An Un-Fading Existence

In 2003 I met the love of my life; we were together through trails and joy, made promises, raised children, and in 2012 he left us all too early from sudden electrical heart failure. His first wife worked with her long-time boyfriend/lawyer to prove that her divorce in 2002 was never finalized; I allowed myself to occasionally wallow in self-pity that I had somehow been robbed.

But I wasn’t, I had him. I had his laughter and sometimes tears. I had his love and friendship. There was more wealth in the time we had together and what we shared than any retirement. My mother joked once that ultimately we both got what we wanted as he wanted us to get married and I struggled with the idea of marriage preferring to live together. Ultimately I decided that I believed in him enough to try marriage.

It has been said that true immortality is obtained in what those we leave behind remember of us. His laughter alone will keep many of us going, I still hear it when I do something particularly stupid, like wondering why biscuits are not cooking in an oven that is not on.

One of the things he and I enjoyed together was the fine art of skin-ink. Each anniversary we would get a new tattoo together. One of the first was kanji in red down our left arms that said, “I will never give up on you.” The meaning was important enough that we went to our Chinese cultural center and had the Manager brush them out for us after discussing the intent of the phrase to us. About two years ago I noticed that one of the symbols is fading and since I had the joy of working with someone from Hong Kong I asked her what it stood for; it became a sign and mantra for times to come. What it now reads is “I will never give up.” He is fading from my arm as his pull has faded in my life; what has not left is the strength he helped me build in my own sense of value.

Today even more than two years ago I needed that reminder, I will never give up. I read an old posting and cried that my “Frank” will not be here to get me toast or strawberries. The long-time dream of driving an RV around the country in our joint-memory depraved dotage will never happen without the driver-for-life. The only one who steals my blankets now is the dog he gave me weeks before passing away.

Yet, I am still here.  I feel alone too often, despite people trying to remind me I am not. I close myself off, I do not share, do not open, do not weep without the door closed and water running. That is my doing though, my choice; perhaps simply my way of trying to lessen the coming pain. The last tattoo I allowed myself is seven white cranes on my arm, one for each of those I have lost too soon.

Life has purpose. It may not always bring joy, but there is always opportunity for connectedness. Do not avoid those life brings you in the hustle of daily burdens. Do not draw away from potential joy to lessen the pain when the connection is gone. People are often surprised at the amount of ink I have on me; why? What does an inked individual look like? Are they different, less, younger, fiercer?

Who are any of us?

We are the accumulation of those we have allowed to impact us, and those pieces left behind when we share ourselves with others.

Maxine Hong-Kingston was the inspiration for my first tattoo. In her book Warrior Woman she writes of how Fa Mulan’s father carved the history of her people into her back so that when she faced her enemy at dawn the history of her people would shine through like lace. I was so drawn by the symbolism of that. What do we allow to be carved into us? Who does the light of dawn reveal, what is the image of our lace? We determine each moment who we are, how we respond to what happens not only to us but around us.

I may not ever be a social person, I do not know that I ever was; I do not like to leave my house. But I do care deeply for a great many people and I do not have to leave these four walls to let them know I care. Perhaps more importantly I do not have to lie or try to hide who I am. I am fearful and reluctant and withdrawn. I enjoy solitude and quiet. I prefer email and text messages over phone calls; but written words are lasting, can be thought through, should be thought through, can be looked back on.

I believe in mankind. I am frightened and saddened by many things in the world today. I am overwhelmed with joy each time I see small gestures of kindness not done for cameras or praise, just done from the heart of decency. I have faith that those willing to improve the world are blessed with an un-fading existence by all of us willing to build on their example.