Almost 3am, I am still turning and tossing in bed. So I decide to get up and write my new post instead of fighting to sleep. I guess it is the thought of Life and Death that keeps haunting me over the last four days and makes me  feeling down and restless. The images of dead body and the crying mothers and children from Haiti earthquake remind me about my past.

I was five when my father died in front of me. It was our first day of school (my nephew and I are same age), so the three of us left home on my father old vespa early in the morning.

The vespa’s engine suddenly died in the middle of the street. By pushing the vehicle three, four times up the hill, he damaged his already stricken lung (later I was told he had lung cancer). He die by losing a lot of blood. It was not that far from home so my nephew and I immediately ran home to call my mother. Until today and perhaps forever I can never forget this tragic day, even though, only five years old, I had no idea what death means.

My mother passed away in 2001 in California. This time, the experience was totally different. At thirty-eight, and have lived through a disruptive life and still survive, death is the one thing that my heart can not bear. I remember coming home from the hospital, I broke down in tears and my heart filled with pain and sorrow. No matter how hard I tried, I could not stop crying till hours later. The image of my mother in death-bed with her smile, looking at me (I knew she was dying) was too great for me to endure. Yet, at her funeral, I refused to take a last look at her. All my sisters did. Fear? or Devastation? I am not sure…But I knew that if  I was to look at  her lifeless body, the body which I used to share talks of love, joy, and sorrow…The body which I used to run to for comfort and protection whenever I needed…I would die.

Do you know that once, your soul die, even if it is reborn, it will never be the same. Your soul has changed.

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