Savoring the Moment
--Ernest Hemingway
My youngest child asked as we were laying in bed together in the dark, "Mommy, do you think you're gonna die?" Ugh, the pain...my heart broke into pieces. I cried silently. Good thing it was dark in the room that he wasn't be able to see me cry. He asked again, "What if you die in your sleep?" The fact that those questions are not just a part of normal developmental curiosity but have real life relevancy to my little boy breaks my heart. He attended a workshop for kids with parents with cancer a couple of days ago. He is now able to connect and ask questions about death with me. His anxious heart for what might happen, and the guilt that somehow he is responsible for my illness. He asked me "What if you go down there?" What is down there I asked. He said, "You know, H*E* L* L". "Oh! I know I am going to heaven because I believe in Jesus Christ." He said "Me too!" I should've took him earlier but I thought my kids were coping well. I neglected to see the real worry and fear in my children...all of them. I am glad my son is able to talk about it and process.
I am worried and sad too. I often lay in my bed and cry myself to sleep. I still can't believe such serious illness has taken over my body. Even after all the chemotherapy, surgery and now radiation therapy, it still seems surreal to me that I have cancer. It seems to me that no matter how I try, cancer will take me down one day. Maybe not now but someday. I know I am closer to death now than before. I guess, we are all closer to death today than yesterday.
These days, the weight of life seems so heavy to me. 인생의 무게가 무겁기만 하다. It seems that the time went by with a blink of an eye. I used to feel like I was still in my twenties. Feeling young and vibrant with full expectations for the future, that there will be plenty of time to accomplish, enjoy...to live. I am no longer young or healthy. I no longer feel invincible. I recognize the traces of heaviness of life within me. It seems that it was just yesterday...everything was good. (Wait, is this a song?)
I started my study on Apostle Paul. I was inspired to study about Paul's journey as a human being and a follower of Christ. I wanted to understand his deep and heavy insight on life as he talks about the future glory. His hope and faith in the future glory. The author dedicated "To all those who have followed in the footsteps of the apostle Paul, risking life and loneliness to take Christ's gospel to the uttermost parts of the world." Life and loneliness, I am old enough to understand that those two go in hand in hand. My best friend says the passage is beautifully sorrowful. Sorrow. Once, in one of seminars I led, a Seventh grade girl told me she understands what sorrow feels like. And from the way she described, I understood that she knows about sorrow. I was heavyhearted that a 13 years old girl was familiar with sorrow, because I too was a close friend to sorrow when I was 13 years old. It feels like death.
In retrospect, death has always had an impact on adjusting my perspective and how I lived life. In the mid 70's my grandfather passed after a long illness. I was too young to understand but I saw how sad my father was and I saw how my father's siblings quarreled over their lot in the very small inheritance, I understood that death brings something solemn and dark. In 1988 Swissair flight 111 crashed into the waters of Nova Scotia killing more than 200 passengers. Among the 200 killed, was my co-worker. She was on her way to a meeting in Geneva. I wasn't close to her but hours before she left, she and I stood in front of our offices chit-chatting. That was the last image of the thirty-something career driven co-worker who was killed suddenly. A few months after that incident, another co-worker died of a heart attack. She was a young mother of three. A couple of days before she suddenly died, she sat in my office telling me about a dispute she was having with her supervisor. I was serving as a staff council person that year. I attended both funerals. First, young, unmarried, career-driven woman. The other, a young mother from Brooklyn, working to make ends meet, leaving three very young children behind. I still remember seeing those babies walking behind their mother's casket in that church building. Those babies reminded me of my two baby girls at home. I decided to leave my job which was taking most of my time and my heart. I was proud to be working at UNICEF. I was not about to let it go or have it taken away from me, it was my identity. After suddenly losing two co-workers forced me to re-evaluate my life. If I die tomorrow, what would I regret the most? I was left with a very simple and clear but difficult answer. I gave 6 weeks notice and left my beloved job on the East River. I came home and cried and cried because it felt like I was losing everything. In 2001, 911 turned my life upside down. Everything changed for forever. I wanted to make my short and fragile life count so we ended up adopting. In 2009, I lost a friend to depression and suicide. I went back to graduate school to study counseling after his death. I wanted to serve others by helping them see themselves with God's perspective.
In 2015, I was diagnosed with breast caner. I faced my own possible death. I seriously wondered if it was my time to organize and bring a closure to my own life. To bring a closure...how would I do that? Divide up sentimental articles among my children and friends. Delete journals that I don't want anyone to see and neatly organize writings in a folder for everyone to see. Write letters to each loved one to let them know how much I loved them even though I might not have communicated enough. Apologize to all the people I may have offended and forgive those who have done me wrong. What else might be involved in a closure of one's life?
Who was it that said to live today like you were to die tomorrow...or something like that. Even if I were to die tomorrow, I want to or I want to learn to savor the moment. To give enough time to those in front of me, to listen to them with my ears and heart and to show love with my arms, eyes, and words. I want to learn to breath deeply, rest wholly, laugh loudly, speak kindly, listen closely, watch lovingly. Be present in the moment to enjoy everyone, including myself.
I told my son, we all will die one day but today we live to love each other. I assured him that I will be around for a long time. I hope I am not being too sentimental but it would be naive for me to not to think about death. When my young son said his last goodbye to his grandfather two years ago, he said "Hal-ah-buh-ji (grandfather), have a good time with the Lord." Death is a part of life. As long as God allows me to live I want to learn to savor this life that was given to me. I want to love and live wisely because I don't want to wait until my death bed to tell my loved ones how much I enjoyed them and love them.
Comments
Post a Comment