Today is Popo’s birthday. Last night, I was spared heartache, because I was working on Chandran’s story. Something about Chandran and Amy finding each other for me, just makes this world, that wee bit better. I think they’re a powerful expression of, hope.
This morning, I was given an even bigger boost of cheer, when I found in my inbox, recent head shots sent from the Japanese-American actor, Jimmy T.
Jimmy T is my next guest. Ladies, you can thank me by sharing and sharing my posts!
Then Amy spoke to me, and I thanked God, for putting in my life, such startling good-looking people, with the most beautiful of hearts. I mean, beginning at home, my mother looks like that.
Without filter, without any surgical enhancements, and without hair dye.
My brother and cousins look like that.
And like that.
Oh my nephew who just turned two? Heartbreaker.
I have many nephews.
While sitting in art history class, a flurry of texts from across the world- Mother in New Zealand, Cousins in Singapore. My phone buzzed busily away.
“Mystery speaking through mysteries. Isn’t that meaning?”- Wassily Kandinsky.
Oh, Kandinsky- I do think your work is incredible, but there’s no mystery here. It’s Popo’s 99th birthday, and for the very first time in all our lives, she is simply, no longer here.
Walking in the rain, I wondered if the first year of loss is hardest. I wonder where we will be next October.
I get on Bus 88 towards the Tate Britain for my afternoon class. Will we cherish even more, the living? Will we as a family splintered and united in grief, feel less sorrow, and more joy when it is Chinese New Year, her birthday, Chinese New Year, her birthday again?
Bus 88 slips, slides, stops. My body is weightless, flung violently across. For a moment, as with previous timeS, there is a brief pause, mid-air. It almost feels like, flight.
I have been in too many accidents and falls, to know, what it’s like to hover between death and life. How in one second, your life can change, forever.
Nothing is broken, thank God, thank God.
Are you alive? An English voice, incredulous.
My stomach, my ribs, my knees. My neck.
My heart, bruising.
Do not weep at Trafalgar Square!!!
back to Cheviot Hill…
Today as I face another huge challenge in my life,
I wish you were still here to listen to my complaints, my fears, and give me your wisdom.
I miss you, Popo. Happy Birthday.
- Photographs of Amy, Chandran and Jimmy T, belong to them respectively.