Endless

Endless


The warmest embrace my baby heart knew
Comfort in your arms
And when the firm and secure cradle of your hands placed me
Securely into my crib
And when I woke up to find you gone
Endless sorrow

The brightest smile my childhood eyes desired
Affirmation in your face
As you guided my hand to draw delicate birds
Imagination growing on paper
And when you spoke your praise
Endless joy

The most shaming sound my juvenile ears could brace
Apprehension in your mouth
When you scolded me for my unruliness
Being pruned like a plant
And when you looked my path
Endless guilt

The unspeakable words that had to come from our mouths, mom to son, son to mom
Unsettled in our bodies
When you could not speak
Heart grasping for something
And when you passed
Endless

Four Years

Four Years

Four years ago

You slipped quietly out of this world

Which barely understood your beauty
Worn in the canyons on your face

Set by the strains of smiles and tears

And the trembling hands you offered

To a world that often winced away

Because it did not know how to receive your wonder

And moving forward even though your feet did not follow

Stubborn to chase your heart

Looking on with innocent eyes that sliced the view with a beguiling passion

That saw terror and beauty

Ever searching you were

Even when your body refused to move

I remember that

Baffling and wondrous love

Given to us

Who barely understood your beauty

As you slipped quietly out of this world

Four years ago

Time Does Not Wait

This poem is dedicated to my friend Sonny Manning


Time Does Not Wait

Fast or slow
Up and down
Sideways to sideways
However you decide to move and push, push and pull
Time does not wait
The births and deaths of this reality are dialed into the eternal trajectory of mystery
As the universe expands and spreads out its proud peacock feathers
As the stars that were once magnificent monarchs of the galaxies begin to waste away
The plights of our hearts’ tears and laughter are interwoven into the molecules of God’s soul
Your soul, my soul, God’s soul
Our souls
Move together in time and time does not wait
Because time is time
It is time
And your time is up…down…sideways to sideways…move and push…push and pull
The affect of your being bounces back off of it like a ricocheting bullet
It is mindless and not your father
Time does not wait. Damn it! It does not wait for you!
But sometimes it can fool you
You see…
As you moved through the river of your mother’s birth canal
Time was the water that carried you and pushed you into the wave of air that nestled your skin and filled your lungs
Time was the thing that dragged your heart through broken shards of glass as you questioned why she left you and left you this way
Time and time again it seems to happen like this
Time did not care as your body awkwardly changed to catch up with those seemingly confident ones that walked around as if time had a favorite son
How much time before I am favored and can walk around proud, if not at least unashamed?
And time was there to whittle away on your bones and joints and marrow and flesh while you lay curled up in a fetal position wondering if it was your time to go
Time was there pouring honey over your shaking nerves as your lips met hers for the first time
And the floodgates of your heart opened with the affection that had been locked up in the storehouses for such a long time finally bursting over the dams
You can still see the mist rising above the rush and tender caress in slow motion
In your distant memories
Because you’ve also seen the dam desolate, cracked, and dry like the dessert clay
Remembering how the waters of time continued to push as you watched her float away in its raging rapids
Until the time there was no water left but the tears that rolled down your cheeks
Time introduced you to the vilest of enemies who would pierce your heart with the sharpest of words and bluntest of betrayals
And the closest comrades who would guard your heart with the fiercest of acts and tenderest of embraces
Who sometimes could just as easily switch positions in and of their own time, friend and enemy, enemy and friend
And time washed them away too
Like sand under the tides
One by one if not many by many
War moves through time
Peace moves through time
Life moves through time
Death moves through time
Fast or slow
Up and down
Sideways to sideways
However you decide to move and push, push and pull
Time does not wait. Damn it! It does not wait for you
…
But your soul, my soul, God’s soul
Our souls
Move together through time

Memorial Service

It's 2am and I can't sleep. Too many thoughts running through my head. However, in the middle of my late night turmoil I feel some peace. My mom's memorial service happened earlier this day and I feel she was honored well. I'm so grateful for (my brother) Socrates and (his girlfriend) Kay Kay who worked with dad, and all the friends who helped out with the memorial service, and made it a good day to remember mom by. I am also so very grateful for all the people who came and honored our family with their presence. Thank you. I'd like to, once again, share my words from the memorial service as a tribute to my mom here.


Lesa Ying Kai Wong, my mom, was born December 14, 1945, and grew up in Jakarta, Indonesia. She spoke “Gond dong wa”, “Guo yu”, “Hokkien wei”, “Bahasa Indonesia”, and a little bit of English, and when she did speak English she had an Indonesian accent. Growing up, I never fully appreciated my mom’s diverse cultural background. And to this day I have so many questions about the unfinished stories she would tell me, or about the things that trickled out from her life that evidenced more unspoken stories, things that sparked my curiosity.

I remember my mom telling me about her youth in Indonesia, and how she would catch fruit bats for food. When I was in middle school she taught me some Indonesian words and a tongue twister. To this day I know how to say in “Bahasa Indonesia,” good morning, good afternoon, good evening, and “Ular melingkar-lingkar di atas pagar.” Knowing these things helped me to make my first Indonesian friend in high school, which was very helpful because the first year of high school was a difficult time for me, and any friendship I made felt like salvation from loneliness. She also taught me how to say a few words in “Hokkien wei.” Although I don’t use these phrases much, knowing how to say thank you, you’re welcome, and have you eaten yet in “Hokkien wei,” definitely helped me to feel more comfortable during the lunches at Annie’s former church, Seattle Formosan Christian Church, where I would be able to understand those phrases amongst the conversations of the older Taiwanese people that surrounded me. My mom was also a very good artist. She used to wear these intricate, long beautiful dresses, which I found out later in life, that she had designed and sewn herself. The dress she is wearing in the picture on your pamphlet is probably one of the dresses she designed. I also remember how, in my adolescence, she would draw intricate little birds perched on branches and have me follow steps in trying to draw them. Those moments are some of the most joyful memories of my childhood. Drawing became a skill that I excelled in, a way for me to understand the world, and a foundation for my interest in art. Soon enough, as an adult, I was doing my own sketches as a graphic designer.

Those are only a snippet of the many fond memories I have of her as I grew up, and of the ways my mom has influenced my life. But for now, I’d like to share some things about her that stand out to me the most. When I think of my mom I think of someone who is very beautiful. I remember that even as a little child, I would look at my mom and dad’s wedding pictures and think, “Wow, she looks so pretty, elegant, and graceful.” But there is an even deeper beauty that still speaks to me today in profound ways. One of the most beautiful things about my mom was her tenacity, the ability to keep going on for others.

Our family went through many difficult times. Moving from California to Seattle in 1991, we set up a small watch shop in Beacon Hill and every day my mom sat in that shop, sold and fixed watches, cooked for my brother and me, and tried to make sure we didn’t cause trouble (which more often than not we did). We constantly scraped along, not knowing whether or not we would be able make enough money to pay our rent and bills. And so we worked hard, especially my mom, who was at the shop seven days a week, from early in the morning to late at night. Eventually our shop moved to Chinatown and we did the same thing, sold and fix watches, and even at one point set up a small deli. And every day my mom sat in that shop, sold and fixed watches, served at the deli, cooked for my brother and me, and tried to make sure we didn’t cause trouble. There was also one time where we even set up a dance studio, and my mom maintained that as well. Through all of the changes and difficult circumstances our family went through, my mother was always determined to move on and take care of our family in the only way she knew how, which was to remain steadfast in her hard work, because she loved us. This was my mom.

In 1997 she suffered a serious stroke, which was the onset of her health problems. Slowly her ability to move freely and at will waned, but her spirit didn’t. I remember how after that stroke, her hands became very weak. And although her hands were weak, she would wash the same set of dishes over and over. Sometimes washing those dishes up to three times to make sure they were clean. And even though she wasn’t able to work at the shop anymore, she would do as many things as possible like the laundry (climbing up and down four flights of stairs because the laundry room was so far down in our apartment), vacuuming, making the bed, and other tasks around our apartment in order to take care of us. Many times it was difficult to watch her struggle through the tasks that she used to do with ease, but her determination spoke of an unwillingness to give up on taking care of her family.

However, as time passed by, her body slowly gave up on her, and eventually there was not much she could do but to be taken care of by us. Even so, I believe my mom was always determined to be present for us. Though all she could in the last few years of her life was to lie in bed. Her tenacity was still there. I know this because whenever Annie and I were able to go back to my parent’s home to visit her, she would muster up the strength to greet us with a smile and kiss, hold our hands, and communicate with us through gestures. And though she couldn’t talk, we would be able to see in her face the love she was trying to communicate to us. It spoke of the same tenacity I’ve grown up seeing in her my whole life, which was her ability to be there for others despite any hardship she faced. Whenever we were present with her – she was definitely there for us.

My mom passed away between nine and ten in the evening of January first. When I got the phone call about her passing away I had so many mixed feelings. In some ways I knew it was her time to go home to God, and in other ways I couldn’t believe she was gone. I think part of the reason why I was so shocked by her passing was because of my mom’s tenacity. Earlier I had spent most of the day with her at the nursing home. The nurse would say my mom didn’t have much time, but that she was also a strong woman and there was no telling how long she would still be around. Her body was slowly shutting down, but even in her last moments she was there for me. Although she couldn’t do much, as I spent the day with her and spoke to her, whenever she had the strength she would let me know he heard me. For hours, that last day, as I called out to her, holding her hand, she would open her eyes to look at me, and squeeze my hand. And every time she opened her eyes and squeezed my hand, I saw her love for me and how she longed to be there for me, to be there for our family. Even in her weakest moment it was hard for me to think she would pass away because her spirit was so strong and persistent. So that was my last day with her, and the impression I am left with. That in her weakness she was so determined, and so loving.

To this day I wonder what made my mom such a beautiful, strong, faithful, and determined person. What stories in her life shaped her and made her the way she was? A woman with many skills, many unique and interesting things about her, who had a vast background, and who lived solely for the love of her family. And so I keep wondering, and I hope that the wonder of my mom’s life never fades from my memory. I miss my mom a lot. She’s added so much my life, and I feel like I’m only beginning to realize that in a rich and meaningful way now. But it comforts me to know that she is finally liberated from her sickness. She is flourishing, complete, beautiful, free, and at peace before God’s presence.

Mom, thank you so much for your love. You took care of us and when you couldn’t take care of us you were still there for us. You were always a part of our lives and will still be. I look forward to the day I will see you again. I love you mom. We love you mom.