Lead, Kindly Light

One of my friends switched her facebook profile picture today – the new photo gives us a glimpse of what a cute little girl she was when she was maybe four. In the picture, she’s wearing tights – white tights, with some sort of pattern on them. They remind me of white tights I used to have when I was her age – they had little pink hearts all over them.

Even now, I shudder a little inside, to think that I used to wear those tights – that my little legs were encased in… little hearts. Little pink hearts. I hate wearing hearts, to this day. And I think to myself, why did my mom make me wear little pink hearts on my tights? Sigh. Doubtless she thought it was adorable. Blechh.

(pause)

But then I think to myself – a mother who loved her little girl dressed her precious child in tights with…little…pink… hearts. Out of love. My mother loved me, and took care of me–in so many ways, some of which I’m only now beginning to realize and appreciate. And my mom still loves me – and shows it with abundant outpouring – she calls me to just to say hello, pays ridiculous postage to send me dried strawberries and dried pears and the Korean white rice that I like and osmanthus tea, and writes me letters to tell me about her day, and prays for me every day from morning until night, and encourages me and supports me in my dreams, and releases me to God enough to let me run after them.

And as an adult, I may disagree with some of her approaches to things from time to time, and I may get restless under the occasional nagging (although–to be honest–my mom is really great about not nagging too much), but in the end, it’s undeniable – she loves me, quite possibly more than anyone on this earth ever will or could.

So… really. So what about the little pink hearts. I should have worn them with pride. I should have worn them with gratitude. So today – many years later – as I revisit the memory in my mind, I do.

I’ve been feeling more than a little nostalgic this week, though I don’t know why.

Yesterday as I walked into the little town to the west to get a dress altered, I passed a man on the sidewalk. He was maybe 35 or 40, had long and scraggly dirty blonde hair. He wore a faded denim jacket, nondescript jeans, and in general looked like a poster child for the 1980s. He smoked a cigarette, and I caught a whiff of it as I strode past him. It was a sunny day, uncommonly warm, and the air was still. The combination of the cigarette smell, the bright sunshine, and general warmth made my mind zip back to my visits to Taipei as a child. And for maybe two more blocks after that, I felt like I was back in Taiwan, visiting my grandparents with my mom, and living that life, there.

* * *

As I walked back from the seamstress’s shop, I listened to my ipod and some Jay Chou songs played – the ones from the old set, the first huge set I received last April from my guy friend who says, “Jay Chou makes me believe in love.” Every song carries a memory.

Ju Hua Tai – this is one of the first Jay songs that I loved. And I loved it even more when two of my friends surprised me with their own recording of it… they had stayed up until six in the morning to finish it so they could present it to me the following evening. I first listened to their rendition on the bus as we all made our way back from a birthday party. How things have changed since then. The song is bittersweet; it reminds me of the great friendship we all once shared, but it also makes me remember that things won’t ever be the same again – perhaps one day their pieces will get mended back together, but for now, I only have that song to bring the two together again.

Lang Man Shou Ji – this song reminds me of the summer, when I used to get up in the morning and walk down the sunny and semi-crowded sidewalks of Greenwich Village to go to the gym. Down some floors, past the guy cleaning the windows on the door, turn right and past the flower shop and the corner bodega, padding over portions of freshly-hosed sidewalk, past the fire department, turning at the little park, and over to Mercer Street. Those were (mostly) easy days, with plenty of time for thinking.

Mai Ya Tang – the first Jay song I fell in love with, this reminds me of my trip to China. And it reminds me of all the friends with whom I went to China… I listen to it, and the China video plays before my eyes – the Great Wall, the Olympics sites, the hutongs, Hebei and those darling children of migrant workers, climbing Huashan, a lot of adventure packed into nine short days.

Jian Dan Ai – this is the first song I ever learned the Chinese lyrics for. It reminds me of that day that Stan met with me after I finished shopping in Union Square. I went with him to Brooks Brothers to check out the dress shirts, and he taught me how to identify the unique trademark of all BB shirts, visible on the cuff. We went to some random restaurant in the Village just because it reminded him of Hawaii, and we later went to sing karaoke with other friends. In fact, we went to four different karaoke places, looking for a place that had this precise song… and then, of course, we had to sing it together. It also reminds me of giraffes that eat ice cream. And how jian dan ai doesn’t really exist.

Er Shi Er – this David Tao song is laidback in melody but deeply philosophical. It reminds me of hot and sunny days in New York City, busy workdays, and some emotionally chaotic evenings and weekends. I listened to this song a lot while working long hours at the office, and after work as I tried to sort through a host of messy feelings and cope with what, certainly at the time and sometimes even now, I felt was a devastating loss. Ren sheng ou er hui zou shang yi tiao mo lu / Xiang shi mei you shi biao de di tu / Bie rang ta men shuo ni gai zhi zu / Zhi you ni zhi dao shen me shi ni de xing fu – In life you may unexpectedly come on an unfamiliar road / Like a map without a key / Don’t let them tell you you should be happy with what you have /Only you know what happiness is for you.

Hua Tian Cuo – oh, Lee Hom. Such a handsome face, such a great voice, so much talent. This song reminds me of happy times in the City – walking to Union Square or up Lexington all the way into Midtown. It also reminds me of riding the bus from church with TY – the two of us shared headphones and lip-synced our way through this song. Listen to my erhu…

* * *

And tonight, as I sat here by myself, working on my final thesis, I realized that as of today, I am finished with law school classes. I’m done with classes forever. This is such a strange feeling; it hasn’t really hit me yet. And maybe it was the solitude that made me reminiscent, or maybe it was the fact that so many people are out of town this weekend and my roommate still hadn’t come home by midnight – but… for the first time in months, I felt lonely again. And I began to miss people who haven’t even left me yet. I miss them because they’re almost gone, though. Just another two weeks and this place is going to empty out, and a new chapter of life is going to begin. I really don’t like change, especially this kind of change. I love my friends too much; they have become so much a part of my life here, and in so many ways, they are family. And how do you say farewell to family?