The day of, emptying out my wallet here, buying things that make me look, “pretty”, as I age…translated…
I’d looked after my mother for a whole of nine years, and in this time, other than taking her to the doctors’ office, returning to my own doctors’ visits, we’d rarely, traveled around. One day as I’d gone to the clinic sessions on my own, I saw a coat inside a display window opposite of the street, it was my favorite color, light yellow, with a tiny white daisy on it, I almost went in to purchase, but, I’d considered, that I don’t have that many opportunities to come out of the house, buying new clothes, doesn’t really, fit my, needs at all, and, something so pretty, radiant in color, doesn’t really, fit me either……after I’d struggled a bit, I’d, left quickly, not even, gone into the shop to look around.
like this…photo from online
I’d told mom about this as I’d arrived home, she’d asked, “why didn’t you buy the coat? I’d bought all your clothes from before, you were really not selective, whatever I bought, you’d, worn, but I knew you didn’t like it. Based off of my health conditions, I may not be able to go out to buy your clothes anymore, now I can’t even, nag you, when you see something you loved, just, buy it, and don’t wait, we don’t get that many, next times in life.”
After my mother passed away, on one of my return visits to the hospital, the couture shop set out a floral printed, fun sort of a blouse, and like I normally would, struggled a few seconds, then, suddenly, I’d recalled what my mother told me, and, got into the shop.
I’d rarely purchased my own clothing, and, in the shop, I saw, nothing but colors, blaring at me, but as the store owner helped me, I’d successfully, bought the clothes that look good on me, that I’d, liked, at the time, I had this feel of, “it’s all mine!”
And ever since, the days I returned to visit the doctor’s office, became the days of, opening up my wallet, I’d, often, “accidentally” brought home a few pieces. And the style that’s now in my closet, became the brighter colors, from my mother’s preferences of steady, and saturated colors. Although, I’m at the age of decluttering, but, so what if, I’m, “squandering” away, using the rest of my life, to live as my, true, self?
So, this is, a huge step for the woman, she’d, finally, gotten out of her, comfort zone, and started, purchasing the clothes that made her look “brighter”, and she’d become her own woman, as she aged into her, mature adulthood years now.
When is discipline discipline, and when will it be, abuse, and, how do we train our young to abide by the rules, in this day and age of, ZERO physical punishment? That is, the hardest thing that parents are learning right now…off of the Front Page Sections, translated…
Awhile ago, a technical high school in Hualien had a bullying case that made the news, a bully started smacking and slapping another student around, there was no other adults around, only the bystander students with their cell phone, taping, watching, with no one dare stopping the bully.
There’d been an influx of school bullying, it’d shown that the adolescents are straying, that their bad behaviors are becoming, more and more, socialized, this is “moblike”. And although, there were those who are against this sort of a label for teens, but, the gangs had infiltrated into the schools, the adolescents are getting more and more violent, this is, a fact currently.
back when this was still the way…from online
The instructors, due to the zero physical punishment policy, they’d become, timid in setting the misbehaving students right, which added to the increasing cases of bullying in school; by the same; due to the restrictions of the children and adolescent welfare laws, they’d not dared implore the physical punishments, which exacerbated to the children’s bad behaviors more.
A first year high school male, in a month’s of starting school, he’d been truant for more than one hundred periods, the father received the notice from school, and asked the son, the son talked back, the father started, beating on the son. The son felt upset over being beaten, sued the father for domestic violence, the courts gave the father three months, because of the heavier sentence for abuse of adolescents and children, there’s no way the adult can pay the fines and skip out of time served. And here’s the problem, would the son, due to his father’s given a prison sentence, never skip school again? Or, will he feel guilty, that he’d, caused his own father to get sent to prison? The parent worried that his young might get absorbed by the gangs, or started following the scamming means, become delivery pickup, and, he’d lifted a hand to hit his own son, and received a guilty verdict for assault charge, then, who will take over to discipline the children on behalf of the parents? The judge? Police? Who will be there, to CORRECT the misbehaviors of the children, to teach them, that they need to be responsible for their own, behaviors.
Certainly, the focal point of education should be based off of love, but, for the children who don’t behave in the right ways, if we can’t enforce the needed punishments, we can’t, stop them from continue to misbehave. It’s just, that the parents are, bound by the law, what are they, to do?
and now…photo from online
There’s the trends of the scam artists, the violent criminals getting younger and younger each and every year, which showed, that if we don’t straighten the children out when they began misbehaving, and punishing them after they did something bad, it would be, too, late.
And so, this is, the result of the ZERO physical punishment law to teach the students right from wrong, and, there’s sometimes the need for the slap on the wrists, to TEACH the younger children right from wrong, besides, they are still young, and, they will, associate the pains from being smacked with their bad behaviors, and then, to avoid the pains of getting smacked, they are going to, NOT do that bad behavior, that’s the most basic of behaviorism, and yet, the government banned the parents from physically disciplining their young, because we are more advanced, we care for children’s rights in this country…
Call this, the, evolution of a, broken, heart if you will…
I don’t feel, guilty, NOT as I imagined that I would…
I don’t feel, guilty, because, I don’t have that feeling STUCK, in the place where my heart used to be (still THE Tin Man here???), I don’t feel, anything at all, in fact.
what it was like for me…photo from online
I don’t feel, guilty, for leaving, THIS life I used to know, behind, besides, this was, my OLD life, and I’d, begun, anew now, so, no guilt there.
I don’t feel, guilty, because I’d run out of that, feeling, since those, crocodile tears, stopped, working THEIR magic on me, and, no one will, EVER, control me with her/his, tears again!
I don’t feel, guilty, I can’t feel guilty, because, I’d become, immune from that particular oldest, TRICK in the book you’d, implored to, control me.
and now…breaking those, chains…photo from online
I don’t feel, guilty, like I used to, feel, so awful, when I see those living in poverty, those who’d lost their, limbs, the beggars, covered up in the dirt, crawling on the streets, begging for a, handout.
Maybe, I don’t feel guilty, because I’d become, completely, without, a heart, who knows???
Getting the FLU WAS, like HELL! And this man, experienced it, personally, to its, full, extent too, and he’d come back, after, walking through the fires of that hell…translated…
Because I’d, Long Observed How My Body Works, I’d Lost the Victimizing Thoughts of “Catching Something from Someone”. Every Time the Signs of a Cold Coming on, I’d, Understood, that I’d, “Asked for it”……….
Fallen Ill, for More than, Two WHOLE, Weeks
“Have you recovered yet?”, the first day I’d returned back to the office, my coworker, A asked me.
“Yes, I’m recovered, thanks for your, concern”, I’d smiled bitterly.
Having just recovered from his flu recently, he’d asked, “painful, wasn’t it? Like traveling through, hell!”
Two weeks ago, my coworkers started catching the flu one by one, and didn’t show up for work, including A, with whom I’m currently sharing this, conversation, with. I was alerted, started keeping my mask on in my office at work. But, my body started, feeling, strained, headache, drowsiness, and finally, I’d still, fallen, down, lying in bed, I’d felt the cold chills, and that very night, I had a, fever. “Must have caught it from someone at work!,” my family deducted.
illustration from UDN.com
I knew, that my age and my systems at this point in time, if I’d, forced myself a little bit more, to pull the all-nighters because work required me to, then, I’d, started, feeling it from by physical health, and started showing signs of a cold, forcing me to take a couple of days off. The debts owed to my body, it’d, come back to claim them immediately. Because I’d been made aware of how my system works, I’d dissed the belief of “caught that from someone”, this sort of the mindset of being, “victimized”, and every time the signs of a cold started coming up, I’d already, known, that it was, caused by, my own, self.
I’m not flustered, not worried, as cold would come and frequent me often, we’d become, more than, acquainted with one another already. By the third day as the fever continued, I’d felt, that it’s about time that the fever subsided, had my family made me some porridge, to chase away the chills, then, headed out to see the doctor, to get my symptoms confirmed. The physician said I contracted the “Type-B flu”, and he’d prescribe me some Tamiflu, thought, that I only needed to, rest up. What I’d not expected was that I was ill, for more than, two whole, weeks,
I’d never had this long an illness, I’d, tried to stay positive about my recovery abilities, made sure I stayed, warm, observed the changes in my systems carefully, getting enough vitamins and the cough meds in. But, the time I’d stayed in bed due to my flu was, too long, and, every evening when it came time for me to sleep, I’d started, coughing too hard I couldn’t, sleep, a wink. With the hopes of getting up in the morn, and finally going to work, but I’d not gotten, any better, yet, and, my own plans of work, got halted, and my wife became the one being responsible to care for the kids after school. I was so eager, to return back to my normal routines, and yet, the stuffiness of my chest, I’d, coughed too hard for.
My coworker, A told, that getting the flu was like, going to HELL. I’m certain, that he must’ve had his share of, difficult times with the flu too.
In the Torturous Hell, There’s Definitely the Endless, Coughing
There’s the beliefs of hell in most religions. Some Christians believed, when Judgment Day comes, the sinners will enter into hell to get tortured by the fires; the Islamic belief translates hell as “inferno”. In the beliefs of Buddhism, there’s the three realms of the world. And, although there is the karma of the three realms, the differences of joys and trials, but we hadn’t, surpassed the karmic cycles yet. A Sutra mentioned, “the unsettled three realms, is like a mansion of fires, filled with the world’s trials”. There’s also, the images of fires in that.
stuffy nose, coughing through the night…coupled with a fever too! Photo from online
What’s interesting is, in the meditative cultures of India, tapas also has the meanings of “disciplines”, and “trials by fire” assigned to it. Mediation is a path to walk the fires, burning up one’s own karmas, tossing one’s own desires, and selfishness to the fire. You can call it “sin” if you want to, “karma” if you want, those who’d not been enlightened yet, headed to everyplace that’s filled with the fires, that sounds, reasonable.
But, compared to the fires of hell, the inferno, the underworld in Norse mythology is comparatively, freezing. The imaginations of hell, is different because of culture. And if catching the flu is like walking through hell, then, the tortures of hell as I’d imagined, would be filled with endless coughing, and, the burst of my expectations of getting better, in that, vicious, cycle.
The American drama, “The Good Place” is one of my favorite shows, using a comedic way to discuss the afterlife, helping people redefine the standards of who is admitted to heaven, who’s sent to, hell. The architect of hell, Michael, believed that hell being physical torture is way too old-schooled, and he’d proposed an innovation, torturing the hearts, and the spirits. He’d based every character’s personalities, awareness, and habits, and devised up the hells for them each individually, to make them reexperience what they were dealing with when they were, still, living.
If the concept of hell is to teach people to do no evil, to do everything that’s good, then, there’s nothing more hellish than this feel of my body, burning from, within. Thinking back to the days of my catching the flu, there’s not much difference in the experiences of my own body, but my mind, my thoughts, flew all over the places. Or maybe, compared to the illness of the body, the running of my thoughts, is what’s, more, torturous.
And so, this still just showed, that it’s how the mind interprets things, that can make us live in hell, or live in heaven, like how this man had, experienced his flu, it was not just, physically trying, but his mind ran all over the places, and he couldn’t, quiet his mind down, and that to him, was, hell, and he’d, gained a better understanding of his own self, through his contracting the flu here.
Understanding of just HOW important it is, to be able to stay physically agile as we age, from the experiences of those around her, and now, she’s, taking heed, making sure she stays, as agile as she is allowed to, stay, physically, so she doesn’t have to, impose on her children as she enters into the elderly years, translated…
I’d heard hat my fifth uncle who’d been healthy and agile who’s eighty-five had, slipped in the bathrooms and bumped his head, had started exerting signs of early stages of dementia already; while my aunt is also in her seventies, going on eighty too, worried that the two of them may fall down together, my younger cousin immediately filed the papers to hire a foreign nurse’s aide, it’d made me feel thrilled.
My fifth uncle looks exactly like my mother, in the ten siblings, the two of them were the closest to each other, he’d often come to her to carry on in conversations, he’d poured his heart out, from his younger schooling careers, to falling in love, to getting married, to starting to work, not to my grandmother but to my, mom, “the eldest sister became a mother”, was the relation of my fifth uncle with my, mother. He’d often come over to hang, and took the two of us to play in the playgrounds, to the track fields to work off our excessive energies, clearly, he’s the king of us, and it’d made us feel, that he was my mother’s eldest son, that my older brother was the second-born.
After mom passed, my fifth uncle started growing old quickly, I saw him healthy awhile back when we’d gathered for the family meals, and now, the news of him tripping, falling down, leading to his diagnosis of dementia, and I’d recalled how he’d laughed and talked awhile ago, and now, he’s, stuck in his sickbed, and my heart ached for him.
continuing to exercise as we ought to to stay physically fit, as we grow older…
photo from online
It is something that’s terrible for an elderly person to trip and fall. A college classmate of mine, accidentally slipped on a piece of green onion, and broken his fibula, she lives alone, lost her husband already, and, the two daughters who were both married were thrilled by her fall, rushed back to stay with her to care for her, she’d felt really bad about it. As I’d gone to visit her, she’d reminded us all, to clear off the floors, to get rid of the spilled water, the residuals of the vegetables, that at our age, we can’t, afford to trip and slip and fall. Although now, she’d made a full recovery, her joints started aching when the weather changed, and she’d, not dared alerted her daughters, and can only, put up with the pains and aches by herself.
All of these had made me alert over the cleanliness of my floors, and it got me to the point of not being able to accept a speck of dust, no drop of water on it, keeping the bathroom dry, immediately mopping up the water on the kitchen floors, picking up the trash, in case, all of these will turn into the final straw that brings down the camel’s, back. My husband joked about how anal I’d become, but we’re both, entered into the elderly age, we can’t afford to trip and fall. Best be, prepared all that we possibly, can.
I’d made myself, chewed my foods thoroughly before swallowing, to avoid the choking hazards now, can’t just, gulf everything down like I used to, and I must admit, that it takes longer for me to swallow the foods down these days too, my teeth became, loosen somewhat as well, and I’d, taken the smaller bites, if I were to choke, nobody will carry the pains of that, I am trying to, become an elder who doesn’t, trouble anybody else.
so we won’t be like this…in need of someone else’s assistance to help us get up in the mornings…photo from online
There’s business to take care of, I’d gotten out early, and trekked very slowly, I’m no longer pressed by the performance like I once was from work, followed the traffic signs, looked both ways to make sure there was no cars coming or going on the streets I’m about to cross. Never would I, run to, catch a bus again, the next one will come in about, a little over ten minutes, no need to rush, why risk my health, for these, few extra, seconds of time.
My husband and I made that pact, to grow old together, healthy, I’d once experienced how trying it was, getting burned on both ends, caring for my two parents who were ill at the same, time, to live until the end, as healthy as I possibly can, to NOT drag my kids down, that is, the goal I am working toward right now; in other words, dying peacefully, is what my husband and I are, working towards for the end.
So, this is on how important to keep up with our own agility as we age, because, as we grow older, we’re bound to slow down considerably in our reaction time, our flexibility, and, if we don’t try and keep our bodies agile enough, then, when old age comes, we will, have hell to pay, not to mention, that we will, become burdens to our own young and none of us want that, do we? Of course not!
Haste makes, WASTE, or rather, it’d, caused you to, spend, the EXTRA money that you could’ve gotten the items you needed, for absolutely, F-R-E-E! Lessons of life here, translated…
It’s said, that the leaves of the Indian almond is a good tool for controlling the quality of water in a fishtank, it helps with balancing the pH level, as well as control the growth of bacteria, allowing the species in the tank, to live closest to their, natural, environments.
the dried leaves that go for a dollar apiece from an online store, photo from online
Of course, we can use the chemicals to mix up the solution, to help steady the quality of the water in the tank too, but the leaves of the Indian almond are natural, not like chemicals, like eating a varieties of vegetables and fruits, beats taking the, vitamins, I a firm believer of natural is the best. My index finger stayed still on the left key, the seller’s ad stated, that this is the seasons of the leaves of the Indian almond falling down, that if I’d missed out, I’d had to, wait for a whole year, for the next year’s leaves to fall to purchase, buy now, regret later. My finger clicked, I’d, placed an order, a leaf for two dollars.
I’d picked up my package at the super convenience store, couldn’t wait to open it, retrieved a huge bag of the leaves out, just like the photo online, the oval shaped leaves, that full and steady red color, circular, and filled with the bliss. The seller had even added a postscript: to thank you for your purchase, I’d given you a few extra pieces. I don’t have a big tank, I’d used a-third of a leaf, this amount would last me, a long, long, time.
The following day, as I normally had, I’d, passed through the, park, passing the elderly who were, exercising, the ladies heading off to the marketplaces for the groceries. The more anxious I was of heading off to work, to finish up the tasks I had waiting for me at the office, I’d, moved faster and faster, and faster still. Then suddenly, the rustles came into my ears, I’d, looked, and found myself, walking across a, thick, full leaf—that saturated red, wasn’t it the Indian almond leaves I’d just, purchased yesterday, that I was so glad I bought for two-dollars apiece, cheap?
or you can, wait for the leaves to fall out of the trees at the local parks…take a broom, and a trash bag to collect, and you’d be doing the park cleaners, that favor, reducing their, workload…photo form online
I stopped, DEAD in my, tracks, and, suddenly found myself, standing, over a blanket of the leaves, a gentle breeze came, then, several leaves, fall down. I’d, lifted my head, the stems and the leaves are, red, decorating the trees, covering up half the sky, like a peacock, with the tail feathers, fully, propped up, like the flamingos. Did I, really, pass her every single, day? I’d refocused onto the ground, the leaves are stacked up now, I’d thought, if I can, pack it all up, and take it away, I would’ve, definitely, helped the park sweepers a whole, lot.
In the evenings, I’d felt cheated, and, picked up a leaf, took it home to compare. And, without a doubt, it was, the exact same as I’d, ordered, while, the one I’d taken home was red, and it’d, looked, better than the one I’d, purchased that came in a, pack. At this time, I had, a mixture of, feelings, and, got stuck in the, confusions; are all the problems that we’re troubled by in the current moment, all have the answers right in front of our eyes?
But, at least, one thing’s for sure: I will NEVER need to, spend any more money on the leaves, to use it to purify my, fishtank after this!
So, sometimes, we’re, too caught up, stuck in the problem we are stuck on in the moment, and we can’t see the solutions, and all we needed to do, is to, take a step, backwards, to see the whole picture, but, because we’re, STUCK on that point, we can’t step back and see, until, we are given the, opportunity to, step back, then, VOILA, so that, is what this is!
The weirdest labyrinth of life is a straight line, seemingly, ordinary, simple, nothing strange, but we don’t know, that the lines had been, weaved from the intricate, the complex threads.
What’s most weird and fazing was, why would those complex strands that twisted and turned, become, so simple? Could it be, that it is, a grace endowed to us, from someone?
Yeah, that is how it goes, isn’t it? When you feel that life’s getting too hard, and you can’t, make it through, you see the light suddenly, after being stuck in the dark too long, and you attribute it to the grace from up above, because it feels better, that we all, leave our lives, in the hands of a, “higher power”…
62.
There’s not necessarily any love in pity, but, there’s the pity in love for sure, which showed, of how complex love is.
But, the complexities of love, we’d usually, backed out of and away, from, this is due to the weakness of, man.
So, it’s all our nature, that we feared a good thing, because of how we’d, gotten socialized to NOT trust this world, that’s why, we don’t have any faith in the world around us, which is precisely WHY the world is going to hell!
63.
There is no, Mother Nature, Mother Nature is, make-believe. But we needed this belief that counters man and the world.
Man and the world are too complex, so we need the simplicity of Mother Nature.
So, there’s NO, mother nature, but nature exists on its own, and the thought of Mother Nature is just to fulfill our needs of having a loving mother, who will, accept us whatever we do, and we in turn, abused her, keep taking from her resources greedily, until she decided enough IS enough, ALL you stupid little humans need to learn your lessons, then, she’d, UNLEASHED her anger out on the, world.
How it was, when the individual doesn’t even CARE, while everybody else around her/him is getting, worried…the column by Jimmi Liao, translated by me…
She’d Been, Slow to Discover, that Someone Cared for, Her,
That Someone’s, Missing Her, Constantly, that Someone is, Falling in Love.
The Butterflies Became Flustered at How She Was So Unaware, the Birds, Too Worried that They’d Stopped Their, Songs
The Flowers, Getting Too Anxious, that Their Faces Turned to, Black Now
the artwork of Jimmi Liao, courtesy of UDN.com
And so, the individual is still, the LAST to know, because, she’s just, not into love right now, or she got, something else, that’s, taking up all of her, attention, either way, she may not been searching for, or was in need of love right now…
Treating yourself, AND the kids to a meal, because you’d worked hard, all year long, taking care of them, and they’d, worked well along with you too! Translated…
In January, my husband told me, that the year-end banquet of his company is coming, and he won’t be home until past nine, there will be the good foods, performances, as well as a raffle too; in the past few years, I’d had to watch the kids, and I’d become, envious that he got to attend, and so, I’d decided, that on the evening of my husband’s end-of-year banquet at his company, the kids and I will go to a restaurant to dine too, to have a special end-of-year banquet for us.
the year-end banquet hosted by the companies…photo from online
Taking a seven-year-old and a three-year-old on my own out to dine, it was, somewhat, difficult, maintaining order while waiting to get seated, the two young children waiting for me to split up the foods for them, suddenly, someone needs to, go……….and I can only, gulfed down my meals, and only known that I’d, eaten already, and, not much more. Thankful, I’d recently found a children-friendly restaurant, with the live performances, and the older girls who can become my kids’ playmates in the game room, I get to feed myself first, then, call them out to eat. And, as we got home, I’d, also held a raffle with my kids, and the surprising yelps, and the joyous laughter filled that night.
“Today is our year-end banquet! Did you guys have a blast?”, I’d asked my children. “Yes we had! But, what’s a year-end banquet?”, the kids questioned.
celebrating with the kids at a restaurant…photo from online
“It’s a gathering that companies held for the hardworking employees through the entire year, mom’s work is taking care of you guys, I think, we’d all worked really hard for the past year, we’re all, amazing, and so, I’d had a year-end banquet, for all of, us, and next year, we will, work well together again, and, have another year-end banquet!”, I’d told them.
“Yay! Today WAS, fun! But mom, I think we are amazing EVERY DAY, and we should, reward ourselves, every single day! We can have many end-of-year-banquets, and not just once a year?”, the kids’ childish words made me laugh, but they seem to, have a, point! So, why must you wait, until a special occasion, to treat yourselves kindly, I mean, everyday should be lived like that, I mean, you’d worked hard, caring for your children, and your work is around the clock, 365 or 366 (depending on if it’s a leap year or not!) days a year, and you DESERVE some special treatment for all of your hard work, and you still don’t have days off like on the weekends or the national holidays when the regular 9-to-5ers are off…
It’s the husband’s turns, to make the breakfasts for his wife and children, filling their stomach and hearts with the warmth of the foods he’d made for them, as well as the love in their, hearts, translated…
No Expressions of My Love Through the Words, No Need for Epic, Through the Meals I’d Made, Seeping into the Daily Lives of My, Loved, Ones……….
In the winter mornings before light, the alarm sounded off on time, reminding me to get up and make the breakfasts for my kids.
like this…what he’s doing after he retired…photo from online
My body, that’s, still kept warm by the covers, still dreamed on, refusing to get up. But, my mind started, nagging, sunny side up on toasts, with a dab of ketchup, then, a cup of warm milk each for their breakfasts. As I’d come back to it, I’d found my self, out from the cover, putting that coat on, walking toward the, kitchen.
The golden egg sizzled in the frying pan, the whole wheat toast started, giving off the aromas in the toaster, as the milk was heated up to just the right temperature, I’d, lifted my head to look out the window, the sun was already, high up in the clouds, the city is now, awake.
This was the menu for this morning, on other days, sometimes, there’s the fried egg on onion pancake, sometimes, the sesame oil over the noodles, at other times, dumplings………anyways, I’d hoped, that my wife and children’s stomachs and hearts are warmed and fed before they rushed away for work.
As the foods had all been made and placed on the tables, they were coming down the stairs one by one, and, arrived at the breakfast table. Today, out of the ordinary, my daughter was the earliest, turned out, she had a badminton tournament in the afternoon, she’s getting into the game. I’d not struck up conversations about the game she’s to play later, nor told her, you will do well, just watched her as she’d eaten the breakfast. “How is it?”, I’d inquired. Still chewing, she’d smiled and said, “thanks for the breakfast!”
She and her older brother are setting out together now to catch the bus, I’d asked for a hug from her, and told her, “just have fun today!”, I really hope she’ll enjoying the game she played in the competition. Her older brother told her, “in the afternoon, I shall come to watch you play!”, she’d chuckled, then, the two of them, laughed and walked out together, carrying on in their, conversations.
illustration from UDN.com
Then, my wife rushed downstairs, she had to go immediately, otherwise, she will get stuck in morning traffic. “Heated up the milk for your latte on the stove, take the toast and the sunny side up on the way.” She saw that I’d fixed breakfasts already, she’d, stirred up her coffee. That tiny spoon swirled in the mug, making the chimes, there was, that unknown sense of healing to the sound, this was, the tiny gift I can give to her, being stuck, in the cracks of our, lives.
“I’m off, have fun with the pots and pans, and the dishes, honey!”, she’d switched back to her tempo, and, readied for a whole days of, work that’s busy. “No problem, I’m on it, careful on the road.”, I’d repeated these words like a line, making it into, a sort of a “secret code of love” between us.
After my wife leaves, the kitchen and the living room fell, silent. I’d made another serving of breakfast, made a cup of coffee, to reward myself, for getting up early for the family. As the aroma of the coffee got on my palate, the sun shone through the windows just right, passing the curtains, and, into the house. I’d, slowly, sipped at my coffee in the morning glow, recalled how in the past hour, this tiny kitchen had, helped me with my magic trick—the love is unspoken, no need to be an epic, it’d entered into my families’ day-to-day routines, through the breakfasts I’d prepared for them. Although, it wasn’t the work of a master chef, but, feeling the warmth of the stomach, in the coldness of the wind, the hearts will, get, warmed also, I’m sure, they can feel my love, and my support for them.
So, this is what you’re, doing, now that you’d, stepped down from your work post, you’d become, a home cook, waking up early, making those breakfasts with love for your children and your wife, and I’m sure, that they are, more than, appreciative of you for it.
The Ivory Tower of My Mind 