Exit the body, enter the dragon
Jennifer Young
BOSTON — With the Chinese New Year around the corner, my thoughts have been centering on traditions, family and — it may sound odd — death.
The Chinese New Year is the first day of the lunar calendar, and each year has a corresponding animal sign — the Chinese equivalent the American astrological system. The Gregorian calendar year 2000 corresponds to the year of the dragon, which begins Feb. 5.
What I've always enjoyed about Chinese New Year is getting together with my family. For us, the New Year has always been as much of a reason to celebrate as Christmas or Thanksgiving. In China, nearly everyone gets two weeks off for Chinese New Year, and most people brave the jam-packed sardine cans, called trains, to be reunited with family for the holiday.
For me, Chinese New Year has always been a source of mixed emotions. It was a time when I was happy to be surrounded by family but befuddled by traditions I didn't understand. Like a child at Christmas, I merely enjoyed receiving gifts associated with the holiday. It never occurred to me that others might hold this to be a day of deeper significance.
I remember how my grandparents always used to pay their respects to my great-grandparents and other ancestors during the two weeks following the New Year, and I wonder how my grandmothers will feel this year because my grandfathers both passed away within the last two years. I hope their thoughts won't linger on their own mortality.
As a little kid, it never occurred to me that the people I love most in the world would ever die. I remember being introduced to the idea of death for the first time. I think I was 4 when my parents explained what death was and told me that my great-grandmother (whom I had never met) had passed away.
I started to cry.
There has been a lot of growing up to do in the last few years, and I have come to realize that my perception of death has evolved a great deal since that day more than 16 years ago. Before my grandfathers fell ill, I had thought of death as something to be feared, not so much for myself (because I'm young and immortal, of course), but for my aging grandparents.
It seemed so painful and final; it seemed impossible that anything positive could come from something that causes tears of sorrow. Yet when I found myself confronted with the real thing, I found that many blessings came from an event normally considered devastating.
My grandfathers, both of whom had been struggling to hold onto their tenuous grip on life, were finally free from the physical anguish and mental fogginess that had plagued them in their final years. There was a point in time when I looked into each of their eyes and, for a brief moment, saw utter weariness and acceptance of their deaths. There were endless seconds when I observed, helpless, the effort it took for them to draw a single breath.
Death has the wonderful effect of inspiring people to recall the most positive aspects of those who have passed on. Although this sharing tends to make us cry much harder, it also reminds us how our departed have lived full lives that have touched friends, families, acquaintances or even strangers. And, just as important, it serves as a reality check for those of us left behind.
Where are we headed in life? Do we let those we love know how much we care about them? Have we opened doors for strangers carrying heavy packages or given up our seat for that elderly lady on the T? Have parents spent quality time with their children and supported them as they grow into adults?
I often get so sidetracked by my pursuit of the sirens: wealth, power and prestige, and it takes something like death to put things back in perspective. Whether it's the news of a death in the family or a stranger's tragic murder, I come back to my true priorities in life: family, friends and integrity.
With a sudden jolt, I realize how long I've been neglecting to respnd to e-mails or letters. I call my mom to apologize for the rude things I said during last week's phone call (and then she says, "I'm sorry. Who is this?"). And I admit that I'm going to miss my family on Chinese New Year.
This column first appeared Febraury 1, 2000 The Daily Free Press at Boston University. It is reprinted here courtesy of the U-WIRE.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Viewpoint Stories for Friday, February 4, 2000
