I have touched the face...

I have touched the face

of a young boy

(10-13 years old?)

whose face had been so badly burned...

just one nostril hole

and one small (1 cm...or less) hole

for a mouth

We fed him the rice soup

through a straw

His face--it felt hard

like one solid piece

Touch the right cheek

and all moved

"He can't talk," they said

But, even with my poor language skills 

I discovered he could

After gently wiping his face

putting on some antibiotic cream

He said (muffled), "duzi tong."

"What?" "Your stomach hurts?"

(Is that when we sent someone for the rice soup?)

After eating

that pain seemed to ease

Later..."shou tong"

And I looked at his hand...

The burns or scars

had curled it

We rinsed off the dirt and soot

in the warm water

Were those bones I saw--sticking out through the skin?

We gave him some pain killer...

(nurse-friend and teacher-friend came well prepared!)

popped 1 or 2 through that small mouth opening

followed by liquid...

I got angry at the crowd standing around

(Not 'ranting angry' or 'yelling angry' but...)

They slowly gathered

a quiet semicircle--10, 20??

I asked if they wanted to help?

No response

And I think I eventually invited them to leave

suggested they should

if all they were doing was standing around to watch.

And I remember trying to point out

"No, he can talk..."

I wished they could see him as a person, 

worthy of compassion.

I didn't live in that city

Just got to be a part of a few hours

in the ongoing story.

I couldn't not get involved.

Just a short time before, in my town, I had held back

not gotten very involved

and a different homeless man had died.

Earlier 

others had tried to help this homeless boy

find him a place to live

But he didn't want to stay there

Then they heard about the fire and the burns

It was cold, it was winter

It seems he had been pushed into the fire

that several had made to keep themselves warm

Later

They continued to try to help

Kept taking him food

Tried to get him to a hospital,

but the hospital wouldn't take him in, 

without family to sign for him

One day, some official department

came for him in a truck

He was loaded into the back

(and I can't write how it was described...tears come)

My friends tried to follow up

were generally brushed aside

Until, one day

they heard a "fantastic" story....

He had been sent on a train to where his family was

Everything was great

The boy had told them so many things

The story...so 'fantastic'

we suspect

the opposite had happened

Why do I tell this story? Why today? (It is a story from the fall of 1996.) I don't know. Maybe just because I remembered, and I'm processing. And maybe because...he deserves to be remembered, his life is worth remembering. I wonder who else remembers him. I wonder about his family. I wonder...

There is so much sadness to this story. And yet there is beauty too--several people stepping in, doing what they could, seeing a person, looking into his eyes, speaking, offering compassion and dignity. It didn't seem to end the way we had hoped. But we were, and we are formed and blessed in the process. 

I had the privilege of touching his face that day, of looking into his eyes, of talking with him, of trying, along with others involved, to love him as best we could. The incredible privilege of that day...

A Deeper Remembering

I'm so glad to have seen you today

I was walking out by the river

There for quiet

Alone

And pondering

But sometimes

Quiet and pondering can welcome interruption

Especially when it's an old friend

That I don't get to see too often anymore.

I hear my name being called

Look back to see you running toward me

Panting

Telling me how long 

You've been trying to catch up

Not quite sure if it was me

"You're thinner than before"

(Why she wasn't sure if it was me or not.

Thank you for noticing

Still far to go)

"Is it because it's hot?

Don't want to eat?

Can't get the food down?"

I laugh

(Is that really a thing for some people? 

Not for me)

No. Intentional. 

We chatted

I had thought to find a time to tell her

The decision

"Can I ask you to keep a secret?"

(It's not 'out' yet)

But yes, I can

She's come to me with secret things too.

I told her of my decision

And the recent journey

Asked about her

Her husband--ptl, they're not finding any more cancer

Her daughter--uni. entrance exams in two days, stress

And she--has had something like anxiety attacks ever since last fall

After her husband's diagnosis...treatments.

Later, she went to use the public toilet, while I waited outside

looking in through the entrance, 

I suddenly see her with a questioning look,

Looking up at the sign

Had walked into the men's room...

I wanted to take a picture of her face, her posture

(I'm laughing now)

And suddenly I remembered

Another bathroom picture

Many years ago

I reminded her when she came out

"Do you remember?"

She had dropped something in the squat pot at my house

And somehow I thought it was funny

To take her picture

Playing in the toilet

There she was, telling me not to take it

That I was a brat

But I did

(I think she's shaking her finger at me, and laughing, in the picture)

"What did I drop in there, my phone?"

"What?" I said, "Don't you know, we're old

That was when we were young.

Cell phones didn't exist yet then!"

I don't know what she dropped in there.

I wonder if I still have that photo somewhere

Not too long ago she sent me a different photo

The time I gave her a haircut

Can't believe she let me

I wonder if she liked it!

(chuckling)

We parted ways

I got on my bike

She walked back home

And suddenly the memories started

And I wanted to cry

This one is definitely different

All the memories, through the years

with one person

She was a friend from the beginning

Helped me clean the first house

Spent hours there those first days

Helped me find newspaper to line the cupboards

Find shops

Shop

We stood on my desk, moving it around the living room

Stencilling my walls

How many times did she invite me to share a meal with her family

Especially during traditional family holiday times

It was on that first trip to a countryside school

That we discovered a similar sense of humour

We've been kidding with each other ever since

When her daughter was young

And she saw evidence of "crazy"

She had 'proof' her daughter caught it from me

Isn't there a picture of her laying on my bed.

(Chuckling again)

"Don't think so much"

"It sounds like you're wanting to do something bad

you're so nervous about talking to the principal,

but this is good"

I think she helped me design what became my beginning-of-term speech

Trying to figure out how to maintain control 

In a class that was more active than they were used to

I attended her wedding

A bridesmaid, actually

I tried to encourage the revellers 

To leave their apartment

On their wedding night

No luck, they were there all night

She told me the next day

"Can you pray for me she said"

There in the hospital

Green paste of some sort smeared around her nipples

Concerned for the milk that wasn't coming

The times she want secrets kept

The privilege of being one of the few

Who could share the journey.

Hep C that wasn't responding to medication

But couldn't tell anyone

Worried about the political uproar it might cause

Would folks be worried that she, too, 

Would try to get money from the hospital

(the blood buying scandal that made international news)

The incident in the school leadership

She could have been vice-principal

But the false accusations that came

How devastated she felt

And her husband's cancer

Carrying the load of

Travelling to be with him in another province

Then back to teach

And be with her daughter

(last year of high school)

Not telling her daughter what it was about

Not telling his mother

A load to bear

A journey to walk

Alone

She's strong

She's tough

And yet she's soft, gentle, caring, and fun!

She sees a need and helps

I remembered the time she popped over, saw I was sick asked what she could do

I asked for bananas

She brought them quickly

Was it that time, or another

She brought her mom's chicken soup

("And if you have a chesty cough, 

you prepare it by steaming 'the blue part' of the chicken.")

She first introduced me to ginger tea

And she cares about her students

Cares about thinking

Cares to be a teacher that thinks and grows

And yet gets so tired, so bogged down

In a system where most don't. 

We started teaching in this school the same year

I left the school six years later

She went on

Became a grade leader--over 100 teachers

Respected

Yet had the courage to refuse that

Drop that position

When she could see it costing her mental health

In later years

We don't see each other often

But always, at least on Christmas

Christmas Eve, or before, or later

I'll get a call

She'll pop in

Bringing a Christmas and birthday

Gift and card

And I'll have a Christmas gift and card for her

And maybe her family

I suddenly realized today

Usually I can know I'll see her now and again

And then there is the fullness of the relationship

And all the memories

But 

Soon I won't see her

What will it be like to 

Leave the person

And all the memories behind

(Tears falling, again, rolling down my cheeks, over my lips)

I'm not even sure why it's hitting me so hard

Maybe with a combination of other things

Ah, but I'm thankful 

An early friend

Who did so much

To welcome me

Explain culture

Introduce me to 

Ideas, foods, people

Share life

Share her heart

Years ago, about 20, I was asked

Maybe it was that she asked me

"How long are you going to stay in Pt?"

Not sure why I gave the answer I did

Who could have known

"I'm going to stay here until your grandchild is taking me for walks by the river,

calling me 'Grandma'"

I've thought of that often

She wasn't even dating then

But she did

Then got married

Had a child

The child has grown...

But not yet...it would be at least another 10+ years

Before there is a grandchild to walk by the river

I guess I won't see that day after all

But we came pretty close.

Interesting

Both of these 'rememberings' (today's, and the "I remember" post) happened on and after a walk on that nice path by the river

The earlier one was many short vignettes, people, students usually, 

Known for a shorter time, and a few significant moments coming to mind.

Today's--one person, and our long history. with many, many memories

Twenty-four years since I first met her

I wonder how many different 'flavours' of remembering and grieving I'll taste in weeks and months to come.

I wonder if that river path will become a very special place

Much like the front end of my journey here--how I used to walk back and forth across the 'man xian' bridge.

I Remember...

I Remember

The day she told me how her dad 

had tried to sell her

How tiny was his house, 

and how sad the story of his mom being tricked away

The day I found out 

he was suicidal, 

and homicidal

His story--the teacher beating him on the head in grade 4

Telling him off for his dad's odd and irritating behaviour

I Remember

The walk to that village

So many times

Each time not quite sure of the way

But sniffing it out

More than the walk

The people in that home

A rare place that treated me as 'normal'

Let me sit up there in the loft above the pigs

Chopping the feed

While we chatted

The walk away from the village

With another woman

Her analogy 

Rain "like diarrhea" that day :o) 

Making vegetable tofu

EATING that tofu

(Even if I stayed, 

those memories are long in the past, 

an era gone by)

I Remember

A me that was young and idealistic

Brimming with enthusiasm

And energy

I Remember

The man left by the river

I had to try to help 

Because earlier

Someone else

I hadn't

And he died

I Remember

Jack's older brother

How wrong it was

That he died that day

On the bus, halfway home

Hearing there had been an explosion

And some of my students lost their fathers

I Remember 

Things shared in grief groups

The stories of pain

The times it was the first time

They had had a chance to grieve

The day I was concerned about all the pain

But then asked

And remembered

No, this is good

Very good

I Remember

This thought trail will continue

And I will keep remembering

Until I remember no more. 

I wonder what new memories 

will be created 

in decades to come

The grieving begins...

And so... the grieving begins

What will it be like
To not walk these streets anymore
To not see the simple shops
To not be able to get to a grocery store
Or buy medication
Or fruit and flour
Within a 5 minute walk

What will it be like
To not always be noticed
Get the double-takes
Hear people talk about me as I walk by
To not have 3 different people greet me
On a 15-20 minute walk to work

Small town living has it's advantages
And disadvantages.

I'm going to miss
That Ratan chair and table set
My balcony garden
All those peace lilies
My innovative planters
My bright, open and full-of-plants office
My kitchen
My living room sofas
The bookshelves
All the little efforts made to make a home
And now I will leave the home

Maybe I should focus on the parts I DON'T like
Then it will be easier....
Yeah, I'm not going to miss the water stains that never got fixed
The electricity that seems to be faulty
I'm especially not going to miss the noise--in the house and out
And such a hard time to find quiet and beautiful places to walk

This is all about surroundings, things.
What is bigger, is the people.

What I love
The crazy openness of relationship
That is what it is with my colleagues
M.A. says I create community
and invite vulnerable relationship
Wherever I go
I don't need to worry about not finding it in the future
I know I already have it with some friends
Suddenly I catch a vision of creating it
in new places, once again.

But people
Their stories
Their homes
These are also the 'reels' that play in my head
The individual vignettes
So many
What a privilege
To have been allowed into their lives
To be trusted
To have shared the journey
At some pivotal and painful times

These encounters
Have marked me
Etched something on my soul