Raindrops: till death do us part 122413

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Every morning, an elderly man pushes his frail wife in a wheelchair around our block. I am usually in a hurry, leaving the house for errands, when they walk by. There is usually nothing more than an exchange of warm greetings.

Yesterday, the elderly man stopped and compliment our new car.

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“It’s a beautiful new car! I wish I had one!”

After a short second of lighthearted laughter, his next line made my heart stop.

“But I have this [wheelchair] to drive for the rest of my life.”

I am a sucker for all things romantic, cheesy, beautiful, cute, sweet, and corny, but even a misanthrope couldn’t help but feel slightly touched. I feel incredibly lucky to witness such a beautiful relationship. I can’t say that I’m not sad when I think about how many years they have left to love each other, but I have a childish glimmer of hope that there is some reality to the magical, everlasting love that we limit to fairy tales.

I sometimes wonder if a relationship like theirs would ever come my way. Among so many other things that are needed to make a relationship work, there is: patience, the correct timing, reciprocated feelings, the will to sacrifice for the other, and mutual understanding. And this has to be maintained over so many years. However, instead of thinking too much about the long term outcome of my relationships, I think it is better to take each day as they come. Being able to actively love and care for people, to see loved ones for another day, and to receive love, are often small miracles neglected by most until it’s too late. Let’s not wait too long “till death do us part.” ♥

Merry Christmas Eve~

Raindrops: disturbed. (Repost from my Tumblr 021611)

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disturbed.

After just finishing a mini tv series on human trafficking, I’m sick to my stomach and highly disturbed about the whole topic. I haven’t felt this anguished, indignant, frustrated, and powerless in a long time.. though my own feelings are nothing close to the pain and suffering of real victims. I can’t even begin to imagine what they go through. To have their hopes and dreams dashed, their past erased, their futures bleak, their present a living hell… it’s just too sad. In the past, I’ve often daydreamed about how it would be like to run away and live a different life. For trafficked victims, it’s a terrible reality.

“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy” Proverb 31:8

“The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing.” -Albert Einstein

♥http://www.humantrafficking.org/

♥http://www.unodc.org/blueheart/

♥http://www.polarisproject.org/what-we-do

♥http://www.ijm.org/

This is just one of the infinite problems and struggles that we have in our world today, which makes it even worse. Time to find any means of contributing to the cause, and join the fight.

Raindrops: floating across the water~ (Repost from my Tumblr 080810)

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(Photo by Michael Warwick)

Today, a friend and I planned to stop by the Ninth Annual SF Bay Area Peace Lantern Ceremony at the Berkeley Aquatic Park and have dinner together. On the way there, we missed our designated bus stop. The bus took us all the way to the Berkeley Marina and dropped us off by the ocean side, which made for an unexpected 10 minute seaside getaway.

The landscape was gloomy and dark, except for the small section of orange and yellow light running perpendicular to the horizon that contrasted with the grey and cloudy sky. While breathtaking, it actually seemed kind of ominous. As if the light of hope and happiness was slowly but surely slipping away…

Everything seemed really eerie... The pier seemed to stretch on forever and disappear into the ocean. The waves were especially strong and high. The large sundial at the entrance of the pier stood darkly without light shining upon it.

The ocean has always somewhat scared me. People getting lost at sea, drownings, submarine accidents, and the likes. If I had been alone, I probably would have broken down and cried. I keep connecting this particular visit to a recent nightmare, which might have skewed my brighter memory of it..

♥ ♥ ♥

We then took the bus back to our original destination and walked to the Aquatic Park for lantern ceremony. Here’s a short summary with some main points about the history of the event from an article:

The Berkeley ceremony is modeled after a Japanese tradition in which lighted paper lanterns are decorated and set adrift across a sea of water. The journey of the lantern across the water represents the journey of the individual soul moving towards peace in the afterlife.

At the ceremony, attendees will decorate lantern shades, or “soul ships”, with personal messages connected with their own vision of peace. Freedkin encourages children to decorate their lanterns with images that represent the type of world they want to create. “It’s a great way for them to start being in the habit of thinking of themselves as having a role in these issues,” said Freedkin. “Kids will draw fields and hills and rainbows and unicorns. It was great to see that.”

When we got there, a hundred or so lanterns were making their way across the same body of water that I had helped clean up a few months ago for community service. Watching the lanterns slowly make their way across the water was a beautiful sight. We followed the lanterns on their trip to the opposite side. One little boy was happy to see that his own lantern had reached the opposite bank. Many of the lanterns made by kids had drawings of random things, which was really cute. They made me smile.

The lantern ceremony commemorates the victims of war, calls for the end to nuclear warfare, and advocates world peace. It was a unique and meaningful event. Although I didn’t decorate my own lantern, I was happy that there were a lot of people that did.

♥ ♥ ♥

Raindrops: game. (Repost from my Tumblr 020710)

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When I sit next to a life sized chessboard and chess pieces, I have to wonder… can life be juxtaposed to such a game? Are we pawns and playing pieces that can think we are on top of the world, yet are only pieces affixed to a huge board game in the position of losing our place at any given moment? Why does life have to feel like a competition or a mindless race? Why is it so hard to get back into the game after we’ve lost? Why does it feel that we’re always getting played by this game of life? And most importantly… who is playing us?

Raindrops: Kiss the Rain (Repost from my Tumblr 072910)

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Umbrella

I remember a rainy day not too long ago when I was at my usual bus stop. An elderly man stood under the overhead of a gas station, finding a shelter from the rain. A minute later, he was standing in the rain without an umbrella. I shortened the distance that separated us, and offered my umbrella. He denied my offer and showed me his own umbrella, kept shut in his hand.

He told me something along the lines of,

“It nice to stand under the rain where there’s a pleasant drizzle. This kind of rain doesn’t happen too often. It feels really good, don’t you think? Thanks for your offer, you’re such a sweetheart.”

I then smiled and looked off into the distance, as if I was looking for the bus or watching cars splash into puddles.

I cannot help but think to this day that I missed an opportunity to have a great conversation with someone, like I always do. Silence is usually my own protective umbrella. Why am I so comforted by silence, I wonder?

He also made me question why we all hide from a little rain. Why do we distance ourselves from things that cannot hurt us, yet keep close in contact with things that do?

The next time you get a chance to just feel and enjoy the drizzle of rain, do it. I’ll do it with you. Unless it’s heavy rain. If that’s the case, hot cocoa in a cafe would be nice. Let’s not get sick. ♥

Raindrops: ∞ (Repost from my Tumblr 091510)

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I don’t like thinking about death. It kind of bugs me sometimes how death always intrigues me somehow, even when I don’t want it to. I, like most people, tend to be drawn to death in the news, feel solemn after hearing about a relative or friend’s death, or think very often about the fragility of my existence.

“I wonder what I could have done to prevent [this guy in the newspaper] from jumping if I knew him?”

“201 passengers died on that flight?!”

” ______ passed away.”

“Oh. Really?” I say after falling silent. I don’t like asking how they have suddenly died, but my mom usually continues on and tells me. A montage of memories then flies through my mind like a silent film.

“How much time do I have left?”

Too many thoughts focused on death, and not on life. But death always has a way of creeping up into the thoughts of the living…

—-

I spent time with my family at home about a month ago, before had school started up again. I was rumbling through official documents that my parents stored away, looking for my passport for my first trip without adult supervision or my family. I happened upon a very peculiar brochure. It was of a nearby memorial park/cemetery. An envelope with it consisted of a receipt and certificate for a plot of land at the cemetery, reserved for my grandmother.

It was like having a notice of her impending departure from this world slapped across my face. Like it was set in stone, that she would soon not be here…

The grandmother that has always been someone by my side. Hugging my tears away when I got into fights with my parents, picking me up from the bus stop or busing with me to and from school in San Francisco, cooking when my parents weren’t home and I had yet to pick up a spatula.

It took me a while to swallow up my emotions and hold back my tears. It was hard. I am used to crying at little things, let alone something like this. I was upset, but since we had a house of guests that day, including my grandmother, I let it blow by. Although I didn’t cry that time, tears naturally flow down as I’m writing this Tumblr post.

I definitely take this as a sign to cherish her more, to constantly pray that for many remaining years of life to come, she would have nothing but happiness in her life.

To not leave this post on such a sad note, let me share a recent tidbit from my family’s trip to Florida this summer (without me or my dad =’[ ) :

My grandmother proudly told me that she went on all the rollercoaster and thrill rides at Disneyworld and Universal Studios with my younger sisters and cousins. My mom and my aunts were too scared to ride them, but my grandmother, at the age of 81 years old, rode them like she was still enjoying the courage and playfulness that, for most, only compliment youth.

She goes to casinos with her elderly friends every week, travels by bus and walking every single day, and doesn’t let age change the way she’s lived life for over 80 years.

After this post, I will have to get back to reading for class tomorrow. My one wish is for her to outlive my remaining years in school and wait until she sees me as an adult, until she sees that all her years of raising me has not gone to waste, until I have more time to spend with her, not worrying about what I’m going to do with my life (at that point, in which, I’ll hopefully have a job that I love going to everyday.)

—-

Please wait for me. ^^

我爱你. ❤

Raindrops: Child Abuse

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The words “child” and “abuse” should never be put in the same phrase together. Can you really call yourself human if you make a child suffer, whether it is through bruises or emotional trauma? My mother didn’t always have the nicest child-rearing techniques, but at the end of the day, they helped me grow as a person. She knew the differences between discipline and outright torture. There’s a fine, fine line that should never be crossed. Children, unexposed to the darkness of the world at birth, should be raised in a loving and encouraging environment. I’ve read too many stories about child being abused and neglected. Some child are locked up in tiny sheds. Some never see the light. Some are malnourished and underweight. What is more sickening is when abused children end up dying from abuse or neglect. Maybe their fate was to save hundreds of lives as a doctors. Maybe their fate was to invent teleportation devices. Or campaign for presidency. But we’ll never know, will we? All we can thank them for is increasing awareness for child abuse and hoping that the story of their tragic lives will save other children before they take their final breaths many years too soon.