Friends

Through my personal tragedy, I have been given an opportunity to appreciate my friends.

Some friends do not know what to do with my loss and agony, and so they leave me alone. They might feel awkward to be with me when I am no longer the same old person they used to know. My tears, an unfamiliar sign, come easily and uncontrollably. They think their presence brings me pain. So, they wait patiently for me to regain my old self which, of course, will be impossible. As time wears on, I am used to being left alone and feeling detached. But never in a moment I resent my friends' treatment. After all, my tears are alien to them. I truly understand that it would be unfair to pour my sadness to friends who already have their own predicaments. My personal hardship is mine and it will stay with me until I die. Time can never heal my wound but tears can alleviate my pain.

Some other friends do not know what to do with my loss and agony, and yet they are there for me. They do not wait for my asking for help. They come to my house to see me cry, and they telephone me to hear me cry. My tears do not distance us. In fact, their presence and silence ease my pain and warm my heart. Sometimes I talk a lot and other times I just cry. They let me be my new self. There are times I can even joke and laugh. My friends make me realize that it is important to put my sadness on hold for a short while. Life spins on.

I respect all of my friends and I also respect their ways of showing their concerns. As life, most of the time, is hectic and problematic, I have no right to interrupt their precious serenity. To calm my disturbed mind and lessen my ceaseless affliction, in addition to crying, I spend much time reading and writing. Nevertheless, I am still thankful to be loved by my friends.

I would like to share the following poem with all of my friends.


Please See Me Through My Tears

You asked, "How are you doing?"
As I told you, tears came to my eyes...and you looked away and quickly began to talk again.
All the attention you had given me had drained away.

"How am I doing?" I do better when people listen, though I may shed a tear or two.
This pain is indescribable.
If you've never known it, you cannot fully understand.
Yet I need you.
When you look away, I am again alone with it.
Your attention means more than you can ever know.
Really, tears are not a bad sign, you know!
They're nature's way of helping me to heal.
They relieve some of the stress of sadness ....but you are wrong.

The memory of my loved one's death will always be with me,
Only a thought away.
My tears make my pain more visible to you, but you did not give me the pain...it was already there.
When I cry, could it be that you feel helpless,
Not knowing what to do?
You are not helpless, And you don't need to do a thing but be there.
When I feel your permission to allow my tears to flow, you've helped me
You need not speak.
Your silence as I cry is all I need.
Be patient...do not fear.

Listening with your heart to "how I am doing" relieves the pain for when the tears can freely come and go, I feel lighter.
Talking to you releases what I've wanted to say aloud, clearing space for a touch of joy in my life.
I'll cry for a minute or two... and then I'll wipe my eyes and sometimes you'll even find I'm laughing later.
When I hold back the tears, my throat grows tight, my chest aches, my stomach knots... because I'm trying to protect YOU from my tears.
Then we both hurt ME, because my pain is held inside, a shield against our closeness and YOU, because suddenly we are distant.

So please, take my hand and see me through my tears... then we can be close again.

Author Unknown

Why do I write?

Writing gives me comfort and peace.

There are times, without a warning, breathing is hard and my mind is in a deep pit. Inside the darkness, my hands grasp the emptiness and coldness. The errie silence hums. My eyes are wide open but nothing can be seen. I lose hope in life.

To pull myself out of the pit, I take a deep breath and sit down at my desk.

I either pick up a pen to write or turn on the computer to type. When words start to come into my head and out come alive from my hand and fingers, my deep breaths slowly return to normal. The surroundings are less scary. I hope, at least for a while, my agony can be put on hold.

To some people it is easy for them to say, " You have to let go. Whatever you do you can't bring him back." But they would never understand the pain will never go away. I have to find ways to survive the agony and suffering. Writing is the best means for me to escape and to forget the pain for a while.

In my stories, my invented characters take over my life. I give them my problems and worries and use their personality and ability to solve them. Most of the time, the problems and worries would suddenly take different forms because of the characters' life style and background. We have different views in life.

My characters have their own styles and it doesn't mean they are right about their ways of solving problems. It is clear that we all have our own ways to handle problems in life.

I am not sure who is really in control. My mind or my characters?

Life is...

Life is a dichotomy. It includes happiness, sadness, success, failure, gains, losses, hope, despair, acceptance, rejection, optimism and pessimism. The list can go on. People look at life from different prospectives depending on their life experiences.
Not long ago, one of my good friends sent me an e-mail which was about the advantages of getting old. He takes pride in aging. His life experience makes him wiser and kinder. He takes life easy hoping to live longer to enjoy more of it. He wishes I would enjoy life just like him.
I am living in the presence. I let tomorrow take care of itself. Life is not just a dichotomy, it is also unpredictable.