Tag Archives: Grief

You Can Give Up if You Want to…

You can give up if you want to, baby, I know it’s been hard, you’re a fighter, I know, but, I don’t want to see you fight anymore, because we’re fighting a war, with absolutely NO chance of us, winning it!

You can give up if you want to, don’t be so headstrong, child, don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine, and, surely, I will grieve, very hard, for you, but, that, is just how people deal with losses in their lives, they CRY, they MOURN for it, but, after a good cry, we still all must, get BACK up and run again.

You can give up if you want to, I know you’re a fighter, but, I don’t want to see you suffer anymore, so, just give up already, love.  You can give up if you want to, I won’t hold it against you, I know you love me, and I know that you know I love you too, and, I just can’t bear, seeing you slowly, deteriorate away, so, just let go, it’ll be okay, I promise………

You can give up if you want to, that doesn’t mean that you’d lost the fight, oh no, I will keep on, fighting, on your behalf, letting the world know your story, I will carry on everything you never got a chance to see and do, I will live on, and let the world know about you, so, you will NEVER be forgotten by anybody whose lives you’d touched.

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Filed under Cost of Living, Healing Process, Letting Go, Life, Loss, On Death & Dying, Properties of Life

After I Lost Him

After I lost him, I didn’t know what to do, I’d hollered out his name in pain, and, no one answered…After I lost him, I sank down, into that state of depression…

After I lost him, I couldn’t cope, I couldn’t deal, I was, beside myself, I felt stuck, and, I don’t know why.  After I lost him, I was, so lost, I’d lived my life, with him, as my center, my focus, and, all of a sudden, he’s, NO more!

After I lost him, I went on search, for my lost soul, and, I’d looked, long, AND hard, for the part of me that got lost with losing him.  After I lost him, I was sad, for, a very long time, and I just couldn’t, get out of that hole called depression, and, yet, the harder I dug, the deeper I’d sunk.

After I lost him, there was just, this shadow, that stayed, overcast, atop my head, and, no matter how hard I’d tried, I just, couldn’t, SHAKE it all away………

 

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Filed under Being Alone, Being Exposed, Loss, Moods, Emotions, & Feelings

When Someone You Love Dies

A part of you died with them too, didn’t it???  When someone you love dies, especially, all of a sudden, and, you were, unprepared for that loved one’s demise, you start to question: why!

And, if you keep on thinking in that mode, then, you’ll NEVER begin, to heal from your losses.  When someone you love dies, how can you accept it, especially if the person is still in the prime of her/his life, but hey, the person passed on, what can you do?  Bring her/him back to life (pardon me for saying this!)?  Of course not, and, you may, need the company of denial for a bit, because the death of that certain person came too suddenly, left you, unprepared, to cope with everything that’s happened.

When someone you love dies, you may not be able to at first, but you will, eventually, let time, slowly, wash your pains away, and one day, you’d wake up, and the first thought that popped into your head was that specific person that had passed on, but, you no longer feel sad over the loss of her/him, then, you’d finally, moved on, but, that still doesn’t mean that you’d forgotten, oh no, for the person’s death had, left a deep impact, on your lives, you’re just able to, move forward, because you’d found a way, to live with, to cope with the losses you’d endured.

And that, is how, you heal back up, and, this, is still, a very difficult process, but, you WILL manage it, you must, you have to, because if you don’t, you will NEVER, walk out from the losses in your lives, and, you’d become, TRAPPED by that sensation of loss, of sorrow, and that, is not a good way to live at all………

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Filed under Cause & Effect, Coping Mechanisms, Despair, Healing Process, Loss, Moods, Emotions, & Feelings, On Death & Dying, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Values

The Jingles of Love

Translated…

Reading the article, “The Beautiful Sound of the Bells”, it’d reminded me of my second eldest sister, who is eight years older than I.

My second eldest sister had been like my eldest sister, managed everything about me, big and small issues, and, on the weekends, she still didn’t take days off, she’d stayed at home, to watch the family shop.  And, in her spare time of watching the family shop, she’d blinked her beautiful, round eyes, and hummed the tunes that were popular for those who were born in the fifties, “Asking the Clouds”, and, “Watch the Colorful Clouds Fly”.  In my memories, there would be many who’d admired her so, who’d come to our shop to buy things, for the sake of watching her at work, and to hear her beautiful voice.  At which time, the “Bells of Love” she’d sung would become even more moving, “the bells sounded off, jingling, kept calling out to me, like asking me, if I wanted to, sing along with it, to sing out the hopes of love, with the accompaniment of the music……”

My sister after she married, she’d immigrated to the States, twelve years ago, she’d come back from Texas.  At age fifty, she’d hoped, to returned, and settled, back into her roots, without realizing, that the moment she’d stepped off that plane, she’d gone straight, into the hospital, until she’d died, she was never able to, make it back home, to the family she loved dearly.

In “The Polar Express”, it’d mentioned, how you only need to believe in Santa Claus, then, you’d be able to hear the jingle bells.  I don’t know if Santa really DOES exist, but that year, at age seven, I’d had the chance to put on that pure white ballet dress and shoes, and, danced along to an old classic, my second eldest sister made it possible for me to.  During the time of filing the taxes, she’d asked her boss for more hours, and, made my dreams come true, just like Santa would.

Remembering my second eldest sister, I’d played out the song, “The Bells of Love”, and, my tears came, uncontrollably with the sounding off of the notes: the bells, jingle, jingle, jingled…

A story of loss is what this is about, and, you can see how close this woman is to her sister, her sister became like a spoiling parent toward her, and, it was very unfortunate, that this woman’s older sister had passed away, just when she was about to return back to her roots, and, she’d remembered all the kindness shown to her by her older sister, and that, would be the memories of her lifetime…

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Filed under Family Matters, Interactions Shared with the World, Kindness Shown, Letting Go, Life, Loss, the Finality of Life, Translated Work

Post-Mortem Sorrows

The sorrows that comes after someone’s death, and, yes, it’s all in hindsight, because NO amount of tears you are crying now, will bring the DEAD back to life again.

Post-mortem sorrows, they came, after you’d died, not immediately, of course, but during the phase of grief, when you’re just beginning, to feel that strong sense of loss, and then, everything rolled out, and you’ll surely, start, to wail so freakin’ loud.

Post-mortem sorrows, consider it hindsight if you will, and, NO amount of tears you can possibly crank out, will give the family back what they’d lost, so, why don’t you just all, SAVE it already!!!  Post-mortem sorrows, this happens, because you did NOT cry enough while that person was still living, and now that s/he is gone, you’re HIT, with surges of sorrows, regrets, things left unsaid, blah, blah, blah, so that, is the origin of post-mortem sorrows, but hey, that’s just my interpretations, feel free to agree or disagree if you want to.

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Filed under Healing Process, Loss, Properties of Life, Tragedies in the World, Wake Up Calls

The Time We’d Shared on Strolls Will Never Be Lost

Being an animal lover and all, translated…

Give Us a Brand New Chance at Life

I’d been writing in the column, “Love the Pets with Us” for a year now.  The very first article was “Loving a Dog Who Never Comes Home”, the main character was a stray, Dan, I’d picked up from over a decade ago.  At the very end, I’d written:

On Dan’s collar, there was a small prayer satchel I brought back from Japan, it’s a two-piece set, one for the pet, one for the owner.  I’d hung mine on my backpack, and, when we are out on walks, Dan who has on his collar, and me, with my backpack, we’d made the same jingling noise with the bell from the things, and, with our hurried steps, the jingles would come faster.  For me, that, was how in-synch we were in love, how our hearts shared the same beats, and it also symbolized the best time we’d shared, Dan and I.

A few days ago, I’d walked by the back patch of the NTU libraries, the place Dan and I had once trotted on, it was, quiet back then, the sound of the bell on my backpack became so clear and crisp, but that was, the sound of the loneliness, when I’d gone out on my own, because Dan had left me, on September 30th of this year.  Even so, the amazing, happy, wonderful memories that Dan and I shared will never be far away, a smile snuck up onto the corners of my lips, as I recalled once more, the wonderful time we’d shared on our strolls together, Dan and I.

As I was writing the first article for the column, Dan had just had surgery to remove his spleen, and after the biopsy, it was, lymphoma.  In a sense, this, was a sort of a blessing—Dan was originally placed in the backyard of the veterinary hospital, and, in order to make his last days better, my older sister, who was about to head over to Hong Kong to take up a teaching post couldn’t adopt him for long-term decided to take him home with her to stay whenever she could, and, Dan finally had the life of a beloved household pet, and, the path we took to walk changed from the back of the veterinary hospital, to the park close to my sister’s house.

After Dan got sick, I’d often gotten reminded of the book, “Maya’s First Rose”, an book that honestly told of how a pet fell ill to death, how the owners were overcome with sorrow and sadness of the loss of a beloved pet, “I kept praying nonstop, and my prayers consisted of just two lines: God, please give us one more spring, one more autumn.”   Even though I knew, no matter how many spring or winters I’d been given, it would never be quite enough, but my rational side told me, that every day is a gift, and I’d taken this unsettled heart, mixed in with a moment of cherish, walked with Dan, through the spring, and into the autumn.

Actually, Dan had just showed signs of loss of appetite two weeks before his passing, for animals with malignant tumors, he’d been blessed by Lady Luck, and so, I was granted more time, to go on strolls with him.  Later I’d found out, that Dan who’d stayed at my older sisters and the veterinary hospital interchangeably, he’d much more preferred the veterinary hospital as a place for walk, after all, it’s a well-known territory for him.  As he’d dragged me across the halls of the veterinary hospital, the assistants in the vet’s office would always inquire, “Taking Dan for a walk again?”, and not long afterwards when we’d come back, she’d also said, “Back so soon?”, that, was naturally NOT caused by my not taking him all the way around the neighborhood, but because of Dan’s marching manners.

The Chicken Meal that Came After Walk Became His Primary Motivation

Actually, on this road he’d grown familiar with, every day, for three whole years, there would be his admirers of the same species, or countless strangers who’d smiled at him, but, he, being very solitary, would not give them a moment of his time, kept urging onward; and, I would feel this gloat because he was mine—because being just like him, kept to myself a lot, on our walks, there would be a lot of people who’d smiled and commended, “What a cute dog!”……and there was also an older boy who sold dish rags, he’d always wanted to pet Dan as a show of friendship, and it’d made me, who was not at all into cleaning, buy a TON of dishrags from him, just because he liked Dan so.

Dan’s fast pace was not only caused by his temperament, but also he’d learned, that after we got home, he would get his full-course meal of chicken, cooked by me, so that, was why he wasn’t drawn to the world.  Once, I’d wanted to change things up a bit for him, my husband and I took him around the back of Politics University, he’d walked with this uneasiness, this hesitation about him all the way, didn’t seem to enjoy that walk at all, until we stopped to rest and I took out the chicken to feed him, that, was when he’d looked like “you should’ve given this to me earlier”, it’d made us laugh very hard.

As Dan checked into my sister’s home for his vacation, maybe he wasn’t at all, familiar with the paths, he’d become more of a stay-at-home geek.  On the one hand, he’d cherished the time on the couch, watching television with his family, and she could also keep an eye out for if someone’s gone into the kitchen, to bring her some food, and so, Dan was nicknamed the “Controller of the Kitchen” by my sister; but, after he’d gotten acquainted to the passages to the parks, Dan could enjoy the routines of sniffing around the park with my sister’s other dog, Dodo, and start “discovering the new world”; and, even though, most of the times, the older and shorter-legged Dan would get left behind by Dodo.

The very last time I’d taken Dan out alone, it was one night after the Mid-Autumn Festivals.  I would be so accustomed to talking to him constantly, and, theses are usually all praises I had for him, “Such a handsome boy you are”, “How could you be so cute?”, and “I love you so very much”, and the like.  On that day, I’d added, “Dan, there’s no one but us here, the entire park belonged to just the two of us, you are, the best leading man, don’t you know!”, then, I’d caught a glimpse of an elderly gentleman who was exercising using the park equipments, he must have been there for a long time?  And, I’d had to pretend that I didn’t see him, and just walk quickly by.

After Dan died, I not only cried once, for that smiling face I will never see again, but I know, that no matter how sad I’d gotten, it’s still NO excuse for the other animals we took care of.  The best leading man, Dan, had already lived his entire life, and now, he’d been written out of the scripts, but, I still must keep moving on.  Sometimes, I’d imagined, that if Dan could talk, after he’d looked back through his life, would he wanted to say to me, “Do prepare more chicken”, or, “I know you loved me the most in the world”?  Whatever his answers may be, I still wanted to tell him thanks, because with him, accompanying me for this time period, every step I’d taken, was shined upon by his bright smiles.

And so, this, is a woman’s way of saying goodbye to her beloved pet, and, it surely is hard, loving a pet so very much, and then, getting overwhelmed by the loss of the pet’s death, but, we will move on, step-by-step…

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Filed under Coping Mechanisms, Healing Process, Loss, Properties of Life

Face-to-Face, with the Man Who Killed My Family

Someone had, took my beloved family members from me, and, can’t stop hating him for it, he’d taken someone I loved away.

And now, I’m face-to-face, with the man who killed my family, and I have a gun.  I have a decision to make, to either take matters into my own hands, shoot him, kill him, or let the law take its course, and he will get convicted, and, serve his hard time for what he’d taken from me.

I’d struggled, really hard, to make this decisions, I mean, if I were to kill him, nobody would see my behaviors as bad, and I had, really, wanted to, take vengeance into my own hands.  Face-to-face, with the man who killed my family, I thought I could remain calm and collected, like I’d rehearsed over a million times already, but, when I saw him, that suppressed rage, it all, flowed back up to the surface, and, I felt such strong anger………

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Cause & Effect, Letting Go, Loss, Murder, Values

How Could the Dead Still Bleed?

Uh, D-U-H, STUPID question here!!!

How could the dead still bleed?  Oh yeah, this, would be a TRICK question, because the answer is N-E-G-A-T-I-V-E, and it still don’t make ANY sense at all.

How could the dead still bleed?  The answer is that it can’t, the dead is dead, meaning that ALL of their biological functions had stopped working, the heart had stopped beating, so, the dead can’t bleed!

How could the dead still bleed?  How can I still be hurting over someone who’s long DEAD and gone, out of my life?  How could the dead still bleed?  The dead can still bleed, because of effects of the deaths, and their impacts on the living, and that, is how the DEAD left their markings on the world.

How could the dead still bleed, don’t be stupid, you’d learned, from a very long time ago, like after Goldie the Goldfish died, you poked its cold, dead body, and it doesn’t move, nor would it follow your hand when you moved it up and down that tank…

How could the dead still bleed, they can’t, bleed, and all the bleeding, is still left, for the living to do, because we, the ones who are still here, would be the ones grieving, hard, over the dead who mattered to us.

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Filed under Coping Mechanisms, Cost of Living, Lessons, Loss, On Death & Dying, Socialization, Values

The Cold Came Late

Translated…

Last winter, after my mother and I came back home, my father told me my maternal grandfather had passed.  The two of them held on to one another and started crying, I went and pulled back the drapes, saw that it was snowing, the trees, and the small pond outside, are slowly, buried over, by the snowflakes.  I didn’t cry, I didn’t even show any inkling of painful emotion, my maternal grandfather’s death just gently fell onto my heart is all.  Toward my parents’ questioning gazes, I too, couldn’t understand why I lacked the proper reactions, I just don’t feel anything, toward my family members’ death.

After a few days, my aunts and my parents, and I went to visit my maternal grandfather’s burial site.  Before we left, my mother told me, “Do remember to cry.”  I thought, that as I’d approached my grandfather’s grave, I would surely start to wail out loud, but, as I saw the snow, covering over too many gravesites, I didn’t know how to move my emotions, I thought it was weird too, because, just like a singer who’s lost her voice, because I’d always had the reputations of a crybaby.

On the way home, the snow slowly melted away.  “Melted away”, such a warm phrase, as if the spring’s come, the flowers woke, it also seems like forgiveness too.  But, snowing isn’t cold, the melting of the snow is the coldest.  Standing outside my front door, the snow around me gave off that chill now, they’re loosening up, falling down, but, my moods, very even, even more so than the snow.

The coldness of the snow, came a bit too late, I’d thought to myself.

This May, on the way home from school, there was a ten minute walk from the bus stop to my house.  The roadside was covered with green trees, and the rays of the sun were cut by the leaves, and scattered all over the ground, there were yellow fruits that’s fallen, and the fruits were crushed by the pedestrians, and the flesh were baked by the sun, to give off of an intoxicating aroma.  That scent hit my nose, I couldn’t block it out even if I’d held my breaths.  A little further along, I’d felt, that the scent had become too familiar to me.

A decade ago, when I was eating at my maternal grandparents’ place, because I got too thirsty, I’d accidentally drunk my grandfather’s white wine by mistake.  The taste was spicy and hot, and I was only eight, or nine, maybe.

And, a surge of uncontrollably emotion hit me, all of a sudden, and I just froze.  I stood in the passageway into the trees, next to the piles of fruits that had fallen off the trees, picking up those memories, about my maternal grandfather.  On and off, on and off, I’d collected his voice and his smiles one by one, and, my tears came to me, uncontrollably, like how when someone, pouring tea failed to realize that the cups are already full.

This grief, came five month late.

The tears that were supposed to have fallen back last winter, had kept themselves hidden inside of me for five months!

The snow that should’ve been melted down completely last winter, until that day, I’d finally gotten in touch with that scent of chill deep down inside.

Actually, I’d had reacted emotionally late for a very long time, and it took me forever, to finally realize this about myself.

My elementary school, my middle school graduations, as my classmates exchanged their contacts and held onto one another and cried, I became like a member of the audience, watching a movie, the kind that’s NOT paying enough attention to the movies.  And still, a few months, or a few years later, their faces would come back up again.  Even I wasn’t aware, that I too, cared about the time we shared together.  And the sense of loss that came after the partings, would stick to my heart awhile, after some time.

Just like the “Dreams of the Red Mansion”, as I’d read it when I was still younger, I’d just felt that the male character was a harlot, and there was a hint of unspoken sorrow in the female main character, another character knows the ways with people.  The scene was very active at the beginning, but later, the place fell.  Decades later, I’d finally come to understand, that the male main character is actually a one-woman-man, and the female lead had already made up her mind, in accompanying the man she loved, behind the second leading lady’s smiles, is a toughness that was comparable to that of a man’s toughness.

The belated “snow melt”, maybe, it’s a way, to come full circle for me.

And so, for whatever reason there may have been, you’d delayed your emotional response to things you encounter, and that, is still NOT wrong or bad, it’s just how you are “pre-wired” is all, but still, that can be troublesome, because if you’d experienced this delay in emotional response always, then, you couldn’t act appropriately at the moments you were required to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Her Aunt Took Over the Role of Being Her Mother for Seventeen Years, and Helped Her Get Over the Loss, So She Could Find Her Happiness

On grieving and recovering from the loss of a loved one, translated…

Because of an accident, I’d gained half a reputation of a mother.  Still recalled a car wreck from seventeen years ago, my younger sister-in-law who was more like a sister to me, because she was HIT by a truck, driving the wrong way, she’d died before they could lift her to the hospital, leaving behind her four year old and her eight year old daughters.

My younger brother who felt that his affinity with his wife wasn’t over yet just couldn’t accept the death of his own wife as a fact, and would hit the walls and live in the pains of loss every single day, and, when he’d gone out drinking, by his friends and families’ invitations, I was the one, telling my nieces their bedtime stories, to help them fall asleep, waited until my younger brother returned, then, I’d headed home to rest, during the daytime, I’d helped out around his house, cooked, cleaned, chauffeured my nieces to and from school, reinstructed them in their lessons, signed the name on their assignment books, and became a contact on their list for the schools, and take them to the doctors, along with other small things.

My younger brother, who’s in the prime of his life, in a short decade’s time, had gone through life changes of getting married, having children, and losing his wife.  My younger brother who loved my nieces dearly, feared that if he took another wife, then, she wouldn’t treat his daughters, or our mother kindly, and so, he’d taken my advice, and focused on raising up his three daughters, with NO intentions of remarrying again.

In a blink of an eye, seventeen years flashed by, my youngest niece is now, a third year nursing student, she will graduate next year, but she’d already gotten certified as a registered nurse, and has NO worries of a job after graduation, my eldest niece too, graduated college, and just last year, she’d married the man she loved, and I took care of everything, from helping her to select the wedding cakes, to finding a banquet hall for her wedding dinner, it’s, as if I’m marrying my daughter off.  On her wedding, my niece, with tears in her eyes, thanked me for taking good care of her like she was my own daughter, asked me to love myself more, it’d made me cry, the pains and sorrows we’d endured, along with the joys now, of her marriage, it’s a HUGE mixture of feelings for me, and, it’s lifted this weight off my shoulder too.

Through the pains of the loss, feeling the weakness of life, along with the ever-changing status of life, we must all give thanks, and cherish everything we have, and, it’s about time, that my younger brother start finding a brand new love for himself too.

And so, see how much the father and the aunt had given up or, had put in, to raise these children, and that, is what a good family looks like, and, there’s still NOT very many good cases as this one in the world today.

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Filed under Because of Love, Expectations, Family Matters, Healing Process, Letting Go, Observations, Parent-Child Interactions, Parenting/Parenthood, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, Social Awareness, Socialization, Tragedies in the World, Translated Work, Values