05/18/09
What is life? What is life for? We set out at various ages to explore and to confine the meanings and purposes of life. The longest journey sometimes leads us back to where it began. I do not pretend to have any answer. Perhaps, answers are hidden underneath a series of varied experiences.
Thanks to God, I finally made it to the nursing home and spent some time with the elderly. We sang some hymns, and chatted with those who were able to interact. The first lady I introduced myself to attempted to make sentences. Unfortunately, I was only able to make out a few sylalbles such as “tough” & “day.” Tears in her eyes, but I could not understand her sentence failing to catch her name if she ever made it. I gently wiped her eyes with a clean tissue and gave her hugs and she held my hands warmly in return. Body language, the universal language, I thought.
“Hi, I am Tao. It's very nice to meet you,” with a brief intro, I fetched his, “What's your name?” After a few inquiries and tries, I heard, “Ray.” “Is Ray your name?” He nodded. “How are you?” I did not realize how stupid the question sounded untile I heard it. Ray repeated my question with a slightly sarcastic smile. Somewhere in the conversation, Ray said, “I am ready to go. I am just waiting,” making a small circle pointing at other residents with his index finger, he continued, “We are all waiting.” My heart plumbed. What could I say or do to make him feel better? Indeed, he and his neighbors were waiting upon the Lord. Nothing I could have done or do for them, but continued to pray for each of them. He hugged me. I patted him on his shoulders which were rigidly crooked. He repeated, “I am ready.” I blessed him.
Ron did not appear to want to have any conversation. He stared into the air in front of him. “Can I say a quick prayer for you?” I did not know what else to say. He smiled and nodded. “You behave yourself.” “Pardon?” “It's a joke.” That's one of the toughest thing for me-- to make out what's funny in a common American joke.
Idria seemed to enjoy her company. Her smile revealed one bottom tooth. Her white curly hair shinned beside the window with the sun beams on the background. She had some lively conversation with us. Cathy was sitting beside her. Idria asked me and Cathy, “Are you sisters?” I smiled, leaning toward her left ear, “We are sisters in Christ.” “In Christ?” I nodded. We three laughed. She could not make out my name. “Tall?” At last, I said “yes.” “You have beautiful hair. I always want that color. It's pretty.” She looked at me. “She has beautiful teeth too,” she told Cathy. She mentioned twice her close friend who passed away last month with tears swirled in her eyes. I hugged her. She mentioned her seven sisters and two brothers. “Were you the baby?” “Yes, I was the youngest.” “I have five older sisters too! and I am the baby.” “It was not funny.” “Not funny being the youngest?” “I love them very much.” I understood what she meant. “Do you have any children?” Anotehr lady asked her. “One. Only one.” The conversation did not go further.
We sang a few more hymns. Idria sang along while she could. I occasionally lifted up my eyes from the lyrics and smiled at Ray. In the midst of the conversations and songs, I wonder, “What joy was left to them? Can we bring more joy or peace to them? Or our visit just cruely aggravated the fact that they were left here by themselves?” At the end of our visit, T (the coordinator) said, “Thank you for letting us come. We'll come back next month and hope you are still here by then.” I felt dreadful to hear “hope you are still here by then?” What if any of them left by next time we visit? I silently prayed, “God on high, if he/she is ready, take him/her home at your time. By that time arrives, may your peace and joy guard their hearts and mind.”
R and I grabbed an early lunch afterwards. Girls talk was what we had over lunch. How we came to Christ, our backgrounds, and our relationships with guys. In the afternoon, I went to Chinese School to finish the last class this semester. It was time for showcase. We saw modern versions of Three Piglets and Three Wolves. Kids and their teachers were talented and creative. I had a good time enjoying their shows. In the meantime, I pondered, “What a hope for the future? They are young, they are eager to show off and explore the world.” As I prayed for my niece and nephew, I prayed for these kids, “May you be never tired of this world. May the earth never stops surprising you.” One of the teachers was pregnant about eight months or so. People were excited to see her big belly and said blessings to her. A newborn was expected cheerfully.
I was unsure what to make out of the day. I saw death lingering; I saw hope shining; I saw myself in between knowing not how to feel. I did not know what God's plan for me. Yet I was confident. I did not wish to know it either. “Surprise me, dear Beloved.” I did not know where my next stop would be. I did not know whom to encounter next. Nevertheless, I very much liked to give thanks to God in whatever circumstances.
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