Things I Like.

I look back at the writings of my life and I realize a couple of things. I’ve seen enough, and honestly, I’m a little satiated. I’m not sure if it came through the passing of my mother, but I’m okay with going slow. I’ve always loved love. It’s apparent in the dissatisfaction of my past relationships. The want for understanding, to be on the same page. I’ve forced a lot of square pegs into a round hole. I’m sitting now in a new space and new town re-reading my old entries and realizing how much time I’ve spent feeling not enough. I’m realizing that I’m holding that impossible standard for myself.

I’m 29. I’ve written and written since I was young. I’ve yearned for life, and honestly, I’ve lived it. I’m proud of what my life has been accounted to at this point...in the macro-level. I’m not sure if I’m more or less self-aware as I was younger, or really, if I’m just slightly better at pattern recognition within myself.

These days, I stay at a screen pleasing clients. I have co-workers who doubt me and I doubt myself at times. I find this job to be like my relationships. A square peg in a round hole, but it’s okay. I understand the process is slow, and I’m in no rush to change things until I’m ready. Maybe instead of going slow, what I’m really doing is listening to myself and respecting my thoughts.

When I close my eyes and I think about my life and my path, I can see the rivers easing through the landscape. “I’m lost.” I say over and over and over again, constantly searching for stability while yearning for adventure. It’s only with hindsight that I realize that I was never lost, but I was wandering and soaking up experiences wherever I could get it. Ebbing between feeling lost and being found. I’m older now and I believe that in this moment, surrounded by the sun, flora, and friends, I have been found. 

I’ve gone through three deaths in the past 2 years. In March of 2017, my grandmother, the matriarch and glue of the family passed away in her sleep. It was 3AM and she went quietly next to grandpa. I wheeled her casket in next to all the men in our family. We ate dim sum together and I watched as Lesley submitted her last paper for her masters after the funeral. It was the first break of the family who I’ve known all my life. It was heartbreaking, but we knew that it was her end of life and she was loved.

My mother passed. It cut a hole in me and shifted my thinking. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same person after that, but I’m grateful to her. She just wanted me to live a happy life. I lost a huge part of my life and my family will never be the same. 

My relationship ended. The longest relationship I’ve had, which could be due to the fact that I couldn’t fathom anymore change after my mother. I had tried to force our relationship so hard, I forgot that relationships shouldn’t have to be forced. 

I remember this one day we drove

I think we got some dim sum

and spent some time together

I drove us to the beach

you just needed to see it,

you didn’t need to get out.

I really wish you did though

place your toes in the sand

close your eyes

wish away the disease

When I called dad today,

I realized that we both have been avoiding each other

because of our pain

I broke down in tears because

I was afraid that Brian would be like Dad

who wasn’t a good father growing up

who was depressed and rarely happy

He cried because he realized he wasn’t a good father when I grew up

“We do our best,” he said.

and I accepted.

We cried over you.

Trying to get over your death

failing miserably.

We both tried to act cool

but you can hear our voices cracking.

I took out your tablet again

to see what you saw

to look at your photos

the ones you saved of me in chicago

I forgot that I missed you so much

i stood tonight, the month anniversary of your death, by the ice cold creek. a paper boat in my hand. I lit the candle in your honor…an effigy of sorts. I threw rose petals into the creek watching them swirl around in circles; neither moving to close, nor too far. The lantern boat floated down the river and came back to me. I took a stick and pushed it a little farther. As i watched it go, I saw the light…your light, grow dimmer and dimmer until like your life, like my heart, it went out. I think to myself, that you’d scoff at my ceremonious celebration of you, but you’d appreciate it none the less. Because you’d know that I love you and these ceremonies are the only way I know how to show it. I bought a book recently…because it was poems of Florida, because the cover was a holographic beauty. Only to receive it today of all days and find out it was about parental loss. I thought to myself, “what a story, what a coincidence.”

you made my father happy. without you as a counter, I fear that he’ll always be cranky and depressive. It hurts me, because I don’t want him to take me down, and I don’t have your sun to shine on me.

Sometimes I feel you, and it brings me happiness. Sometimes I feel you and it brings me grief. I saw your videos you started recording. You named my 2nd birthday, “Angela so cute 2nd birthday”

Knowing after all these years, you look at me with endearing eyes.

I remember before I left and you handed me a bracelet that I loved from your mother and you handed it to me.

We sat together holding hands silently crying. I wish I could come back and visit you at that time. I wish I could have stayed and not left. I wish I could have prevented your stroke.

Mom, I read your memos.

The ones where you said you were happy to see the sun shining. The one where you said you have a fever and you were scared. The one where you wanted years to live and how scared you were to die.

And then you died.

and I’ve been living in this empty sleeve of a house, without you, with my brother, with my grieving father.

I think I love who I’ve become. A little more confident, a little more careful, a little more humble, hopefully I am a good person. That’s all I really want. Or anyone else really. <3 

Signed,