Tag: Reflection

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Karma

Mom was admitted to the hospital one week before Christmas. Although there were never any prior symptoms, she was diagnosed with final stage of cancer. Considering her age, and her deteriorating mental faculties, we decided not to put her through any aggressive treatments. I went home on Christmas Day to be with my family.

Robert and I took turn staying with mom overnight. Early on Saturday morning, after a good night’s sleep at home, I rushed back to the hospital. When I arrived, the entrance lobby, usually packed with patients, visitors and volunteers, was almost empty. An elderly Western gentleman was standing by the wheelchair lift in the vestibule. Frail and alone, he also seemed afflicted.

I approached him. He said that he needed a wheelchair. I got one from the service station. A young person helped him with a few steps up to the lobby. He tried really hard to communicate with me in poor Mandarin. Having a hard time understanding him, I asked him to speak English with me instead and to direct me to where he needed to go.

I told him that I lived in Manhattan. He said that he was from Long Island—Great Neck to be exact. Then, he asked if I was a Yankee or a Met fan. I replied that I would be happy to cheer for either side. By the time we reached the admission desk at the chemotherapy clinic, I had learned that this kind man was a Catholic priest and had lived in Taiwan for over fifty years.

Since it was my first time at the clinic, I was very clumsy with the sign-in procedure. The nurses also had some difficulties communicating with him regarding the appointment, never mind all his documents and prescribed medicines. Suddenly, he broke into perfect Taiwanese. Problem solved!

If, initially, he had spoken with me in Taiwanese, we would never have found out as much about each other: I would simply be a friendly stranger and he would simply be an elderly foreigner needing assistance. One of nurses gave me a big smile when she realized that I was a total stranger. As we wished each other best of luck, he said that I was an angel. I told him that our encounter was good karma for both of us.

It has been four weeks since our chance encounter. I keep the gentleman and his health in my thoughts. On the first day of the Year of the Rat, I wish to share the good karma with more people. May it be a long lasting one.

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Marshlands

This entry is part 1 of 2 in the series Marsh

With the proximity to two international airports and seaports, northeastern New Jersey is crowded with rail yards, shipping terminals, and industrial complexes. The sceneries alongside the main arteries, namely NJ Turnpike and the rail lines, are harsh and disorderly. Coexisting yet contrasting to this man-made chaos were vast wetlands, alongside Hackensack and Passaic Rivers, as well as the ocean shores.[1] Pleasant to the eyes, these marshes are also important habitats for fish, amphibians, and migrating birds.

In summertime, reeds and shrubs extend thick carpets from higher grounds into the water, soft and moist. On sunny days, their deep green color, shiny and vibrant, makes the river seemingly cooler. Geese, swans, and ducks float leisurely on the open water, diving swiftly from time to time for their catches. Turtles line up on top of deadwood sunbathing. Egrets rest low among the reeds or high on some branches, like spontaneous polka dots on an impressionist painting.

Later in the season, reed flowers will take over the palette, first adding reddish brown on top of jade green, then gradually turning tan and, finally, ashy grey. Under autumn sun, their silky brushes wave in celebratory golden hues. They spread out inviting soft beds for south-bound birds on their international journeys. Even after the unavoidable winter freeze, they strive to stand tall and make their marks.

風蕭蕭兮易水寒

As a child, I read about the melancholy beauty of reed flowers in Chinese poetry. Although there were tall weeds with feathery flowers in Taiwan, I was told that true reeds didn’t grow on the island. I always dreamt of seeing them someday. Now, having watched them repeating their growing cycles, year after year, I am still fascinated by them.

Similarly, I am captivated by marshlands. To me, their vastness embodies unrestrainable spirits. Yet, at the same time, under the cover of thick vegetation, they harbor so many mysteries. Watching the tides rise and fall on the marshes, I always wonder how far the saltwater reaches inland and where the freshwater ends. Having been caught between cultures for most of my life, I always want to know if some fish are living happily in brackish water.

[1] New_Jersey_Meadowlands Wiki,
Environmental-effects-shore-protection: Raritan-Bay-Meadowlands.pdf