Sunday, February 14, 2010
happy valentine's day
With a cup of coffee, some BBC Pride and Prejudice, a vase full of gorgeous roses from afar, and above all, a phone filled with the voice of a loved one, that somehow has risen to the occasion to become an almost-sufficient and comforting substitute for the real thing... I guess Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
we live in the future!
I am currently writing while onboard a Virgin America flight from BOS to LAX, after an intense but enjoyable weekend in Boston. I paid a relatively measly sum for the internet, plugged my dying laptop into the AC outlet, and now have access to friends and loved ones!
Also, I just ordered a lot of complimentary drinks and waters from the touchscreen, which I've also been using for the last 2 hours to watch the Saints win the Superbowl over the Colts! Wow... this airline rox.
Had a great weekend, saw two of the most wonderful people I know joined in marriage. It was a really lovely ceremony and reception, lots of laughter and tears. I guess that's what happens when people have rich lives that positively impact so many others. They inspired me to also examine how my life can be better lived. I think the key might be to simply my life by cleaning out the extra things, while enriching the important things and expanding them to full capacity.
This coming week signals the dreaded/anticipated re-beginning of consistent lab work. Let's hope that I do not forget to stop and smell something aside from coffee.
Also, I just ordered a lot of complimentary drinks and waters from the touchscreen, which I've also been using for the last 2 hours to watch the Saints win the Superbowl over the Colts! Wow... this airline rox.
Had a great weekend, saw two of the most wonderful people I know joined in marriage. It was a really lovely ceremony and reception, lots of laughter and tears. I guess that's what happens when people have rich lives that positively impact so many others. They inspired me to also examine how my life can be better lived. I think the key might be to simply my life by cleaning out the extra things, while enriching the important things and expanding them to full capacity.
This coming week signals the dreaded/anticipated re-beginning of consistent lab work. Let's hope that I do not forget to stop and smell something aside from coffee.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
a story that has never been told
I came across this article about polio survivors in the New York Times. Many of the elderly who are featured in the article had the luxury of hospital treatment when they were struck with the illness. Most were very young children, and have fuzzy memories of the disease. They continue to live with a shortened or weakened limb, and some are experiencing the effects of post-polio syndrome.
It made me think of my maternal grandmother, who battled polio at the age of 16. She passed away 2 years ago, and I'd like to tell a bit of her story. My mother is not eager to share details of my grandmother's life, and my grandmother herself seldom remembered enough to tell a full story.
My grandmother was born in either 1933 or 1934, in rural Shantung province. She does not remember the exact year, and a birth date was created for her when she went to apply for identification. No one had the time or money or attention to celebrate birthdays, I suppose. Her mother died very early in her childhood, when my grandmother was about 3 years old. Being sick in the last years of her life, my great-grandmother had no other children. My great-grandfather, who still wore a shortened queue left over from the Manchu style in the Qing dynasty, never remarried. My grandmother had the rare and lonely experience of growing up an only child, 50 years before this would become the norm in population-controlled China. She resisted her grandmother's multiple attempts at binding her feet, and grew up to have large hands and feet that are approximately a woman's US size 8. My grandmother was not conventionally beautiful, but she was independent and strong. She never went to school, and could only sign her name with difficulty for bank documents, even after much coaching later in life.
In 1948 or 1949, the year that a young man named Mao Zedong inspired what would become one of the most cataclysmic political revolutions in China, my grandmother became engaged to a handsome military officer in the People's Liberation Army. He was 5 years older than she, and promised to return for her after his military service. The details of their romance is unknown to my mom. Soon after his departure, my grandmother became ill. According to what I have read, she must have endured an enormous amount of pain at a very young age. A lonely young woman, now ostracized by this strange disease that rendered her bedridden and unable to use her limbs. Her father took care of her at this time, she told me, and she likely saw no doctors who knew Western medicine. It's possible that no one knew it was polio until many years later.
When my grandfather returned from the military, my grandmother was the ghost of the girl she once was. She was thin beyond all recognition, had experienced multiple organ damage, and the bone and muscles in her right leg were completely atrophied. Doctors were certain that she had become barren, due to an extended amenorrhea that was likely to be irreversible. My grandfather, a decorated soldier now and one of the most eligible bachelors in their region, remained a man of his word and married her. The details of this decision, no one will ever know.
With one short and painful leg that would be with her for the rest of her life, my grandmother would endure taunts and discrimination of her peers, condescension from her in-laws and elders of her community, insecurity from her illiteracy... and raise 3 successful, healthy, and intelligent children, stand by her husband while he made perilous political decisions, nurse him as he endured and succumbed to stomach cancer, and live the last 20 years of her life alone, as she was for the first 20 years of her life... My grandmother was the strongest woman I have ever known, and her wisdom and infinite love exceed that of any other human I have encountered.
The story of this remarkable woman is not finished, but I am telling it for the first time.
It made me think of my maternal grandmother, who battled polio at the age of 16. She passed away 2 years ago, and I'd like to tell a bit of her story. My mother is not eager to share details of my grandmother's life, and my grandmother herself seldom remembered enough to tell a full story.
My grandmother was born in either 1933 or 1934, in rural Shantung province. She does not remember the exact year, and a birth date was created for her when she went to apply for identification. No one had the time or money or attention to celebrate birthdays, I suppose. Her mother died very early in her childhood, when my grandmother was about 3 years old. Being sick in the last years of her life, my great-grandmother had no other children. My great-grandfather, who still wore a shortened queue left over from the Manchu style in the Qing dynasty, never remarried. My grandmother had the rare and lonely experience of growing up an only child, 50 years before this would become the norm in population-controlled China. She resisted her grandmother's multiple attempts at binding her feet, and grew up to have large hands and feet that are approximately a woman's US size 8. My grandmother was not conventionally beautiful, but she was independent and strong. She never went to school, and could only sign her name with difficulty for bank documents, even after much coaching later in life.
In 1948 or 1949, the year that a young man named Mao Zedong inspired what would become one of the most cataclysmic political revolutions in China, my grandmother became engaged to a handsome military officer in the People's Liberation Army. He was 5 years older than she, and promised to return for her after his military service. The details of their romance is unknown to my mom. Soon after his departure, my grandmother became ill. According to what I have read, she must have endured an enormous amount of pain at a very young age. A lonely young woman, now ostracized by this strange disease that rendered her bedridden and unable to use her limbs. Her father took care of her at this time, she told me, and she likely saw no doctors who knew Western medicine. It's possible that no one knew it was polio until many years later.
When my grandfather returned from the military, my grandmother was the ghost of the girl she once was. She was thin beyond all recognition, had experienced multiple organ damage, and the bone and muscles in her right leg were completely atrophied. Doctors were certain that she had become barren, due to an extended amenorrhea that was likely to be irreversible. My grandfather, a decorated soldier now and one of the most eligible bachelors in their region, remained a man of his word and married her. The details of this decision, no one will ever know.
With one short and painful leg that would be with her for the rest of her life, my grandmother would endure taunts and discrimination of her peers, condescension from her in-laws and elders of her community, insecurity from her illiteracy... and raise 3 successful, healthy, and intelligent children, stand by her husband while he made perilous political decisions, nurse him as he endured and succumbed to stomach cancer, and live the last 20 years of her life alone, as she was for the first 20 years of her life... My grandmother was the strongest woman I have ever known, and her wisdom and infinite love exceed that of any other human I have encountered.
The story of this remarkable woman is not finished, but I am telling it for the first time.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
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