Working on Living

Posted on July 2, 2025 by hafong

Yesterday was a hard day. I finished reading What My Father and I Don’t Talk About. It was a great read of 16 writers’ essays on their fathers. However, it left me feeling more melancholic than usual. I would still like to read What My Mother and I Don’t Talk About though we had talked plenty. I am sure that she had not told me everything. Now, I can’t ask her. I am still travelling in the landscape of the bereaved. Some days are harder than others. The heat and humidity made it harder yesterday. I know that life goes on no matter how I feel. The world still spins on its axis. The sun still rise and set each day. And so must I – rise to the challenges of living and then rest when tired.

I took my father out for lunch yesterday. I didn’t realize it was Canada Day but it worked out well. At least I can say that’s how I celebrated our country’s birthday when people ask. I’m not big on celebrations. I am a true humbug. I think that came from being an immigrate child of immigrants. We were poor starting out in this country. We didn’t celebrate birthdays, Christmas, New Year, Easter, and Thanksgiving like everybody else. On Canada Day, we didn’t join in the town’s festivities. So I do think that as a child, I must have felt left out, odd, not belonging, etc. etc.

I tried hard yesterday not to languish in my melancholia. I tackled 2 bags of my mother’s clothes laying dormant on the basement floor. It wasn’t too bad, not worsening my mood. The clothes stirred up some good and happy memories of mom in her younger years. Now, I see her vibrant and happy in my mind’s eye. For me, sorting the 2 bags was a big accomplishment and enough for one day.

Today, I am feeling better. The heat is still on but there’s not the humidity/heaviness weighing me down. There is a breeze. I am okay. I went to the gym this morning. Worked the weights. Worked on skipping techniques. Worked on hula hooping. I can talk and hula at the same time. Now to hula while walking. That’s another thing. So meanwhile I am working on feeling social and feeling good. I’m going to sock it to life.

PS. I am also working on the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

Why I Keep Writing 2

Posted on June 25, 2025 by hafong

I would never run out of words on why I keep writing. I write mostly to comfort myself. It’s my soother/pacifier. I never had one as a baby but I probably used my thumb as most babies do. It’s very satisfying. My keyboard/pen and paper are at hand. I’m not dependent on someone else to make me feel better. My experience has been that when I most need help/an ear, no one is available, adding to my distress. It’s no one’s fault.

I’m on a stretch of good days. They came with the rain we’ve had the last few days. We are all connected. What is in one is in the whole, as Caroline Myss says. I’m taking advantage of this easeful flow of energy. Somethimes these moments are fleeting. They could be gone with the next cloud, after lunch. There are no guarantees. I’m making an early start to my day before my head and mind gets polluted and distracted with this and that.

I had a few words here to kickstart a post, took out 2 bags for the garbage and made a start of baking bread. The bread took all morning and a bit into the afternoon. The 6 loaves are cooling on racks. The pans are washed and drying in the still warm oven. My energy and mood are dipping. I am happy with my morning’s work. I will take my father out to the mall for a walk and a coffee. He is worried that he is costing me time and gas. He said he had a dream the other night that my mother gave him heck for causing so much trouble.

That is/was my mother, fiercely independent, not good at accepting help. She didn’t want to make things harder for us by taking up our time. It was difficult to make her understand that she made things harder by not accepting our help. That was how she was and I had to accept it. My father is more receptive and appreciates my company.

I ran out of energy yesterday to finish this post. I’ve lost the flow and good cheer. No two days are equal. The sun is shining. It looks and feels like summer. We had some excitement to start the morning. There was 4 police cars parked along our street. No sirens but I saw a policeman entering a yard a few houses down with a rifle poised over his shoulder, just like on TV. We heard no gunshots. We saw no activity before we left for the gym.

A Celebration Post

Posted on April 30, 2025 by hafong

It’s April 30th, the last day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m happy to be here at a happy ending. I achieved all that I set out to do. I kept it simple. I kept it easy. I showed up almost every day, missing just 3. I tried my best. I had a beginning, a middle and now an ending. It was nice to meet some new friends as well as reconnecting with past ones. What more could a girl ask for?

I’ve had a busy day starting with the gym in the morning. I worked the hula hoop and skip rope into my routine. It’s good to challenge myself with new stuff. I’ll see if practice does make for better. Then it was going for groceries and then lunch with my exercise buddies. You know lunch with the girls can last for a couple of hours. I was home for a few minutes when I got a text from my brother. Dad had fallen in the livingroom while he was there. He couldn’t get up by himself but was not hurt. Still I worried.

I went over to see for myself. He was lucky that my brother was there when he fell and lucky he was not hurt. I asked him to show me how he was on the floor so I can teach him how to get up. Good thing I had such good instructors at the Y gym on functional fitness. Dad was a good pupil. He was able to learn how to get into a position so he could use a piece of furniture to get himself up. After all that we had to go to the mall for a walk and a coffee. We ran into Mom’s coffee friends there and the time just went.

I’m home now, sitting with a chrysanthemum tea and tapping a few last words. I’m tired. It’s been a hard year but it’s been a good April. I’m glad I participated in this UBC. It’s helped me regain some peace and mental strength being here every day tapping on my keyboard and reading others’ offerings. Sorting through ideas, words and feelings have dispelled some brain fog. It’s good to be able to think clearly again. I feel blessed to be here now.

Thank you Paul for giving us this special place.

Make Someone Happy

Posted on April 12, 2025 by hafong

April 12th, not yet halfway mark for the Ultimate Blog Challenge. It is almost 6 months since my mother’s passed. I’ve muddled through it the days, weeks and months. Life does not stop. The world keeps spinning and us with it. My father has done well with little melt downs here and there. The other day I had to remind him that mom is in a better place. She is not suffering any more. He said, but I am.

What can I say to that except that he is not the only one and that he has to find his own way to feel happiness. He, then, said there are no more happy days. I do see his point but being the person that I am, I preached a little. I do believe that no matter how dark we feel, each day we wake up is a gift. I told him that I do not know how to make him happy. I don’t need to tell him that we support him. My sister and I see him every day and takes him to his doctor appointments and outings. My brother takes him for his lab works, lunches and supper with his family every week. He does all the snow shovelling, yard and garden work. He does his grocery shopping and fixes whatever needs fixing in the house.

I reminded my father that he is doing remarkably well at 93. He has all his wits. He is still looking after and cooking for himself. He doesn’t pee or poop his pants. He can still walk, can get in and out of the tub by himself. I pointed out that he can and has changed for the better. He is talking to us now. I reminded him that it has not been easy for us when he has not talked much with us in the past. I told him I appreciate hearing his stories and family history that I’ve never heard before.

I must give my father credit for bouncing back quickly and sadness passed another time.

To My Younger Self

Posted on April 8, 2025 by hafong

I’m a week into the April Ultimate Blog Challenge. So far, so good but I’m hitting that sticking spot of what to write next. I’m also into April Love 2025 photo challenge on FB and Instagram. Yesterday’s word prompt, bucket list worked in getting me started. So I’ll see if the prompt, to my younger self works today as well.

It’s not easy to address myself. If I was to have a conversation with my younger self, I would tell her not to be so serious all the time. I would tell her that she is a child and this is her time to play, make mistakes and learn. I would tell her she’s not all that powerful, that not everything is her fault. She is not responsible for the world, everybody and everything in it.

It’s not easy to offer love and compassion to oneself. It’s even harder to forgive. I hold myself to a higher measuring stick than others. But if I could, I would tell my younger self I love her and am proud of all her efforts. I would tell her to take things as they come. Make it simple. Make it easy. It will all turn out.

THE WOMAN NEXT DOOR

Posted on October 25, 2019 by hafong

I’m sleepless again. After wrestling unsuccessfully with the mattress, I decided to give it up. So I’m here, sipping my Orange Pekoe tea, trying to tap myself into ease and sleepiness. It is about the enigma, the woman next door again. I tell myself that there is clearly something wrong with her. Yet she has enough wits about her to run a business out of her house and a talent to irritate the hell out of us.

The frustration comes from not finding a solution/resolution to the problem. It’s difficult to conduct a conversation, never mind to enter into a negotiation with someone who makes her own rules/laws. Who does not allow you a voice at all. Who talks/yells over what you have to say. Who lies. I guess she could be called a bully.

What has she done this time? It’s the same thing – her obsession that she has rights on our property. She doesn’t like how we do our yard. She planted little spruce trees on our property next to the raised bed that she doesn’t like either. She ‘weeds’ and digs little trenches to ‘drain’ rain runoffs on our property. Somethings are just too small, petty and too tiring to fight over. So I had been ignoring all this before. Then she doesn’t like that we use woodchip mulch because it is a fire hazard. We mulched under our cedar trees adjacent to her driveway. Whatever we use, she would push, scrape back when we’re not aware. So we put up some low wire fencing along the trees to prevent her from doing that. We used black (dyed with vegetable oil) wood chip thinking that it’s the colour of dirt and she wouldn’t see. How can anyone object to that since it was on our property and with a fence to keep them from her driveway?

Of course she would see and object. Today I found the posts pulled almost out and the wire netting laying flat on the ground, the mulch pushed back. I took photos. I am not sure as what to do. I could report this to the police as this is clearly vandalism, mischief and destruction of property. But I’ve been dealing with this kind of stuff from her for years. She is ‘something else’ as one could put it. She clearly has a bead on me and knows what gets my goat. She is very clever in this way.

I’ve also been getting smarter about myself, how I let people push my buttons. I don’t like how bodily reactive I am. I don’t like how the blood and thoughts rush to my head and I can’t think anymore. I can only feel – the cortisol coursing through my system and the feeling of helplessness. I’m here taming my thoughts and adrenaline. This is not a bitch session nor a tell-all. I’m trying to find some peace. I’m trying to find some love and compassion for the woman next door. It must be terrible for her to be so obsessed about me, my yard and whatever. Don’t we all need love and compassion?

I want to end on a positive note with a video of Daniel Champagne. We saw him perform live at the Bassment the other evening. He’s travelling across Canada. If he comes to your town/city, do go and see him. His guitar picking and music are out of this world. I came away from it with total body relaxation. I suffer anxiety and high blood pressure. It’s hard to explain but I suffer a hundred deaths of fright getting my blood pressure check. It’s difficult to feel confident about how well controlled it is. I’m always high at the doctor’s (white coat syndrome). The last visit a couple of weeks ago, I registered a reading of 180/90. Eeeek! I’ve come down since then, desensitizing myself each day by taking it regularly. My reading after coming home from the concert was 108/79. Music is good therapy. I have to listen and attend live concerts more often. Forward, ho!

LOVE, HOPE, COPY AND PASTE

Posted on January 21, 2019 by hafong

It is strange how books find their way to me. It is as if they know that they hold the knowledge I’m seeking. You know I’m a serious girl. I’m always pondering about the universe and the meaning of life. I wonder about what is love and hope. Are they verbs or nouns? Can you hold them in your hands and examine their nature? If they’re verbs, how do you go about loving and hoping? Would you get anywheres hoping and loving? Or is it just pining away?

I know I think too much. It would be good if I could lighten up and just live and be happy. Maybe I should heed one reader’s advice and ‘start filling a jar with notes of things you are happy for‘. And what would a gratitude list do? Don’t I have to do some other stuff besides? Is it not like Facebook’s rhetoric? If you believe this, if you are my friend, etc. etc. copy and paste. What does copy and paste accomplish besides that and getting a whole bunch of people copying and pasting?

I know, all I am doing is asking more questions. I offer no answers. Putting the questions out there is valuable. They’re food for thought, stimulous. Wait, what about the books? you ask. Yes, the books. They’re the two latest ones I’ve read. Strange that they both landed on me at the same time. Both contained the answers I needed. The first one was Home by Toni Morrison. The second is Mercy by Jodi Picoult. Strange, how some books get ratings. I loved both books but Mercy got a lot of bad ratings. Perhaps the subject of mercy killing and a cheating husband doesn’t sit well with female readers. It sat very well with me. Made me look at love and forgiveness from many sides. Both book made me feel hopeful again. They’re both fiction but you know what they say about truth and fiction.

LOVE IS MY ANSWER

Posted on January 2, 2019 by hafong

January 2, 2019 1:52 pm

James Last’s music has been playing in my head today. It has been dormant all these years but my angel must have popped a coin into my jukebox. Strains of Love Must Be The Reason and the Wedding Song (There Is Love) are playing nonstop in my ears. Clearly there is a message for me. Love must be the answer.

I got it, my sweet angels. I have been listening. I heard the flutter of your wings, your whispers in my ears. It is better to love than hate. My mind and heart are cracked open a little. I will try to let in possibilities. I will try to let in light and softness. I’m letting go of control and judgement as much as I can. I will try to stop the narratives in my head. They are not always true. Sometimes they are the whispers of the devil.

Yes, love must be my answer. It’s the crowbar that opens my heart and mind. It is the doorstop keeping it opened. It is the devil’s bane. Let love flow into me to start this new year and help me throughout the year. I do not want to dwell in the valley of the shadow.

Why does a leaf turn its rays to sunshine;
Why does the dawn come to endless night.

Why does a road that unwinds so steeply
In what so true of such strong and right.

Love must be the reason
Yes, love must be the reason
Every heart can fly in a cloudless sky
On the wings of love.

Season for all season
Yes love must be the reason
Just one boy and girl
Can raise up the world
On the wings of love.

Why does the sea take the weary railroad
Into its arms like
a child of hope.
How can a tree rest beyond forever;
Hand touching hand least gone along.

Love must be the reason
Yes, love must be the reason
Every heart can fly
In a cloudless sky
On the wings of love

PURPOSE, PROJECTS AND FOLLOW THROUGH

Posted on December 28, 2017 by hafong

The day/life is much easier with purpose. It gives you structure and a starting point. It’s the catalyst that pushes me through the starting gate and onward to the finish line. I’m in a better frame of mind. It’s reassuring that I am not always pooling in my puddles. It only seems so. Once more the sun is shining on me, literally. I have to take off my sweater. It’s that warm.

The words feel more fluid in the warmth. They are flowing with ease from my fingertips. I am at ease in this moment with Sheba sleeping beside me. The sun feels so warm, the tea so good. I close my eyes, inhaling, exhaling..living. I give thanks of gratitude to the wisdom of people like Viktor Frankl, Caroline Myss and Professor Guy McPherson. McPherson, a biology professor believes that climate change from our heavy footprint is destroying our planet beyond repair. Even so, we should not despair. He advises:

“I encourage people to pursue excellence, to pursue love, to pursue what they love to do. I don’t think these are crazy ideas, actually – and I also encourage people to remain calm because nothing is under control, certainly not under our control anyway.”

Those words resonate with me. I am in pursuit of those goals the best I can. They are my torch on gloomy days, beckoning onward or to sit and rest awhile. I need heroes and cheerleaders to coach me along the way. It’s one thing to get started and another to follow through to the end. I’ve had a bit of practice. It’s easier every day. I get up, dress up and show up the best I can. Some best are better than others. That’s how it is.

What are my pursuits in concrete language? The biggy right now is mastering my new Bernina computerized sewing machine. It would have been wise to do some checking. Too bad I didn’t read this blog before. No matter. I have no buyer’s regret. I have a vision of using it as another medium for my artwork. I was inspired by images of free motion embroidery. They popped into my head one day. I can do that, I said to myself. I trust my instincts and ‘feelings’. So off to the Sewing Machine Store I went.

I’m not off and running yet but it is out of the box. After hours of watching tutorils on YouTube, I’ve bobbined and manually threaded the needle. Haven’t mastered the automatic threader yet. I can turn it on, off, navigate some of computer screen and use the straight and zigzag stitches. Not exactly flying or embroidering but still pretty awesome. I think I’ll go and hem my pants now. Be back tomorrow with more progress – I hope.

THE PLACE CALL HOME

Posted on October 31, 2017 by hafong

I think too much. Today, I’m thinking about the place call home. Where is it for me – the China where I was born, Maidstone, Saskatchewan where I took grade 1-12 or here, in Saskatoon, where I have lived since?

Was it Thomas Wolfe who said you can never go home again? It’s true. On a trip to Hong Kong, I tried to speak Chinese to the store merchants while shopping for souvenirs. They could not understand me. My travel mates told me to speak English for heaven’s sake. I was crushed. On another trip to China, I tried to find my way back to my home village. No luck for various reasons. On my return home, my mother informed me that our cousin laughed about my clumsy Chinese when I tried to talk to her on the phone. More crushing. It’s not for lack of trying but lack of appreciation by others that I couldn’t find home.

Is home a place then? I spent most of my formative years (12) in Maidstone. I always refer it as my hometown. But is it home? We owned the house we lived in. My father and his cousin owned the Rex Cafe they operated together. I knew the teachers and most of the kids in school. The year I finished grade 12, my family moved to NYC. But even before the move, I sensed that we were really not part of the fabric. We were one of the 3 Chinese families in town. We had the cafe.

My parents didn’t belong/participate in any community groups or activities. My mother had only a spattering of English. I had never felt the aloneness and separation of homelessness till that end of that summer. I came back to Maidstone to pack up for going to university in Saskatoon. We had not yet all moved. My father was still in the process of finalizing the sale of the house and cafe. My grandparents were still in the house. But already I was feeling gone and invisible. It was as if the town had shifted and filled in the spaces we once occupied.

For me then, home is not so much a place as the warmth of feelings, the rushing arms of a welcoming. Home is the moment that Sheba runs out the door, tail wagging and squealing with delight after just a couple of days away. She gallops back and forth, unable to contain her happiness at seeing us. We watch her antics, misty-eyed and hearts full – owners and dog sitter. We were all home in the moment of pure love.

onethousandandtwo

Looking at Infinity

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