6 Months
Posted by eirene83 at 11:33 PM on September 24, 2008 in Personal.
It's been nearly half a year now... It doesn't feel like it was that long ago. But it actually has been 6 months since I've last heard my mom's voice and seen her face. It doesn't seem like it was that long... I guess we've just all gotten into the routine of going to work, coming back, making sure the house is clean and willing the weekend away so we can just all get back to work and not have to face the house without her in it.
Not exactly living per se... Just coping one day at a time. And I think that's the best we can manage because there isn't actually any way we can 'get over this' like a friend of mine told me to do. I just feel somewhat insulted everytime that person tells me to move on, my mom's in a better place, just go out and do something. Maybe it's that simple for him since he's not even close to his parents... but for me, I feel offended.
The pain is there, deep inside. It doesn't hurt if I don't poke at it but I know it's there... And I know it won't ever go away. And when I think of how my mom asked us to let her come home when she was in the hospital, I never once thought I would be bringing her back in a coffin. And that tears me inside.
Go and Come Back Safely
Posted by eirene83 at 01:51 AM on September 26, 2008 in Personal.
I recalled today this scene:
A woman in a kimono, bowing as her husband left and wishing his back, "Itterasshai." [Generally means take care; see you later]
It was from a Korean sci-fi movie someone had lent me many many years ago; I can't remember the name of the movie now or much of the plot... But to this day, that scene sticks because it was so poignant. She knew her husband wasn't or couldn't ever come back... yet she still wished him 'itterasshai'.
Tis a bittersweet thing... Sending someone off knowing they'll never come back.
And having to bring someone back when you didn't even know you were sending them off.
She always said she wanted to come home. I just never thought it would be this way.
Karma
Posted by eirene83 at 09:06 PM on September 28, 2008 in Library, Thoughts, Personal.
Once upon a time, there lived a
student named Kong Lu. He was engaged to be married. However, his soon-to-be
wife left him for another man just days before the day of the wedding.
It
destroyed Lu when he found out, so much so that he fell gravely ill in bed. Nothing
anyone said, or did helped. Doctors came from all around to try to cure him, but
he remained bed ridden. It was obvious to everyone that Lu didn’t have much
longer to live.
Around this
time, a traveling monk passed through town seeking food and shelter.
He’d been turned down by five houses before arriving at the Kong
household. It’d been a
long journey for him. The Kong family respectfully took the monk in and
offered
him steamed buns and hot tea, and also a bed to sleep in for the night.
During
dinner, the monk learned of Lu’s situation from his mother. He decided
he would
stay and help.
The monk approached the bed-ridden
student, and pulled out a mirror from his robe. The monk asked the student to
look into the mirror. What the student saw in the mirror was a tumultuous
ocean. There was something on the beach. It was a woman’s body, lying there. A
woman no one knew. Poor woman, thought Lu.
Just then, a man walked past the
woman’s body, shook his head in disgust, and went on his way. A little later, a second man walked by the
woman on the beach. He stopped for a moment, took off his jacket, covered her
body out of respect, and went on his way.
A third man walked by the body and
stopped. He knelt by the deceased and prayed for her. He then dug a grave, and
buried her body. He carved a headstone and placed it at her grave. Every year,
on the same day, the man would bring food and burn incense as offering for her at
her gravesite.
The scenery in the mirror changed.
Now the student saw his fiancée, on her wedding day. Her red wedding veil was
lifted by another man. It was the man she left Lu for. This image made Lu angry
and sad. He didn’t understand what it all meant.
The monk explained, “The dead woman
on the beach was the woman you almost married, in her previous life. You were
the second person who walked by, the one who covered her dead body with your
clothes. It was very kind of you to do so. The love she shared with you in this
life was her way of repaying you for your kindness in the previous life. In the
end, however, she owed a great debt to the man who buried her body, and cared
for her gravesite year after year, all for a total stranger. She will spend the
rest of her life with that man in this lifetime.”
“Her soul decided on these courses
of action prior to her being born. Everything is decided before we arrive in
our physical bodies. Such is karma. And when one understands karma, there can
be no suffering, because one knows there’s a purpose behind every action, and
reaction. Debts are constantly repaid, and love constantly shared. It’s a
beautiful web of life we weave. So cherish what you have, and the people who
love you. Be kind to all, because karma is at work.”
The student didn’t say a word. He
understood. When he woke up the next day, he was well again. He got out of bed
and went to see his parents. He cried and told them that he was grateful for
having them in his life. Lu never felt happier.
The monk told the family it was
time for him to depart. The family steamed warm buns for him to take on the
road, as he had a long journey ahead of him.
Lu thanked the monk for saving his
life.
“No, thank you,” said the monk.
A surprised Lu asked, “Thank me?
What for?”
“You see my son, I had a dream last
night. In that dream, I saw myself in another life. In that life, you provided
me with food and shelter in my time of dire need, when you had so little for
yourself. So I thank you. And I’m once again indebted to you, and your family
for your generosity. For providing food and shelter when no one else would, so
that I can continue my mission of spreading the teachings of Buddha. It is a
debt I hope I can repay next time around.” With that said, the monk smiled, and
continued on his journey.