Remembering her mother, examining the life path her mother had taken, how much she’d, given to her, and her siblings, translated…
For the Slightest Chance, My Mother Went the Distances, in the Possessed Man Who Claimed to be the Reincarnate of the Deity, Jigong, Held Her Breaths, as He’d Performed the Spells onto Her………
How My Parents Met
That day, my mother exited the tour bus, dragged her tired body, slowly, moved her way into the house. She’d placed her luggage lightly, onto the wooden bench, then, turned toward the kitchen, poured herself a huge glass of ice water to quench her thirst. She’d stopped a bit, then, said to me, with great disappointment, “I didn’t dream about anything”.
A few weeks ago, the elderly woman next door came over with an invitation, that the man in charge of the borough was hosting an autumn trip for the neighbors, two days one night, the destination was the Deity Temple in Muzha. These past few years, my mother’s arrhythmia had gotten worse, and out of the year, there would be one, to two fainting spells she’d had, she’d worried about the family worrying over her, and would always told us lightly, “I just need to lie down for a few minutes, and I’ll become, lucid once more.” The doctor told her not to tire herself out, to avoid the long trips, and so, she’d, stopped going on the longer trips. And yet, this trip to the deity’s temple, she’d insisted on attending, only because the elderly woman next door said that it worked wonders, and had often shown up in people’s dreams, to help them resolve their difficulties.
My youngest brother was mentally ill, in twenty years, my parents had sought out an assortment of experts, there wasn’t any treatments, but my mother wouldn’t give up, kept believing, that one day, a cure will, present itself. But, my mother’s trials of life had, stemmed from her marriage.
It was quite dramatic how my parents met, back then, it’d been twenty years since the Nationals fled to Taiwan, it’s during the era where we’d done the laundry by hand, my mother who’s at the prime of her life, started doing the laundry early in the morn at the small creek before their village with the other young girls. The river poured out to the Daja Stream a few kilometers downstream, the spring sun shone on the land, the twenty year old man just fed the two, three hundred egg producing ducks, was on his way home on his bicycle, was stopped by the giggles of the young women, and, the young woman turned around, and smiled at me, it’d, deeply attracted him to her.
The youth couldn’t wait to get home to tell his own mother, of how he’d met the one, and his mother actually had people asking around, to see if the woman was, willing.
“Your grandmother heard, the eldest son, a duck breeder, with a dozen younger siblings, she’d become, stunned, and turned it down without a second though”, many years ago, my mother smiled and told of how my maternal grandmother had, turned away the matchmaker.
In a blink of an eye, eight years passed, both were still unwed, the matchmaker came again, with the man’s will to marry, and my grandmother sighed, and said, that fate allowed for the marriage to happen, “Destined, to be their family”.
Their Most Priceless Possessions: Two Wooden Chests
In their forty years of marriage, my mother spent half of those days in trials.
Shortly after they were wed, there was the disagreement about the amount of assets that were inherited, my parents were chased out by my second uncle. And, the newlywed started receiving handouts to make ends meet, in the time when they were economically unstable, and chased by rents, they’d moved around a lot, and the two wooden chests became their most prized possession, it was the dowry given to my mother by her own parents.
In order to change the household situation fast, my parents worked endlessly, because she was working too hard, my mother started developing herpes around her waist, and, even though it was painful, she’d still not allowed the chances of making a dollar pass by, leaving behind that bad root of the illness, untreated, she’d coughed hard, and, became incontinent. Being conservative, she’d sought out the treatment from a female urologist at Veteran’s Memorial, and, as the young male intern who was learning asked all the questions, my mother felt ashamed, and never gone back to the hospital again, and ever since, adult diapers became a part of her life.
illustration from the papers online…
My mother worried endlessly, the children’s school performances, their health, marriage, my second youngest brother-in-law’s many affairs caused my second sister’s marriage to fail, she’d supported her daughter’s decision, and, went against her husband’s back, and acted as the witness to the divorce, lightly, she’d said, “The two families had, severed all ties, we don’t owe each other anything anymore.” That was, the harshest thing she’d ever said in her whole life.
In the elderly years, there were, two things that stayed on her mind, her youngest son’s illness, and, her bookworm daughter’s marriage. Every time there’s the slightest hope, my mother would go the distances, to get the treatments, and, in front of the claimed, deity possessed man, she’d, held her breath, allowed him to cast his spells on her, the saliva, mixed in with the rice wines, spat all over her face, people by her side thought it was disgusting, but she’d, taken that in stride; she’d, taken home the blessed ashes from the incense burned, and, secretly, added into her son’s drinks, and spent tens of thousands of dollars, for the air of the deities to get into her son, and, thinking on it, all of her actions were, beyond foolish, but, it was, a mother’s wishing for a miracle to happen to her own son.
She’d heard that the Guanxi bone reader was extremely accurate, she’d coaxed her daughter to see him, the bone reader pressed down on my palms, said, “when you go out with a guy, don’t eat that much, leave a good impression”, she knew her daughter was just like her, started laughing, and told her daughter who had an amazing appetite, to eat less, to eat less.
Once, during the transition into summer from the springtime, my mother rode across Gang Road in Taichung, it was in March, the poppies were blooming, so brightly colored, orange, it was so beautiful, she’d spoken with awe about it.
This year, the poppies are blooming again, still just as radiant, the road was what it was from before. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, it’d been, thirteen years since my mother had been gone.
And so, this woman had given everything to her family, she’d wanted nothing but her children’s health and their good marriages, and, that is the traditional Asian women’s way, of holding the family together, of showing their love to their loved ones.