The Plague and the Aftermath

So yesterday, I felt like I was dying at school. Or rather, I described it as going through everything associated with a hangover, without the benefit of having gotten drunk the night before. I got cheated. I came home as soon as possible from work, took a bath and lay in bed for most of the evening.

My phone went off around 7pm and I was surprised when I saw my parents' number come up on Caller ID. I was even more surprised when the first words out of my mother's mouth were, "Sarah, are you okay?" I thought, Do I sound that bad? How did she know I felt like crap? and blurted out, "No, I'm feeling kinda sick," before I knew it.

Apparently though, it was less a testament to my mother's observational skills as it was to her superstitious-ness. She had had a dream with me in it and was worried, so she wanted to check in and make sure I was all right. Normally, I'd kind of make fun of her for that kind of thing, but just earlier in the day, I had been thinking about how it'd be nice if someone was at home to take care of me. I'll admit it, I wished I had my mom around.

So, we had probably one of the best talks in my life: frank, unconfrontational, caring. It was a surprising. I spent the rest of the evening feeling much better.

God, what do you write?

I've been slowly preparing myself to say goodbye to my san-nensei in the last month. I think I've been doing all right. I even told Travis last night when we were on the phone talking about it that I was feeling better about it because I was certain that I would still keep in touch with my some of my students after they graduated. Getting a chance to talk to and hang out with my students that graduated last year in recent days has been helping.

But I pointed out that it was still not the same as getting to see them every day. Pretty soon their hallway will be filled with different students and the transfer will be complete.

And now, this morning, the teacher in charge of sado-bu (tea ceremony club) gave me the stuffed animals that were to be their graduation present and asked me to write a message on them. She told me I had until the end of 3rd period.

It's more than half-way through 1st right now, and I haven't gotten any farther than writing their nickname on the first doll. Anyone who's met me, or reads this blog for that matter knows that I'm rather verbose, but today, I feel speechless. I don't know what to say to them.

I don't know how to say goodbye.

I thought I'd gotten better at it after 2 and a half years. I thought that I'd know the right things to say, to write when the time came.

I don't.

Do I try to be funny and light-hearted? Serious and inspiring? Sweet and nostalgic? What memory do I leave them with, after all the memories they've given to me?

Missing You

Pin likes to tease me about growing up in Seattle and wonders how I'm still alive, because "doesn't everyone kill themselves in the winter?" This year, I spend most of my time with friends from the warm, sunny places of the US: California, Florida, Hawaii. It was with not unreasonable envy that I looked over their photos from Christmas break and saw sunny, clear blue skies, while I sat stuck indoors because of a foot or more of snow. But that was freak cold weather, at least for Seattle.

The last few weeks though have presented me with the cold, gray, overcast/rainy days that I come to expect from the winter season. The days I was familiar with. The ones of my childhood.

Today was another such day. It assailed me with an overpowering sense of homesickness. Or maybe not homesickness as much as Pat-sickness. I was looking through my photos and I saw some from Christmas '07 and then ones from this past Christmas. I can't believe how quickly the time between them passed. All those missed months, moments, memories...

I know that it's my choice to stay out here, and that it will continue to remain my choice to stay away, but sometimes it sucks. It sucks that my best friend is half the world away and that I talk to him infrequently at best. It sucks that he isn't here to see all the things that make up my life in Japan, or meet the people that populate it. That we can't go out for a cup of coffee or a drink as our ritual and share our troubles with life and love.

But, ever-the-optimist, I search for the silver lining, no matter how elusive it is, especially in clouds as slate-grey as the ones outside. I have hope that our friendship is stronger than the accumulated experiences we share; that we remain connected despite the distance; that we are more than the sum of our parts.

I guess that's the answer to Pin's question. What else would it be but Hope?

A Blood-Red Flower

I know I'm a few days late, but I just thought I'd share some love and my favorite quote on the subject. It's from a book by Olive Shriner:

"I don't know much about love," she said, "and I do not like to talk of things I do not understand; but I have heard two opinions.

Some say that the Devil carried the seed from hell, and planted it on the earth to plague men and make them sin; and some say that when all the plants in the garden of Eden were pulled up by the roots, one bush that the angels had planted was left growing, and it spread its seed over the whole earth, and its name is love.

I do not know which is right, perhaps both. There are different species that go under the same name. There is a love that begins in the head, and goes down to the heart, and grows slowly; but it lasts until death, and it asks less than it gives. There is another love, that blots out wisdom, that is sweet with the sweetness of life and bitter with the bitterness of death, lasting for an hour; but it is worth having lived a whole life for that hour.

I cannot tell, perhaps the old monks were right when they tried to root love out; perhaps the poets are right when they try to water it. It is a blood-red flower with the color of sin, but there is always the scent of a god about it."

Happy Valentine's all, I hope you appreciate (and smell) love in its many forms.