月圓人缺

It was a silent ceremony. Just me, and my cat who darted back and forth on the corridor and was unusually excited (or agitated?) the entire morning. I cooked in silence, my head was spinning from yet another rough night of sleep. In the background, I played that beautiful song: 但願人長久 "may we be together for ever".

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The song describes the moon, a metaphor for life for it has it's shades, waning, moments of brightness and fullness, moments of hiding and invisibility. Today, the moon may be full, but I am sadly incomplete, lacking, and so empty. 

I stayed home today, and only told my colleague I wouldn't be going to work because its a "special day". No need to explain why, no news to say how I've been shopping for tonnes of food and am going to cook for invisible people. No need to expose myself to ridicule. Who in this day and age, and at my age, still gets up to cook up a whole spread of food to offer to the dead? 

Bbq Duck, roasted chicken were staples, something I know both my parents (especially dad....) would enjoy. Then I made some snowpea leaves with shrimps, egg with turnip, leek (a vegetable symbolizing longevity), and turnip soup and red bean soup for dessert. Not to mention the dozens of canned foodstuff and drinks I had on offer. I laid it all out and knelt before a portrait of mum and dad together. Who would have thought this day would come so soon? 

What to say? This is the moment when people say something to the dead loved ones. I was lost for words, numb and dumb just as I have been generally these past two weeks. It's like so kind of trauma silenced and hurt me, but I don't know what trauma. I don't know what... I really don't know what, and I didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to say to my own parents. I ended up simply telling them about the offerings, and asked them to look after my brother and his family, especially my nephew. 

I sat on the floor and closed my eyes. At times I wonder to myself why I put myself through this, why I go through these elaborate ceremony and make so much food I have to stuff myself for days on end afterwards. It affects m every time, though admitted perhaps less emotionally. Who will do it for me after I am gone? Who will remember me still? We will see. We will see.

And i remind myself Mum did it, even when she was in poor health, even when she was living alone. And I promised her I would continue to remember and make offerings, more the reason  now because she and dad are no longer around. Maybe one day I will stop doing it all. Maybe one day the significance and me memories will become faint and all will have been a distant, distant people I once knew... 

I was exhausted, truly exhausted after it was all over. After a quick lunch, I went to lie down. My body was heavy and I fell ill and quickly fell asleep...

A friend wrote me and invited me to go to her place to have dinner with her "friend". They both know the significance of this date, the date when the moon is full, the date when you gather around a table and share a meal and good company. They knew I would be alone tonight.

I was truly hesitant at first, just wanted to avoid seeing and being around people, but they insisted (and have been telling me to go for some  time). And in a way I was glad I left the confined of my house and spent the night with friends.

We ate, had hot pot and grilled chicken, which are two fond memories from my childhood. We talked about foods back home, about traditions and family, about travels and growing up. It was a nostalgic trip down memory lane, and felt pleasant as we share the same culture and know what it really means (what it really means and what it does to you...) to lose a loved one. 

My friend brought out a pack of moon cakes. I looked at the name and address of the pastry shop, which both seemed so familiar. 

"Tamshui...?" I asked.The town where mum used to work. The street was the one she used to take every day going to and coming from work. I know that pastry shop. It's the same one where she and I bought dozens of pastries for brother's wedding to gift to the in-law's side of the family (per tradition). 

I tasted that soft, sweet taste of lotus paste and red beans, and my mind brought me back... Mum loved this pastry shop. She loved it. She never was a real sweet eater but made an exception for this shop (and another one in downtown Taipei...). The pastries are handmade, delicate and so fine. They are not greasy and not heavy to the stomach. They leave you with the taste of yesterdays, leave you with memories of the past and childhood. And I tasted that all again tonight. I tasted and remembered again what it feels like to be in the warm embrace of another, to be held by another. It's been far too long. Far too long. In the soft sweetness of that pastry I tasted freedom, and sweet memories of warmth and that rare, rare but wondrous effect of how another human being can touch you, and hurt you. 

I looked out the window at the full, bright moon. The moon is full, but I am incomplete. I feel so incomplete, so lacking, so listless, even in the company of people. I excused myself and hid the washroom to unleash tears that have long been overdue. The moon may be full, but many parts of the love and life I held on to and at times took for granted so, have long died. 

Meaning, I need meaning in my life. Love... as a dear friend told me merely days early on the phone, I need love, a partner who can be true and honest, who can help me fill that void left behind by loved ones who have left my life. 

Otherwise, what is life but an empty and repetitive cycle of  breathing, eating, sh*ting and sleeping? 

One day. One day.