Death is nothing at all. I am grateful that this random poem speaks what I have been doing lately.
All Is Well
Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped into the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you.
for an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.
All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
~Henry Scott Holland
I now understand why I have been talking to you like before, daily, not that we have talked much before. Daily I greet you and talk about awhile. I call you by your old familiar name. I speak to you in an easy way, like you are just somewhere near, doing your own things, reading or writing, occasionally lifting up your head and glancing my way, with the same old gentle smile, your eyes sparkling as ever, a light frown appearing if I speak too much, yet generously giving me your time despite your tight schedule to prepare your next talk. I know what you are thinking. Yes, life shall continue to mean to me what it has ever meant to both of us–life of light and hope. Sometimes I think I hear you in my heart. I know you are waiting. Somewhere. Very near. Just around the corner. Earth time appears to have accelerated for me. I certainly look forward for this moment of interval to pass so we shall meet again face to face. Nothing would have changed except that I too shall be in your land of no death, no heart-ache and no tear.
What does running and immortality have in common? Before she left earth, she made me promise one thing, not to go down the heart-ache lane. One day we ran through the garden of her beautiful heart -a sunny morning when daffodils became gold, all things washed and freshened and glowed in dazzling light. She paused at the edge of the fenceless garden. I could see a tiny winding lane sloping down beyond, lined by such beauty and wonder on both sides that I could not resist the yearning to run down that lane. But she held my arm and stopped me, and she said, “Promise me one thing, don’t you ever go down that lane!” But why? She said further, “It’s called the heart-ache lane.” But what can be the harm? It looks so beautiful and full of all the happy and sweet memories!” I cried out.
“Yes, my love. Sadly, they will bring pain too. Promise me, don’t go down there!” She made me promise at last.
Now I know why she made me promise not to go down the memory lane. Because I did not keep my promise. I went there the minute she left earth. I stood below the empty stage where we first met. I gazed into the mirror where I once saw her reflection looking at me with a half smile while combing her hair, after I drove endless hours through the mountain just to say hello. I stood outside the old book shop doorway just to catch a glimpse of her emerging with a smile. I sat at the cafe across her workplace expecting to see her walking down the steps and recognizing me from afar and breaking into a gentle and heart-breaking smile.
I made her a small cup of Barista Style Coffee, Latte, on the last morning she could sit up. And she said to me with great difficulty, smiling, pointing at her heart, “You use your heart to make this! Thank you!” I made her a last bowl of semi-solid food, fish porridge, which she loved and ate a bit. I held her hand and told her over and over that I loved her, and would not leave her and she would never be alone, and she nodded and smiled. I wanted her to cut my hair for the last time before the year ended, but she did not make it to year end.
Hair cut. Herbal tea rice. Lamb belly soup. Taiwanese beef noodle. Her hometown no-brand ground coffee. Running side by side in the wind in many different parks. Who would have imagined that such innocent memories could cause such pain? The memory lane is the heart-ache lane. Now I know. Everything reminds me of her. Everything brews up cups of pain.
Don’t forget to remember me. The heart-ache lane urges. How can I forget the last time we lived on earth together? Over decades, I have assimilated her life into mine, countless seamless shared values and goals -eternity belief, spiritual focus, and a life that centers round living for immortality . Our languages merged. Our souls would recognize each other’s thought signals even from a distance, across mountains, oceans, continents, and beyond, even across realms, the heaven and the earth.
Yet she reminds me today, don’t go there anymore. But how? I asked.
Live differently. Revert to the time before we met. Back to your Italian coffee for a start. Back to running. Just run. And then write a poem as you always did. Stop thinking of Taiwan and Japan. And no more sad songs or songs we used to sing together. Sigh….(She says. )
2024-02-03
p/s: I have not sung a song ever since the last song I sang to her before she left earth. And I pray I will run again, freely like a bird flying in the air. Humans are born to run and I am a human.
2024-01-28 (the poem is another therapy for my soul)
Some notes:
*Reepicheep is a heroic talking mouse warrior in the Narnia kingdom. We can learn a lot from him about bravery and faith! Here is an excerpt of his own journey to heaven: (from C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader , Chronicles of Narnia, #3)
Reepicheep’s determination to join heaven:
My own plans are made. While I can, I sail east in the Dawn Treader. When she fails me, I paddle east in my coracle. When she sinks, I shall swim east with my four paws. And when I can swim no longer, if I have not reached Aslan’s country, or shot over the edge of the world into some vast cataract, I shall sink with my nose to the sunrise.
The boat runs aground. Reepicheep lowers his coracle, throws his sword into the sea, and says goodbye. He gets into the coracle and paddles toward the wave. When he reaches it, the coracle is pulled upward along the wall of water, then it vanishes at the top. The sun rises and the vision of the mountains fades away.
Did he make it? Yes. (The Last Battle, the seventh and final novel in The Chronicles of Narnia 1950–1956.
p/s: On a lighter note, I too, happened to come into this world in the Lunar year of the mouse.
2 Corinthians 4:18 (AMP) Since we consider and look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen; for the things that are visible are temporal (brief and fleeting), but the things that are invisible are deathless and everlasting.
How can a long road (that separates heaven and earth) be not long? He has tried to find the sound of his heart to depict his grief for the last thirty-one days. And he still can’t let go of 2023 December. He has lately found a piece of music that resonates with the depth of his soul. Here is his little poem to say what the music says to him.
He has a plan
for days remain
short or long road
not heavy load
to heed the call
He will bear all
hit the long road
that isn’t that long after all
just as they once started
hand in hand a life ago
strolling through daffodil aglow
“not that far beyond”, she said
“I have made it!”
So he will
sail swim climb and come what may
“I’ll see you, the long road is not that long after all!”
He asked the Lord for a message from her in a dream. His wish was granted this morning at dawn. It was clear and simple, just her usual self. Three words. Then he woke and wrote them down. He couldn’t interpret them. They could mean a number of things. The fact that he heard or saw those words means that they were in answer to something that was on his mind lately.
What is on his mind? What has been bothering him? Financial? Something to do with his waiting for something to get through? Because in the dream just before he heard the “message”, he saw a young relative who received a temporary loan from him a few days ago. But he knows it is not money he thinks about right now. Money is the least thing on his mind. What does he care about money when he is getting ready to join her in heaven?
What has been he thinking and asking ever since that fateful morning of her departure from earth? Nothing more than where is she? How is she? Is she happily settled in heaven, in the house prepared by Jesus for her? Is there a time lapse before she is settled? Meanwhile how is she? Where is she? Is she happy? Is she being looked after? Is she in the garden of flowers? Is she by the waterfall?
The three words actually answered his questions. She is settling down well in her new and much better and happier and healthier home. He should have no more worry.
So, back to the question of how long more is he holding fast and not let go of 2023. There is no answer. He has to choose to let go. And right now he just hangs on.
The well wishers may try to comfort or console a person in deep grief. But words are meaningless like water on the duck’s feathers. Grief and pain are brothers. They come in pairs. How to manage pain in a loss like this? How to close the flood gate of pain in the mind and heart? Pain in the soul.
2023-01-25
Note: I am also prompted in my heart to read the end of the Book of Daniel (the name of the relative in the dream) Chapter 12:3 “Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the firmament, and this who turn many to righteousness like the stars forever and ever.” ( Your beloved is there. ) Daniel 12:3
Daniel 12:13 “But you, go your way till the end; for you shall rest, and will arise to your inheritance at the end of the days.”
A death in 2023 made it the most difficult year to cross. All words had fled. All colors faded before their time. Towards the end of December the world died. A heart was torn into two and the torn half left so suddenly that there was no time to weep goodbye. In fact 2023 was the impossible year to cross.
And today is the 21st day after that 5am fateful morning. What is 21 days compared to the 11,315 days of being together? Nothing.
And yet, 21 days mean that 1,814,400 seconds had ticked through. How did that happen? There is no explanation except for the supernatural grace (unmerited favor) and mercy of God, Who enables every dawn’s waking at 3am finding oneself in the midst of the living and is still a living being. With God, all things are possible.
The fact is: regardless of questions like, what is the good of being left behind in the land of the living when all its meaning seems to have departed, being alive on earth is a fact to live with day by day over which one is given a responsibility. A believer of God, the Creator and Origin of life, cannot choose to stay or leave unless God has given that option.
So the next question is, what shall I do for the rest of my life on earth, in particular, 2024? The reluctant earth man (in truth a spiritual man) asks God. What next?
Waiting is not possible when there is no certainty of an answer. What if the answer is broadcasted and I miss tuning to the right frequency? What if it comes in a still small voice and the wind that weeps through the leaves is too loud for me to differentiate and discern? What if it comes in a dream and I forget the moment I wake? What if I miss the 3-5am rendezvous on the particular day it comes? There are many “what ifs”. Yet I wait.
At one time one could imagine that time was a bird of no particular consequence gliding slowly passing by my window as I chanced to look outside through a veil dimly. Looking back the last decade I now hear the thundering sound of urgency for redeeming time.
A summary of a decade (of somewhat oblivion on the part of this blogger): 2012 prelude: a decision was made to each pursue a called direction and the way therein. 2013: A harsh tearing asunder legalistic way. 2014: Finally heeded (after three prophetic utterances) and left reluctantly for a strange land in a strange writing mission. 2015: Continued writing with travel to new land. 2016: the same with variation. 2017-2018 Heeded to the call to study academically about God. 2019-2020 making it to full time study on the snow mountain city above the clouds. 2021: returned to a new land and solitude. 2022: Reconciliation and restoration.  2023: Full restoration towards the end. And then an earth life departed just a few days before the year 2023 departed. And seemingly chaos started afresh when crossing over to 2024…
A devastating regret (for me in hind sight): Choosing a passive andante in earth life, spiritually oblivious that the other half was encountering a sudden onslaught by violent turbulent storm apparently too severe for her delicate frame. “You might not listen, or you could react immediately without thinking through, and not asking the Holy Spirit for direction. As for me, I’d rather stay in the supernatural peace of Jesus and follow His guidance step by step.” She said this to me, too late (?) or perhaps I never really listened until then.
How to describe someone who is like the psalmist in Psalm 1 (her all time favorite to the end), so firmly, deeply grounded and rooted (planted by God) by the stream of living water, walking so close to the Lord that beautiful flowers bloomed, lovely fruits birthed so naturally from her in all seasons, and healing leaves remaining lush and green, and forever whole and young in spirit, soul and body?
Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 The Value of a Friend
9 Two are better than one, Because they have a good reward for their labor. 10 For if they fall, one will lift up his companion. But woe to him who is alone when he falls, For he has no one to help him up. 11 Again, if two lie down together, they will keep warm; But how can one be warm alone? 12 Though one may be overpowered by another, two can withstand him. And a threefold cord is not quickly broken.
A last question: How to live through a grief such as this? No words. All words have fled. But there is a song that we have both sung together countless times in the preceding six months, and the last song that I sang to her the night before she left with Jesus, her one and only love.
Blessed Assurance – Jeremy Riddle | Worship Circle Hymns:
Lyrics: V1 Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine O what a foretaste of glory divine Heir of salvation, purchase of God Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood
Ch1 This is my story, this is my song Praising my Savior all the day long This is my story, this is my song Praising my Savior all the day long
Tag All the day long All my life long
V2 Perfect submission, perfect delight Visions of rapture now burst on my sight Angels descending, bring from above Echoes of mercy, whispers of love
V3 Perfect submission, all is at rest I in my Savior am happy and blessed Watching and waiting, looking above Filled with His goodness, lost in His love
Ch2 This is our story, this is our song Praising our savior all the day long This is our story, this is our song Praising our savior all the day long
2024-01-16
P/s: an effort to grow avocado trees from two seeds in 2022 and never completed
2022-06-06
2022-07-07
2022-10-17
20221110 avocados outgrown the pots and had to be given away. I never know if they have thrived in the outdoor.
This is a simple greeting to say “a wish for happiness for you”, wherever you are at this time. We have hardly kept in touch with each other for years and perhaps even decades. So why this sudden short December 2023 greeting for happiness only?
Last night I watched a movie of a boy who wished for a dog for Christmas and instead he accidentally said that he wanted to “be/bee” a dog, instead of he wanted a dog, while wishing, he became a dog, for sometime until his crush (a girl from school) wished that the boy became a boy again. The lesson is: we just have to watch what we say. One slip of the tongue can bring lots of trouble. The boy had an adventure, good and bad, while being a dog. Most of all he learned responsibility, courage and love for others. By the time he reverted to being a boy he was changed in his hitherto rather uncaring and self-centered attitude towards his parents and others, including owning pets, and especially a dog friend.
Looking back, I realize the kind of unwanted consequences out of the wrong words uttered carelessly, often without thinking of others. Words are like water. Once we simply pour it out onto the ground it cannot be gathered back into the container. It will run away. We cannot retrieve the same water once it is poured into a pool of other water. ..
I wanted to say a good wish to you but it ends up I am talking about the power of word again in this random thinking out loud. At least I put it in writing and post it here, wishing that you will perchance read this letter to you.
Last night I recalled a verse I received eleven years ago around this time. “Love does not demand its own way.” It is a painful yet rewarding verse. Look it up.
Haven’t you had the same experience? Finding some words hide themselves. No matter how much you try to coax them to show up they just stay silent, distant, unconcerned with your spur of inspiration and urgency to write down something or else when the moment pass you would miss the sacred call.
It is not easy to discern these moments as they tend to be fleeting, like the words themselves in hiding, often not even in any trace of your memory, making it even more difficult to recall.
I find it most difficult when it comes to expressing a feeling of love. Of course it is easier when the object is not really someone you really deeply love to the point that you can exclude all others.
For example, you can love your pets. But you don’t exclude others. You can love your family. But you don’t others too. There are four kinds of love at least. You can love your mate, your family, your friends, each of which (category) in a different way and level (depth). One higher kind of love if God’s kind of love (Agape) for those who believe in God.
Yet, there is a kind of love which cannot be put in a box or categorized. It cannot even be expressed in words. Because the words for such love tend to hide themselves. It is similar to Agape love but it is not exactly that selfless. It involves self and yet not selfish. It is a willingness to give without asking for any return. It is not asking for any gratification of any kind. It can be a form of “care-giving” without any monetary or any physical reward. It also does not confer you with any saintly award. The recipient may not even be related to you. When the needs come to your attention you just accept the invitation to help. You are not obligated but you are willing to give your time/life and your resources, and give up your utmost comfort zone for someone.
The words that I have used to describe this love are inadequate because some of the crucial words are in hiding somewhere and cannot be found or retrieved. And there is no point to reset. Why bother to know what category or box to place it?
In a way, a mother is also a “caregiver”. She doesn’t have to go all out to care for you but she does it anyway. Many people categorize that in the “preconditioned-automated-instinct box’. It is not so in real life. Some mothers do abandon their children. Many women are “caregivers” to unrelated persons too.
This is for all women who are faithful “caregivers”. Since I find no adequate words to describe your kind of “love” and am unwilling to put it in a box, I would say this, “May the Lord bless you with good health, long life and happiness!”
Word Spaces 
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