A heart of, gratitude, was what this older generation was, passing on, to the younger generations, showing thanks to all who'd, made a difference in her husband's, final, days…translated…
It was a bright and early sun shining morn, my mother and I moved my father's urn out of the bone towers, we'd planned to put him with where the ancestors were. As everything was set, and we were about to set out, my mother turned around, took a, deep bow toward the people who were volunteering for the temple to show her gratitude, told them, "thank you watching out for him!"
I'd asked mum why she said that, she'd responded, "this is a quiet, nice, and clean place, it's easy to see, how the temple took the heart to manage the location; your father loved the quiet from before, he'd been here five years already, he must've been, taken good care of by the people here, don't you think, we should, offer them our, gratitude?" my mother's words, became, like that tiny pebble, tossed into, that lake that was, my, heart.
Five years ago, one day after the passing of my father, we received a call from the hospital he was being treated in, asking about how he'd been. Back then, my father needed chemo every two weeks, and, as the date of his seventh time was approaching, he'd died of hemorrhage in his medulla, we are all sorting through the matters of his final affairs, and none of us called the hospital to cancel his scheduled chemotherapy session.
with a heart of thanks like this...found online
for ALL who'd left a mark on our, lives...
Toward the concerns of the hospital, my mother felt bad, wanted me to accompany her up north, to tell my father's primary oncologist thanks. I'd told her, that I can just go, and save her the trip, but she'd, insisted on coming along.
Early on the morn, we set out from Miaoli, to not halt the oncologist's treatment sessions, we'd arrived at the hospital half an hour before the treatment sessions began, sat out by the waiting area, waited for the man. He'd arrived, my mother told him why she was there, then, bowed to him, "Thank you sir, for taking care of my husband!"
As we walked out of the hospital, my mother looked soothed, "thankful that we made the trip, Dr. Chou (my father's oncologist) is extremely patient, always answered everything we asked; as we'd stopped coming for treatment, he'd even, called to check up on your father, how can we feel at ease, if we'd not made this trip, thanked him personally, and told him why your father stopped treatment? We must be thankful for others' giving to us, to feel the kindness of others, this is the only way we can feel fulfilled in our, lives."
What a good sort of a fulfillment! My mother's words became so sweetly scented, just like, the osmanthus, taking me over.
So, this is on offering thanks, to all who'd helped us in life, and, this is what we must do, and feel, be grateful toward those who'd offered us help when we needed, that way, we would, have no regrets, and we can, feel free too.
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