A lotus grows in muddy water for a long time, rises above the surface to the light of the sun, blooms beautifully unsullied for three days only in the morning, and leaves seeds; this is a lotus’ life journey.
Being with my mother, I thought getting very old must be a lonesome journey with constant declining physical strength, outliving a spouse, siblings and even the oldest son one after another. I’m not sure the love from the loving loved family members could have sufficed my mother's loneliness but hope it eased her who tended to be suffering in silence. She showed with her attitude that pains and aches with age is something we must get along with self management, medication if necessary, smiles and sense of humor.
My mother liked hand-sewing. In her late years, she made cushions, table center, tissue-box cover, or pouch, out of the scrap of yuzen-dyed kimono cloth which was used to my sister’s kimono and mine.
|A pouch with bottom gusset|
passing away, I have not been overly sad or lonely but have void in my mind and
that void has been filled warmly by my family, especially by the bright-eyed innocence of
|at 13- month|
|His favorite summertime pastime in the crocodile pool|
She runs, jumps, spins, and pedals!