[Oe List ...] Fwd: OpEd Wednesday August 14

[Jaime R Vergara]

As we continue to celebrate Jan U's completed life (thanks Dorothea for the photo with Abe), I thought I might share with you some reflection at my little patch of geography in the W. Pacific, writing from China.


The usual caveat: curious, welcome; not, see you at the bend.


Jaime


j'aime la vie


Yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today, participate. In all, Celebrate!





To: editor <editor at saipantribune.com>
Sent: Sun, Aug 11, 2013 11:37 am
Subject: OpEd Wednesday August 14



Natalis et Fatalis
 
We are making a big deal about August being the month with the most number of birthdays in my immediate relations beginning with mine on the first, and my er lao po on the thirtieth.  In between, a neural-challenged daughter turns 21 over pizza on the 10th, a sister makes 59th on the 12th, first daughter turns Four-Oh on the 16th while her son who might also be neural-challenged turns 6 on the 18th, a sister-in-law makes the eternal Pinay age of 29, and my er lao po makes Six-Oh. 
 
Two in the immediate circle on the autism syndrome in August makes the month our A-month!
 
Meanwhile, as the swirl of greetings and salutations fly around and about within the family, Jan Ulangca at 78 who just went into Chemo, one of five we light candles for on our ledge mentioned in our May piece on A candle for Janice ("I am not dying, I am dancing") made her “beautiful day, happy to be here” statement a week ago, and we realized the natalis et fatalis are just two sides of the same coin.  It is the journey and the pilgrimage in between that counts.
 
The beautiful day, happy to be here phrase comes from a Seattle-based author and editor Jane Lotter who died at the age of 60 last month from cancer but took time to write her own obit, saying with humor and wit that the few advantages of dying of cancer is that you have time to write your own obituary.  The obit went cyberspace viral.
 
Being now on 20 days of gruel (oatmeal for breakfast and arroz caldo con chicken and mushroom bullion for lunch and dinner) after contracting gastroenteritis from a cross-country trip from the northeast to the southwest, we are only too conscious of the cutting edge of our own mortality even as we quietly made our 68th turn the first of the month.  
 
We have also come to appreciate the Chinese yin-yang to life and death, the latter being a celebration of the life that preceded it, thereby, not necessarily to be grieved but to be completed.  I often wondered why families burn incense on the one hand, and play mahjong on the other.  It is because, as the living of one’s life is not full outside the relationship with others, the others are also equally obligated to conclude one’s life at the hour of one’s death.  Why, they even had paid wailers at one time as part of the orchestrated scenario of one’s sending off!
 
We recall all these as eldest daughter Kristina outside of Chicago marks her Four-Oh, and my grandson Liam blows 6 candles, are joined by Bay Area second daughter Teresa in the candle lighting part.  I remember them both as I prepare to meet my classes this semester in a week’s time, printing English songs as part of their oral English encounters.  One of those is Satchmo’s classic rendition of What a Wonderful World.  Louis Armstrong’s voice is now complemented by a Chinese singer who sings the song in her EnglisCh pronunciation, a point I stress in my class to encourage speakers not to worry about their grammar, accent, and intonation.
 
Most of us know the words to the song, which I quote in full because it expresses better my sentiments this month in the natalis et fatalis of kin and loved ones.  I may not have excelled in the traditional role of fathering, but my children are clear that their lives are lived in a wonderful world.
 
I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom, for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
 
I see skies of blue, and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, dark sacred night
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
 
The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces, of people going by
I see friends shaking hands, sayin', "How do you do?"
They're really sayin', "I love you"
 
I hear babies cryin', I watch them grow
They'll learn much more, than I'll ever know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
 
Yes, I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Oh, yeah!
 
Green trees and red roses abound, but the skies blue are often gray and gloomy in our smoggy city, and the rainbow from Saipan is tall in Tinian but, unless I mosey over to Dalian, “the colors of the rainbow” resides more in my imagination than as a sight to see.  Nevertheless.
 
There lies the key; it is the thinking to one’s self that one lives in a wonderful world, a radical leap of faith that chooses to see life as trustworthy, however it comes.  We chose to see the wonder, making life a choice rather than just a happenstance!  Our Seattle author even found it wonderful that she could write her own obituary.
 
So, to all candle blowers this month, enjoy a wonderful world!  Oh, yeah!


Jaime Vergara
pinoypanda2031 at aol.com

yesterday, appreciate; tomorrow, anticipate; today. participate. In all, celebrate!




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