys, it’d, filled up the house.

The summer that my mother, second aunt, and nephew visited Norway, you’d not just, invited them, you’d also, found your youngest who’s my age, along with your young granddaughter, who’s around the same age as my nephew as company, you’d, set up a wooden board in your yard, with the balloons, and started, shooting the darts.  And even though, it’d rained that day, we’d, still, had a ton of fun; to this very day, my mother still talked of the cherries, the raspberries, and currants you grew in your own yard.

On your seventy-fifth, because your body was, ailing, you’d, delayed your birthday celebration in May, but you’d, not told us flat out, only asked, if we’re available to show up in June.  And, as my husband and I arrived, I’d found, that it was, a family birthday celebration your daughter, son-in-law, and grandson had set up for you; we’d, not brought anything, and we were, embarrassed, but you’d laughed and told, that it was because you didn’t want any presents, that was why, you’d, not told us it was to celebrate your birthday.

illustration from UDN.com圖/錢錢

2017 was, especially cruel to you.  First, your best friend who lived in the U.S. died in the spring at the age of over ninety, several months later, it was, my father-in-law, the second love of your life, passed away, in the autumn.  On the evening my father-in-law passed, you, me, and my husband, the three of us, stayed close by his side, until he’d, swallowed his, last breath.  You’d, dragged your, deteriorated health, your, slow steps home; the following day, we took you to the funeral home, to set up my father-in-law’s final affairs, you’d spoken of how you’d, not slept through the night, that you’d, paced around in the living room; even as your kids and grandkids were there, to accompany you, it still, didn’t, take away from your losing your husband.

Within two years after my father-in-law’s funeral, I sat here, in this, same church, heard the same pastor, hosting your funeral.  This pastor was the one who’d, conducted the wedding ceremony of you and my father-in-law thirty years back, he’d retired since, but, two years ago, he’d, made an exception for my father-in-law, spoken on his funeral, and this time, for you too.  You marrying my father-in-law, had once cast a huge shadow for my husband’s not introducing me to his own mother, but, for the eighteen years, the three of you had, died, and all the displeases of the past are now, gone, with the wind.  I’d heard of the news of your death as I’d returned from Egypt, I’d, come, to see you off, I’m so grateful for your kindness toward me, even more grateful, that you were, a “stand-in mother-in-law” to me, giving my families and I, such, wonderful, memories.

And so, this, is on how strong the connections of strangers who became, families are, and this still just showed, how if you’re kind to your daughters or sons-in-law, they will, reciprocate, and love you like you were, their own, parents too.  This is quite rare, to see a stepmother-in-law and a daughter-in-law get along so very well together.

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Filed under Connections, Expectations, Family Dynamics, Family Matters, Friendships, Lessons, Letting Go, Marriages, Memories Shared, Observations, Parenting/Parenthood, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Story-Telling, the Finality of Life, Values

The Sense of Humor that the Bus Driver Has

Through an act of kindness toward a stranger, hoping, that someone else will follow your lead, and show the same kindness needed, to the man too, translated…

I took my six-year-old son out and waved at the bus driver as we were, catching the bus.  Unless nobody’s getting on or off, the driver would, stop at every bus stop.

To a certain stop, we saw the driver run really fast off the bus, then, slowly, helped a visually impaired person on board, right then and there, I saw the man with a sign with the bus route written on it, readied, to put it inside his knapsack, and that was when I’d learned, that as the visually impaired man heard the bus wheeze by his side, he’d, taken out the sign, so the drivers can see it.

like this???查看來源圖片kindness, sighted!  Photo found online

The driver confirmed with him what station he was getting off, returned back to the driver’s seat, I saw the man with his cane, prodding around, headed slowly, toward a certain object on the bus, I’d, reminded him quickly, “sir, there’s a seat next to you!”, he’d, patted the structures of the seats, asked, “right here?  Thanks!”, my husband next to me spoke in synchrony, “Yes, be careful sitting down!”, I watched him smiled, and nodded toward our direction, then, he’d, picked up his cell phone, put on his earphones, and immersed himself in the music happily.

As I was about to get out, the man was, still enjoying his music, I’d, held my son’s hands, as we got off the bus, because I believed, that this, was going to be, a beautiful relay, that as others saw how helpful I’d been to this man, that he was in need of assistance, I’m more than certain, that others onboard the bus will also, lend him, a helping hand.

And so, kindness still, started with one, and this woman hoped, that with her show of kindness toward the visually impaired passenger onboard the bus, someone else will also, follow her example, in lending the man, a helping hand, and this, is exactly, how kindness gets passed down from one person to the next, it all starts, with one!

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Filed under A Cycle of Kindness, Awareness, Cause & Effect, Connections, Helping Behaviors, Inspirational Tales, Lending a Helping Hand, Life, Observations, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, Stories of Hope, Story-Telling, Translated Work, Values

Passing Through, on a Bamboo Raft, a Poem

On burying one’s own, offspring, translated…

A Bamboo Raft, Like a Red Lotus Passed Through

Vanished, into the Fog

“Affinities of Children, Thin Like the Foams on the Waterfront”

So True These Words

Watching the Sunset Light Withering in the West

Time Has No Place Here

Memories Can’t Hide

The Awareness, Electric Shocked

Who isn’t, Like that Small Raft

Drifting in-Between Life & Death

Listening to the Heaviness of the Repentance of Love & Lust

With the Broken Bridges, Severed Off Streams, the Dying Smokes

And so, this, is finally, coming to one’s senses about the finality of life, because you’d lost the ones you loved when they were too young, and you are, still living, you’d, needed to, cope with losing the ones you cared for, loved, your, own young…

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Filed under Awareness, Because of Love, Coping Mechanisms, Cost of Living, Despair, Lessons, Letting Go, Life, Loss, On Death & Dying, Story-Telling, the Finality of Life, Translated Work, Values

Because of Your Not Ready to Let Me Go, I Had to, Suffer, Longer than I Had to…

tattooed, around the area where the tube is, supposed to, go in…photo from online

I’d been found, in the TERMINAL stage of cancer, it’d, progressed too advance, metastasized, took over, my other organs as well, but because of your not ready to let me go, I had to, suffer, longer than I had to.

I get, that you love me, and couldn’t see me die, but heck, EVERYBODY dies, I’d, already, come to understand that, through the course, of this, illness, and, as my cancer had, progressed, little, by little each and every day, I’d, become, less than all I once was, I’d lost, ALL my dignities, I’d started, wearing DIAPERS for crying on loud, and needed people, to carry me up and down, and I can’t even, sit STRAIGHT, in my god damn, WHEELCHAIR either!

Despite everything that’s been done, my cancer is still “on”, in fact, it’s, MORE than on, and, this last round of chemo, it’d, left me, so FUCKING weak, I can’t even see anything in front of my eyes now.

查看來源圖片the forms…photo from online

Is this the way, I want to live? HELL no! And yet, you’re, still, keeping me here, but W-H-Y, huh? Why do you, HATE me so, that you feel compelled, to DRAG me through this SHIT in these dying days of mine? And, why can’t I, just, have some peace, and just, live from breath to breath?

I’m NOT afraid to D-I-E, by any measures, in fact, I wish I were DEAD now, and yet, look at, these tubes that are, attached to my body, there’s one, to drain out the excess fluids, one that’s, in my arms, to draw the blood out for testing’s sake, and oh, do you not see, this tube that’s, stuck down MY fucking throat here? And, don’t EVEN, get ME started, on what feeding time is like every single time here???

Now, ask yourselves this: would THIS be the way, you all want to, live out the rest of your lives? And, if you could have a choice, wouldn’t you, just, want someone, to PULL the P-L-U-G-S?

So, why are you, still, keeping your own loved ones, connected to that monitor, beeping, beeping, beeping, beeping, beeping, and beeping away, huh?

This is, completely, I-N-H-U-M-A-N-E, and NOBODY deserves to, LIVE like this, especially, NOT during those, final days, years, months of her/his, life………

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Filed under Awareness, Basic Human Rights, Because of Love, Cost of Living, Do-Not-Resuscitate, Euthanasia, Expectations, Issues of Morality, Letting Go, Life, Mercy Killings, Observations, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, Right to Die, The Right to Choose How One Will Die, Values