July 30th, 2007
perfection
Posted by goDWin at 12:45 AM on July 30, 2007.
every meaningful relationship has its moments. that day where all morning and afternoon, father and son worked in the yard and at night went to the big game and the home team won. the time when two best buddies partied and raised hell anywhere and everywhere until finally they collapsed in their hotel room from sheer exhaustion. the girlfriend's birthday where she woke up to the smell of her favorite flower and the happy couple spent pretty much all day in each other's arms. those are the perfect moments, the ones you never forget, the ones that make your relationship special, the ones that let you know how much you truly care about and love that person. it's unfortunate but sadly inevitable that a lot of these relationships will come to an end at some point. children move away. couples break up. friends fight or lose touch. or maybe it's just someone's time to go. regardless, sometimes all you have left are the memories...but we all know memories are not even half as good as the real thing.
family. school. friends. it's amazing how things can change so quickly. i've lived a lot of my life in memories recently. it seems things used to be so much better "back in the day." in reality i actually don't have it bad at all right now - med school with a dual degree, a loving family who has stayed strong during some hard times - but i can't seem to let go of those perfect moments from the past, when everything was more carefree, when life's inevitabilities didn't crash into you, when it all just seemed more happy. but that's all it really is right? just memories. not the real thing. and even though the present doesn't feel quite as nice, even though it sometimes doesn't seem very fair, maybe it's about time that i try accepting it.
at least i have cheeto to help me along :)
July 29th, 2007
late night musings
Posted by goDWin at 01:38 AM on July 29, 2007.
i've wanted to write for awhile now but i just never seemed to get around to it. don't get me wrong, it wasn't that i was really busy or anything...in fact, there were a few days where i didn't do much of anything except relax...it's just that whenever i wanted to write down my thoughts, it seemed as if my mind would suddenly go blank. if you know anything about me, you know that i think a lot...some say too much...and i write to get those thoughts out before they explode in me. i know, kind of dramatic, but i've always found it cathartic to put my thoughts on paper or online. i think i've mentioned before about how public journals draw me because it's a way for me to put myself out there without really putting myself out there...without having that awkwardly direct conversation with someone about what i'm thinking or how i'm feeling. it's oddly comforting to be able to put my thoughts out there and know that someone cares enough to see what's going on with me, without me having to be weird and bringing it up in person.
so anyways, my mind isn't blank at the moment. the truth is that i've had so many thoughts running through my head, which i guess is pretty much par for the course for me. i think i was scared of my own thoughts, scared that by putting them down, they'd suddenly become more real.
it's been a little over four weeks since my grandma passed away. i feel guilty that i don't think about her more. she was such an integral part of our family, yet a couple days ago i realized that i hadn't thought about her for a whole week. how could i forget so quickly? the rational part of me says that it's more natural for me to move on quicker because i don't live in vancouver and i only saw her once a year at most. but then the other part of me says so what, it was grandma. blood is blood. it scares me a little bit because you can love someone so deeply and be heartbroken if you lose them, but in the end all you have are their memories, and if they don't make a strong enough impression, even those wonderful memories fade with time. even lovers forget.
the other day i had the most morbid thought...would anyone be sad if i died? i was thinking back on my grandma's funeral...how there were hundreds of flower arrangements, how all of her nephews did something special in her honor, how her children talked so lovingly about their mother, how all of her friends gave their final respects, how we all cried because we had lost her...she made an impression on all of these people. i thought about my friends, about the people that i hope care about me in some way. what kind of impression have i made on them? how do people see me? and i'm afraid that it's not all that good.
i wondered if any of them cared enough to take a bullet for me. it's a weird thought, whether or not someone loved you enough, cared about you enough to die for you. besides my family, there are 2 people in this world that i would die for. i guess i should count myself lucky because that's 2 more people than some folks have. how's that old saying go: that 1 lifelong best friend is better than 1000 aquaintances and better than 1000 friends who don't know how to keep in touch...or am i completely making that up. i'm tempted to say that someone i know came up with that phrase, but nevertheless, i agree with it. it's comforting to know that outside my family i have 2 people that i can trust no matter what and that i have 2 people that i can go to and confide in and protect no matter what the situation...but do those 2 feel the same about me? do they believe that i'll always be there for them and love them no matter what, like i believe they feel for me? i'm not sure.
how do you want to be remembered? what kind of legacy do you want to leave here on earth? in the end, does it really matter? who will remember you?
June 25th, 2007
grandma
Posted by goDWin at 01:48 PM on June 25, 2007.
my grandmother, my dad's mom, passed away last friday june 22nd at 4:30pm pacific standard time. she had been battling liver cancer for some time now. back in november it seemed as if it was her time to go. my parents even sent my brother and i up to vancouver on a last-minute flight over thanksgiving break to see grandma one last time. fortunately on the day we were set to fly back to charlotte, she made a dramatic recovery, as if to tell everyone "i'm not done yet. i still have some fight in me. i still have more to do."
she stayed with us for another seven months. as if she wanted to, need to, had to be there for my grandpa's 80th birthday nine days ago, when almost all of her children and grandchildren would be there. so that we could all dine together as a family, take family photos with cheesy smiles, do our "gung hays" and three birthday songs...so we could celebrate one last time. in chinese culture (and probably most other cultures) it's considered a special blessing to be surrounded by your family as you move on to the next world. and was she ever. it's not often that we can all get together like this, especially since some of us are so far away. but i don't think she was really doing it for herself. she was doing it for us, because she knew it would make us feel better. she knew that it would comfort us in knowing that we could all be there for her in her last moments.
you never expect these things to happen so suddenly, even if you know it's close to that time. i've been fortunate in my life to have never lost someone i've know in more than a casual way, until now. one minute they're here, and the next they're gone, and it's like...if you've ever lost someone close to you, if you've ever experienced heartbreak...it's that feeling where your heart is falling.
my grandma and i were never particularly close. i don't think that many people have deep connections with their grandparents - too big of a generation gap - but it was especially hard for my brother and i because we saw them at most once a year, and usually less than that. so why did i take it so hard? and i realize it wasn't the amount of time but the quality of time spent that really mattered. it wasn't that we needed to have her constantly around us to miss her, but rather just knowing that someone who loved us and cared for us so deeply, who would play her stereotypical grandmother role to a T and stuff us with delicious chinese food every time we visited, who would always tell me how proud she was of me and always wanted me to tell her how well i was doing in school and in life, someone like her in my life is not there anymore...that was enough to make it hard. and it wasn't about how far apart our families are but rather how close her and grandpa made us feel when we all got together that really mattered. how everyone always gathers at my sixth aunt's house where my grandparents live, how we always eat at grandpa and grandma's favorite restaurant in the same section every time we visit, how our reasons for visiting are always their birthdays, how their presence was the seal to truly make something a family affair...that was enough to make it hard. and it wasn't that i lost her but that her children, my father and my aunts, these wonderful people in my life lost their mother that really mattered. they lost their caretaker, they lost the woman who held them in their arms as babies, who took care of them and made sure they were living right, who imparted her wisdom upon them, helped them to develop their values and morals, to be good people...that was enough to make it hard.
grandma, you were one of the happiest people i had ever met. always smiling or laughing, constantly surrounded by family and friends. and you gave that happiness back to us. there was never a sad moment when you were around. i wish i could have told you how much you were appreciated, but i have a feeling that the only thing that mattered to you was that we all enjoyed our times together as a family. i wish i could have had more opportunities to get to know you better, but i see your children, a reflection of you, and it's enough for me to know that you are a strong woman, a righteous woman, a loving and caring woman, a Godly woman. thank you for what you've given our family...a chance to connect against the miles between us. thank you for what you gave me...a man who worked extremely hard to secure a comfortable life for his family, a man who loves and respects his wife, a man who raised his kids right, a man who i am immensely proud to call dad. i love you grandma. you will be deeply missed.
June 11th, 2007
about a girl
Posted by goDWin at 01:00 AM on June 11, 2007.
I had forgotten what it felt like to be happy. That is, until the day I started to pack up my things for the big move. Digging through the closet, pulling out all the winter clothes to be stuffed in boxes, and there it was, buried beneath the sweaters and sweatshirts…one of her t-shirts. My favorite one. It still smelled of her apartment, of jasmine and raspberry-scented candles. And for the briefest of moments, I smiled at the memories.
I loved her even before we were together. I just didn’t know it at the time. I was always shy and awkward around women, but with her I never ran out of things to say, and she was always gracious enough to let me ramble on about absolutely nothing. She would listen intently and even express interest in topics that I knew she could care less about like sports and video games. I adored her for it. We were from different circles, but we had much in common. We listened to the same music, watched the same shows, shared the same ideas on faith. We would hang out together with our separate groups of friends, but it was never a problem when one of us wanted to do our own thing. When we had disagreements she would never raise her voice or talk down to me, and she never resorted to insults. She accepted my shortcomings and understood that I wasn’t perfect. She was perfect for me. I told her as much.
Some people may have thought it strange that two 20-somethings would enjoy plays and musicals so much, but there we were at least once a month: Mezzanine section, Row C, Seats 12 and 13. I always sat in 12 because she said it felt more natural to hold my right hand in her left, like what we did when I drove us places. I always looked forward to those evenings because she never failed to take my breath away. I knew everyone was looking at her and thinking to themselves how beautiful and elegant she was and what was she doing with that guy when she could do much better. But even as the slightest hint of insecurity crept into my body it was always like she could sense it and she’d place her arms in mine and kiss me on the cheek as if to say no worries baby I’ll always be here for you. And then she’d laugh as I groaned and desperately tried to rub the lipstick off my face, but secretly I loved every time she did it.
As much fun as we had at those events, as much as we enjoyed going to parties and clubs and bars together and with friends, as much as we took pleasure in our spontaneous trips to the beach or the mountains, those aren’t the times I treasure the most. The moments I’ll never forget, the moments that I truly loved, were when we would lie next to each other at night, right before we fell asleep, where I would tell her about the latest thing I learned in class while she would give me the latest dish on celebrity news. We would talk about our days, and we would talk about our futures. As uncertain as I was about where my life would take me, I was never scared because she was there. She always encouraged me and made me hope for more, work for more. She gave me a sense of purpose.
I would hold her hand in mine and watch her eyelids get heavy while I droned on and on, and I would keep talking even when it looked like she had fallen asleep because she liked hearing my voice and said it was soothing. Every morning when I woke up she’d be anywhere and everywhere on the bed, sometimes her head nestled in my neck, sometimes completely spread-eagle and almost pushing me off the bed, sometimes my little spoon, sometimes with a knee to my groin. But no matter what, when I kissed her on the forehead to wake her up she would look at me and without fail say, “Good morning. I love you.”
She made me feel whole.
She made me feel special.
She made me feel loved.
We were only together for two years, but it was the only time in my life when I ever felt complete, when I ever felt truly happy. I miss her so bad sometimes. Sitting in class, not paying attention, looking out the window and seeing people lying on the grass in the quad, and suddenly I’m there with her relaxing and soaking up the warm spring sun when we should have been studying instead. When I sit down in front of my piano or pick up my violin, struggling as I try to make my fingers remember how they used to move…she pushed me to play again, to not lose what I had learned, to utilize my talent. I did it to make her happy, but it turned out that I actually missed playing too. Like she knew it all along. I wrote songs for her. They were horrible. She loved them.
When she told me she was dying I didn’t believe her. I was actually mad at first because I thought it was some kind of sick joke, and it wasn’t funny. But when I saw the sadness in her eyes, when I saw how her lips trembled, I had to believe her. The doctors said there was nothing they could do except make her as comfortable as possible. Even as her health slowly deteriorated, she remained as upbeat as she could. She told me that everything would be ok, that she was ready, that she had made her peace. She told me that she wasn’t scared so I shouldn’t be scared. But she was scared. I could see it in her eyes. I wish I could have been stronger for her, but even though I was weak she was strong for me. I would have given anything to trade places with her. I prayed to God to take me instead of her. But these types of prayers are never answered. These wishes never come true. At least not in real life.
I dream about her all the time. She loved baking, and in my dreams I see her making all of our favorites. When I wake up I swear I can still smell the fresh apple pie she just made. Sometimes in my dreams we’re just walking together on the beach, in a park, through downtown, but always holding hands. But my favorite dream is the one when she agreed to be my girl. She seemed so embarrassed by the question and I was afraid she was going to say no and I was almost ready to run away and hide, but fortunately for me she said yes.
Before she left she made me promise to keep doing everything we planned. She made me promise to keep going to our favorite places. And so every month, I put on my best suit, head to the theater, and sit down in Mezzanine section, Row C, Seat 12. Because it is more natural this way.
I loved her. I’ll always love her.
June 9th, 2007
the happiest days of my life
Posted by goDWin at 02:36 AM on June 9, 2007.
what is happiness? i really have no clue as to the complete meaning of the word, but i guess the way i see it is you're happy if everything goes right. you're happy if nothing goes wrong, or if the wrong is too insignificant to matter. you're happy when you're not stressed out about anything, when you're enjoying something, when you're content with where you are in the world. in my life there have been many days where i've been happy, but some stand out more than others. these days are the epitome of what i think happiness is in some way, shape or form. unfortunately i'm limited by how far back i can remember feelings so these are heavily skewed toward the latter years of my still-young life. scattered between these days were plenty others where i was probably equally happy if not moreso, and either there was just not any one particular moment or event that helped it truly stand out, or it was similar in content to the ones below (whether it was with the same people or it was the same kind of day). because truth be told, i know i'm most happy when i'm doing mundane things, little things, stuff like hanging out with friends, cuddling under blankets with a significant other to watch a movie, spending all day playing basketball...and i'm sure i'm not alone in that sentiment. so anyways, the first 10 happiest days of my life to pop into my head, in no particular order:
(1) the last day of my first cruise: since we were returning to port we spent the entire day on the ship. i don't remember too much about the daytime, but the food at dinner was amazing, the best of the week with the exception of lobster/prime rib day. my cousins, my brother and i ran around the ship, went to the kiddie clubs (i was only 16 at the time), ate midnight buffet, then played mahjongg from 1 until we docked at 7:30. about as carefree as you can get.
(2) the day that alonzo mourning made the last-second jumper to beat the celtics and win the first playoff series for the charlotte hornets: i was really young when this happened, but i still remember the sense of euphoria i felt as i watched this. it was the first time i ever felt myself bursting with pride for anything other than something i or my family did.
(3) spring break 2003, the day we made the sand dragon: it started out as just a wall against the waves, but somehow over the course of 3 hours it morphed into a really cool-looking sand dragon. unfortunately it barely lasted 30 minutes before some snot-nosed kid stepped all over it. in addition, this was the first spring break without parents watching over me all the time, and so the sense of freedom, that we could do whatever we wanted (not that we really did anything bad) was great. what a relaxing day: perfect weather, good friends, good times.
(4) when i get married: i know this hasn't happened yet and probably won't for awhile, but i'm almost positive that this will be one of the happiest days of my life.
(5) when the panthers win the superbowl: again, hasn't happened yet, but it will one day, and if i felt euphoric after the hornets won a playoff series, i can't imagine how awesome it will feel when the panthers bring home the championship.
(6) my 22nd birthday: i've had a lot of good birthdays. my 21st (both days of it) was really fun but kinda blurred so i don't think i can really count it. on my 16th i went to morton's steakhouse with my family where we just missed seeing mel gibson back when he wasn't considered an anti-semitic sexist (he was in the area filming the patriot movie) and i had this 48-oz porterhouse along with appetizer, salad, and bread. but i think i was probably happiest on my 22nd. from the moment i woke up to the moment i went to sleep it was the perfect day, and i don't think i'll ever forget it.
(7) the day i got into unc med: nothing really special here, except for that phone call i got from one of the people who interviewed me to tell me i got accepted. i couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.
(8) one new year's eve swim practice: i don't quite remember what year this was, but i'm pretty sure it was during my sophomore year of high school. anyways, my team was notorious for pushing us very hard on new year's eve because we would always have the rest of the day plus two more days off to recover, which was a lot. this particular practice was more brutal than usual: 6 am practice, 14000 yards in 3 hours, main set 24x400 IM. the reason why this was a happy day was because even though it was painful, i swam really well and finished everything well within the intervals while most of my teammates doing the same set floundered. i guess it's self-satisfaction or something, but it made me feel good.
(9) new years 2002: this was the first time i had a girlfriend. i had asked a girl out before but was summarily rejected, so i was a little nervous about doing it. fortunately she said yes. it was kinda corny with it being on new years but sometimes it's the corny, cliche moments that stick with you the most.
(10) april 4th, 2005: the day the tarheels won the national championship. pretty self-explanatory.
looking over these i find it kind of funny that 3 of the 10 are related to sports. i know the brain tends to remember major, fantastic moments, but damn. i guess i know what's at the forefront of my memory bank.