It's been so long since I last blogged or blog-hopped. I thought to myself a while back that I probably wouldn't start blogging again, but this week I feel compelled to write again, because I've experienced a huge moment of shift and I need to record it somewhere so that I don't forget.
Shortly after my mom passed away out of the blue last February, I had a strange feeling in my chest/brain. You see, my mom has always been my bridge (communicator) between worlds. She was the one who kept me updated about my sibling and his life as well as our relatives. I suddenly had an image of a cut off phone line upward in my family tree (imagine it in 3D) and my phone line downward is dangling in the air as I have nobody to "call". No more direct connection upward, no direct connection downward ever. I didn't feel depressed, but it felt strange. Hollow. I felt like floating in the air, though it wasn't my intention to do so. I was uneasy, still in the process of figuring out the new configuration and how I felt about it.
Then after a while, images of all those people who had come before me in the vast family tree (whose names I don't even know, so they were simply imagined faces) flashed through my brain. And when family trees upon family trees upon family trees kept on branching or stopped branching, it wasn't hard to notice just how small (or even tiny) one life is when you think of all those histories. My lifetime is but a short breath in the vast ocean of life, and one important thing came across my mind when I thought of the rows and rows of people and family trees with cut off and dangling and connected phone lines. It's the realization that in the grand scheme of life, I'm connected to many people in my lifetime (including those I may never meet in real life, including those who may find my written texts long after I'm gone). Therefore, it's impossible for me to know whose lives I've touched and how meaningful one interaction can be. Heck, a meaningful encounter may also mean that some people learn from my mistakes. How can I possibly know whether some other people have learnt from my mistakes (unless they tell me directly, that is)? My point is that the more I think about meanings in life, the more impossible it is for me to pinpoint exactly what makes my life meaningful (especially since my job doesn't involve changing/saving the world and I don't have kids).
That moment made me feel free. I don't need to wonder about what makes my life meaningful since my life journey is so connected to so many people around the world (through this blog and other social media outlets as well). I just need to be me as authentically as I can be. With all my warts and all. That's it. I'm free to just be me. My life is meaningful enough as a teeny tiny drop in the huge ocean of life. I am enough. Funny how one moment of feeling disconnected can make me feel so much more connected that I ever felt in my life.
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Friday, July 26, 2019
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Post Mortem
One of the places I visited on my last travel was Highgate Cemetery. When I was there, I couldn't help thinking of all the texts or quotes written on the stones. I haven't noticed any additional texts on the gravestones here in this village, though I haven't really looked, either. Yet walking around Highgate Cemetery, which was filled with so many texts or quotes, made me think of how people choose them for their loved ones. Those texts range from "beloved by all" or "in loving memory" or "finally together again" or "he/she was much loved" or "at peace with God". My hopeless-romantic part love those different texts. :-)
My logic, though, is a different matter. I've given up any thought of how I'd like my body to be dealt with when I'm gone because it depends on who will be left behind and that person(s) left behind may not be anyone close to me because half of my family lives in Indo. That said, though, this tablet managed to reduce me to near tears as I was leaving the cemetery through the gift shop:
Anyway, here are some lovely quotes by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross (many more in the link below):
My logic, though, is a different matter. I've given up any thought of how I'd like my body to be dealt with when I'm gone because it depends on who will be left behind and that person(s) left behind may not be anyone close to me because half of my family lives in Indo. That said, though, this tablet managed to reduce me to near tears as I was leaving the cemetery through the gift shop:
Anyway, here are some lovely quotes by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross (many more in the link below):
“We run after values that, at death, become zero. At the end of your life, nobody asks you how many degrees you have, or how many mansions you built, or how many Rolls Royces you could afford. That’s what dying patients teach you.”
“People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.”
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Grief Connections
A dear friend of mine has just lost her husband on NY eve. It came as a shock, even though I knew he had been sick for a few years.
The other day I had a long text chat with her and it was uncanny how many similarities there were between her grief and my worst infertility grief. When I shared with her what happened during my worst moments (I had never shared these with her before), she said that now she understood what it felt like as she had felt it, too. And when I shared with her the other feelings I felt (anger, self-pity, jealousy, bitterness, guilt, etc.), she began to open up about those feelings, too. She said that she wouldn't wish this experience on her worst enemy and I told her that was exactly what I felt at one point in time.
Grief connections. If I hadn't experienced infertility, I wouldn't have understood this kind of experience and if she hadn't experienced this loss, she wouldn't have understood what I felt. Granted, the both of us wouldn't have wished to have this kind of connection in the first place, but I'm thankful for this grief connection. This is one of those moments when I believe with my whole being that my pain isn't for nothing and I dare say that my pain is worth it.
Rest in peace, dear friend...
The other day I had a long text chat with her and it was uncanny how many similarities there were between her grief and my worst infertility grief. When I shared with her what happened during my worst moments (I had never shared these with her before), she said that now she understood what it felt like as she had felt it, too. And when I shared with her the other feelings I felt (anger, self-pity, jealousy, bitterness, guilt, etc.), she began to open up about those feelings, too. She said that she wouldn't wish this experience on her worst enemy and I told her that was exactly what I felt at one point in time.
Grief connections. If I hadn't experienced infertility, I wouldn't have understood this kind of experience and if she hadn't experienced this loss, she wouldn't have understood what I felt. Granted, the both of us wouldn't have wished to have this kind of connection in the first place, but I'm thankful for this grief connection. This is one of those moments when I believe with my whole being that my pain isn't for nothing and I dare say that my pain is worth it.
Rest in peace, dear friend...
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Waiver, The Childless Community, and Death
1. The Waiver.
A few months ago I wrote about signing a waiver in Indo, but after talking to some lawyers, I decided to postpone it. Considering the fact that the laws can change and everything can be so chaotic in Indo, I didn't like the idea of the possibility of having to pay twice to sign a waiver in case the law changes in the future and I have to sign a new waiver. So that has to be on hold, but I heard that in my aunt's case, it was possible for her to sign a waiver in her new country of residence, got it translated to Indonesian, and then have it sent to Indonesia. So that's also another option, but I'll deal with that when the time comes.
2. Voicing The Childless Community.
Prior to our trip, I had a chance to meet up the locals here along with some other expats to voice our needs so that they knew what more they could do to help new expats integrate better into society.
At one stage of the discussion, I chose a group that talked about spare time activities (another group was about daycare/schooling, something I couldn't participate in) and I had my opportunity to voice the childless community in general. I told them that as a childless person, it was hard for me to find friends and events that I could join that would enable me to find new friends. I didn't add the part that I was an introvert, but it seemed that they got the gist.
I was a bit worried of how the other people in the group would take my POV, but I was glad that they were positive about it. In fact, as I was discussing my problems of integrating into society and making new friends as a childless person, the event leader came by and she actually said, "Oh yes, a mother once told me that it was easier for mothers to meet up other mothers and arrange play dates and stuff like that because of their children. Plus there are many other social activities/events directed for those who have kids. This is a good discussion, keep talking about it!"
I was nicely surprised to hear that a mother actually said that to her. It was nice to feel heard, even though I was seriously anxious to share my stance as a minority. I think my voice trembled in the beginning, but it got steadier afterwards.
Growing up as a minority in my home country didn't really help me learn to open up about my needs or demand anything from the government. Instead, fearing for the security of my family and my fellow minority group made me learn how to lay low and not rock the boat as best as I could, even if I was right. God knows what has happened to a minority like us in the past who was targeted by some crooked individuals.
Infertility has taught me to be more open and to express my needs in a preferably effective way. First to my close friends, then to other people in general via FB, then to my family to let them know clearly what kind of support I needed. Practise makes perfect, eh? What really helped me to open up during that local event was also the knowledge that there was a group of women out there who got me and would be my soft landing in case the real world failed me. They're the wind beneath my wings. A working support group really helps one flourish in ways that one can't do on one's own.
3. Death.
Went to visit FIL's grave the other day because the headstone had just been delivered a few days ago. Death can be a pretty expensive affair. I told hubby that if I died first, I didn't want anything fancy and that I wanted it to be as practical and cheap as could be (I didn't want him to feel burdened to do anything fancy after my death). He shushed me, but at least I had gotten my point across juuuuusst in case.
Then I said, "Yeah, I know you don't like listening to this kind of talk, so let's just die together, OK?"
He agreed to that. :-D
One funny realization when I started thinking of the topic of death: if I'm old and alone and I die alone somewhere and other people find my body only much later, I've made peace with that possibility. I don't find it sad anymore even if I have no grave and nobody remembers me after I'm gone. It's kinda nice and freeing to feel this way. :-)
A few months ago I wrote about signing a waiver in Indo, but after talking to some lawyers, I decided to postpone it. Considering the fact that the laws can change and everything can be so chaotic in Indo, I didn't like the idea of the possibility of having to pay twice to sign a waiver in case the law changes in the future and I have to sign a new waiver. So that has to be on hold, but I heard that in my aunt's case, it was possible for her to sign a waiver in her new country of residence, got it translated to Indonesian, and then have it sent to Indonesia. So that's also another option, but I'll deal with that when the time comes.
2. Voicing The Childless Community.
Prior to our trip, I had a chance to meet up the locals here along with some other expats to voice our needs so that they knew what more they could do to help new expats integrate better into society.
At one stage of the discussion, I chose a group that talked about spare time activities (another group was about daycare/schooling, something I couldn't participate in) and I had my opportunity to voice the childless community in general. I told them that as a childless person, it was hard for me to find friends and events that I could join that would enable me to find new friends. I didn't add the part that I was an introvert, but it seemed that they got the gist.
I was a bit worried of how the other people in the group would take my POV, but I was glad that they were positive about it. In fact, as I was discussing my problems of integrating into society and making new friends as a childless person, the event leader came by and she actually said, "Oh yes, a mother once told me that it was easier for mothers to meet up other mothers and arrange play dates and stuff like that because of their children. Plus there are many other social activities/events directed for those who have kids. This is a good discussion, keep talking about it!"
I was nicely surprised to hear that a mother actually said that to her. It was nice to feel heard, even though I was seriously anxious to share my stance as a minority. I think my voice trembled in the beginning, but it got steadier afterwards.
Growing up as a minority in my home country didn't really help me learn to open up about my needs or demand anything from the government. Instead, fearing for the security of my family and my fellow minority group made me learn how to lay low and not rock the boat as best as I could, even if I was right. God knows what has happened to a minority like us in the past who was targeted by some crooked individuals.
Infertility has taught me to be more open and to express my needs in a preferably effective way. First to my close friends, then to other people in general via FB, then to my family to let them know clearly what kind of support I needed. Practise makes perfect, eh? What really helped me to open up during that local event was also the knowledge that there was a group of women out there who got me and would be my soft landing in case the real world failed me. They're the wind beneath my wings. A working support group really helps one flourish in ways that one can't do on one's own.
3. Death.
Went to visit FIL's grave the other day because the headstone had just been delivered a few days ago. Death can be a pretty expensive affair. I told hubby that if I died first, I didn't want anything fancy and that I wanted it to be as practical and cheap as could be (I didn't want him to feel burdened to do anything fancy after my death). He shushed me, but at least I had gotten my point across juuuuusst in case.
Then I said, "Yeah, I know you don't like listening to this kind of talk, so let's just die together, OK?"
He agreed to that. :-D
One funny realization when I started thinking of the topic of death: if I'm old and alone and I die alone somewhere and other people find my body only much later, I've made peace with that possibility. I don't find it sad anymore even if I have no grave and nobody remembers me after I'm gone. It's kinda nice and freeing to feel this way. :-)
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Funeral in Mind
Last Friday was FIL's funeral. My very first experience in Finland. It was a lovely funeral as well as memorial service attended by close relatives. I found that the memorial service was very emotional. I didn't really have time to be too emotional before that 'coz I was the designated photographer.
FIL's recent passing brings my own mortality to the front and centre part of my brain. When I accompanied MIL (along with BIL) to choose the plot of land at the cemetery, I was a bit surprised to see that MIL was rather particular in choosing where she wanted to "lay down" with FIL (apparently you can also book the plot ahead of time for yourself and your partner and decide which side you want to choose for your own plot), but I suppose when you think about it, it makes sense 'coz she knows there are people from the next generations who will be visiting the grave (or their graves) later on. So they will be able to pay respect to FIL (and to MIL later on) by planting flowers there etc.
While trying to find out about the funeral custom here in Finland before my FIL's funeral, I found a woman's blog in Finnish. In one blog post, she wrote a list about her wishes when it came to her funeral arrangement. She was very specific about many things, including the song choices for the funeral, whether or not they should put her obituary in the newspaper, etc. That again made me think...she could afford to be specific because she was confident that there were others who would respect her wishes and make sure that her wishes come true.
It makes me wonder who'll be here "for me" when my time comes. If I should die as a very old woman and if that means that all the other close family members here (including hubby) have gone before me, the only people left would be our two nephews, but then again I'm not really close to them and they live far from here, but I suppose the government will contact them 'coz they're the only relatives left here in Finland and they're the ones who'll have to sort things out (including sorting out my valuables etc.).
However, when it comes to my own death, I don't really have any specific requests. If whoever is going to take care of my body wants to bury me or cremate me, that's fine with me. Although it'd be nice to have an intimate memorial service for me, but I'm not sure if it can happen considering the fact that I have many more online friends (including my close friends) and my own family members from Indo live far away from here.
But bottom line is that I would like a most practical arrangements for myself after my death. And if I could have one request, it's that everybody who knows me in life should wear colourful clothes instead of wearing black. I want my death to remind them of the preciousness of life. But anyway, for the time being, let's just cherish each day we're still given...
P.S. I'd love to talk about this with hubby but I think I'm gonna wait a while 'coz it must still be too raw for him...
glitter-graphics.com
FIL's recent passing brings my own mortality to the front and centre part of my brain. When I accompanied MIL (along with BIL) to choose the plot of land at the cemetery, I was a bit surprised to see that MIL was rather particular in choosing where she wanted to "lay down" with FIL (apparently you can also book the plot ahead of time for yourself and your partner and decide which side you want to choose for your own plot), but I suppose when you think about it, it makes sense 'coz she knows there are people from the next generations who will be visiting the grave (or their graves) later on. So they will be able to pay respect to FIL (and to MIL later on) by planting flowers there etc.
While trying to find out about the funeral custom here in Finland before my FIL's funeral, I found a woman's blog in Finnish. In one blog post, she wrote a list about her wishes when it came to her funeral arrangement. She was very specific about many things, including the song choices for the funeral, whether or not they should put her obituary in the newspaper, etc. That again made me think...she could afford to be specific because she was confident that there were others who would respect her wishes and make sure that her wishes come true.
It makes me wonder who'll be here "for me" when my time comes. If I should die as a very old woman and if that means that all the other close family members here (including hubby) have gone before me, the only people left would be our two nephews, but then again I'm not really close to them and they live far from here, but I suppose the government will contact them 'coz they're the only relatives left here in Finland and they're the ones who'll have to sort things out (including sorting out my valuables etc.).
However, when it comes to my own death, I don't really have any specific requests. If whoever is going to take care of my body wants to bury me or cremate me, that's fine with me. Although it'd be nice to have an intimate memorial service for me, but I'm not sure if it can happen considering the fact that I have many more online friends (including my close friends) and my own family members from Indo live far away from here.
But bottom line is that I would like a most practical arrangements for myself after my death. And if I could have one request, it's that everybody who knows me in life should wear colourful clothes instead of wearing black. I want my death to remind them of the preciousness of life. But anyway, for the time being, let's just cherish each day we're still given...
P.S. I'd love to talk about this with hubby but I think I'm gonna wait a while 'coz it must still be too raw for him...
glitter-graphics.com
Friday, March 15, 2013
Life vs Death
After reading this post and Mali's comment, I began to think of my own experiences.
Here is what Mali wrote:
"Yes – I find that some pregnancies hurt, and some don’t bother me at all. And it’s not always the way I expect it – pregnancy announcements I thought would be painful were not, and those I thought I’d breeze through hit hard, and yes, hurt."
I can totally relate to that, because in the past there were some announcements*** that didn't really affect me much, but there were some that unexpectedly just made me "double over in pain". I wondered what made me do that, because I was happy for the one(s) who shared the good news.
Additional note: I think the announcements may not just be limited to pregnancy announcements, but also milestones (a child's graduation, a child's wedding day, a friend's announcing that he/she's gonna be a grandparent, etc.) - but whatever the announcement is, it's the celebration of life.
In the beginning when we were still TTC I felt totally jealous/envious because I still wished I could have my own babies, but nowadays (when we're no longer expecting children in our future) it's more like their "life" news (the news about the new life that will be brought to earth) reminds me of "death". The death of our dream. Some "life" news stories hit hard because all of a sudden I can see the remnants of our dead dream right in front of me and that's not something I wish to see, but I can't deny what I see on those occasions and so I have to deal with the loss all over again (letting it go once more) so that I can continue to move on with my life (not just stopping/standing on the spot while staring at those remnants).
It's probably the opposite of some news of death that reminds us how precious our life is. Some news of death can be so staggering and jarring that they just stop us in our track to remind us of the most important things on earth. Some news of death reminds us of the fragility of life so much so that it may even shift/change our perspective and goals.
Now I begin to understand more why "total healing" is impossible for someone like me because of the life/death situation I mentioned here (just like it's impossible to "avoid" news of death), but then again if learning to let go over and over again will help me get even better in that area (read: making it easier for me to let go of things I can't change/get in the future), then so be it!
glitter-graphics.com
Additional note (added on Sat, March 16-03-2013): I just want anyone who read this post to know that I did NOT write this post from a place of pain. It was my effort in trying to think logically as to why some pain may still appear in the future despite the fact that we've given up on kids. I want to be realistic. I want to figure out what I felt and why I felt a certain way and what has changed in the way I think/feel about things.
There has been A LOT of healing in my world after infertility and as what Mali and Wolfers said below in the comment section, the pain is MUCH less than before as time goes by (and as I learn more and more to let go over and over and over again - I think even if so much time passes by, if we don't learn to let go over and over again, it still won't bring more and more healing) and nowadays I experience less tumultuous/chaotic whirlwind of emotions compared to what I had experience in the past when I was still harboring some hope of becoming pregnant.
Here is what Mali wrote:
"Yes – I find that some pregnancies hurt, and some don’t bother me at all. And it’s not always the way I expect it – pregnancy announcements I thought would be painful were not, and those I thought I’d breeze through hit hard, and yes, hurt."
I can totally relate to that, because in the past there were some announcements*** that didn't really affect me much, but there were some that unexpectedly just made me "double over in pain". I wondered what made me do that, because I was happy for the one(s) who shared the good news.
Additional note: I think the announcements may not just be limited to pregnancy announcements, but also milestones (a child's graduation, a child's wedding day, a friend's announcing that he/she's gonna be a grandparent, etc.) - but whatever the announcement is, it's the celebration of life.
In the beginning when we were still TTC I felt totally jealous/envious because I still wished I could have my own babies, but nowadays (when we're no longer expecting children in our future) it's more like their "life" news (the news about the new life that will be brought to earth) reminds me of "death". The death of our dream. Some "life" news stories hit hard because all of a sudden I can see the remnants of our dead dream right in front of me and that's not something I wish to see, but I can't deny what I see on those occasions and so I have to deal with the loss all over again (letting it go once more) so that I can continue to move on with my life (not just stopping/standing on the spot while staring at those remnants).
It's probably the opposite of some news of death that reminds us how precious our life is. Some news of death can be so staggering and jarring that they just stop us in our track to remind us of the most important things on earth. Some news of death reminds us of the fragility of life so much so that it may even shift/change our perspective and goals.
Now I begin to understand more why "total healing" is impossible for someone like me because of the life/death situation I mentioned here (just like it's impossible to "avoid" news of death), but then again if learning to let go over and over again will help me get even better in that area (read: making it easier for me to let go of things I can't change/get in the future), then so be it!
glitter-graphics.com
Additional note (added on Sat, March 16-03-2013): I just want anyone who read this post to know that I did NOT write this post from a place of pain. It was my effort in trying to think logically as to why some pain may still appear in the future despite the fact that we've given up on kids. I want to be realistic. I want to figure out what I felt and why I felt a certain way and what has changed in the way I think/feel about things.
There has been A LOT of healing in my world after infertility and as what Mali and Wolfers said below in the comment section, the pain is MUCH less than before as time goes by (and as I learn more and more to let go over and over and over again - I think even if so much time passes by, if we don't learn to let go over and over again, it still won't bring more and more healing) and nowadays I experience less tumultuous/chaotic whirlwind of emotions compared to what I had experience in the past when I was still harboring some hope of becoming pregnant.
Friday, February 8, 2013
Escapism
January was a tough month. Amongst the happy baby birth/pregnancy announcements, there were two deaths as well as plenty of health concerns. My heart felt heavy, esp. with worry 'coz my friends' health concerns aren't confirmed yet. Waiting for the proper diagnoses isn't fun at all.
An ex-school friend had a sudden attack of asthma that took her life. She was going to get married this month. Can't imagine how the groom-to-be must be feeling (her parents had died years back). :-(
A cousin's hubby died of a heart attack. They got married the same year we did.
Facebook has also bombarded me with lots of invitations to join this and that cause. Sometimes life feels SO darn simple, yet sometimes it feels WAY too complicated and heavy. One of the things I do to "escape" from all the heavy stuff is reading Japanese manga or looking at cute animal pics.***
I'm glad January has ended. Currently I'm enjoying reading this manga based on a real life thread. This kind of manga gives me hope in mankind and it's also very funny. :-D Besides, this manga reminds me of our long distance relationship, so I cried and laughed along with the character. Ahhh...love reading stories like this! :-D
glitter-graphics.com
*** Reading manga or looking at cute animal pics isn't without its own risks. Some days it's tough to see a "typical happy ending with babies involved" and some days it's tough to read the captions on animal pics that focus on "motherhood/parenthood". Other days, though, I'm fine with them. :-)
An ex-school friend had a sudden attack of asthma that took her life. She was going to get married this month. Can't imagine how the groom-to-be must be feeling (her parents had died years back). :-(
A cousin's hubby died of a heart attack. They got married the same year we did.
Facebook has also bombarded me with lots of invitations to join this and that cause. Sometimes life feels SO darn simple, yet sometimes it feels WAY too complicated and heavy. One of the things I do to "escape" from all the heavy stuff is reading Japanese manga or looking at cute animal pics.***
I'm glad January has ended. Currently I'm enjoying reading this manga based on a real life thread. This kind of manga gives me hope in mankind and it's also very funny. :-D Besides, this manga reminds me of our long distance relationship, so I cried and laughed along with the character. Ahhh...love reading stories like this! :-D
glitter-graphics.com
*** Reading manga or looking at cute animal pics isn't without its own risks. Some days it's tough to see a "typical happy ending with babies involved" and some days it's tough to read the captions on animal pics that focus on "motherhood/parenthood". Other days, though, I'm fine with them. :-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)