Wonderland 2024

B-2 Drowning in Tears

In Chinese culture, any woman around your mother’s age is your “aunt”. Therefore, my “family” comprises of numerous aunts. Technically, their husbands automatically become your “uncle” but that was never the case in my life. Regardless, my mom called me one day while I was away at college. It was my final year of school and I had 1.5 quarters left before I finished all my studies. It was mid-November, right before thanksgiving week, and she had previously told me my aunt wasn’t doing well- she’d thrown out her back. Then it turned into Sciatica. That time she called me, she told me our aunt was “sick”. It was “Stage 4” she said. I remembered thinking “that sounds like cancer”. I hadn’t said it out loud. It was a serious word, not one to go throwing around even if the terminology fit. It wasn’t until later that my mom confirmed it was cancer. Lung cancer. For someone who didn’t smoke, and aside from a smelling disorder, was relatively healthy, it was a shock. I cried for a few hours. I had an audition that night for a dance crew and didn’t end up auditioning because I just couldn’t. I ended up submitting a video audition and not making the cut. My heart wasn’t in it.

The rest of the week, I walked around campus and tried to find school merch for the aunt. That weekend, I went home and discussed my aunt’s situation with my mom. She told me she planned to fly out a few days later to see her. I nodded in agreement. “Aren’t you going to ask if you can go?” She asked me. “I didn’t know that was an option.” She gave me her flight information, but when I went on the airline’s page to book, it was unavailable. So I booked a different airline, emailed all my professors about a family emergency, flew solo, and arrived around the same time as my mom and sister.
Upon arrival, we went straight to aunt’s house where Grandfather was, as well. Aunt was in good spirits, looking weak but still herself, cracking jokes and being sarcastic. I remember she joked that with chemo, at least she didn’t have to shave her hair weekly. The chemo did it for her. My mom, sister, and I presented her with our gifts- a NYU bear from my sister, an anteater from UCI, and a horse pillow pet from USC. I spent two weeks there, and had my classmates help me collect my work from various classes during the week I was away.

Once I returned to school, everything was a blur. I don’t remember if I returned solo or with my mom. I do, however, remember one professor pulling me aside and asking if everything was okay- I had left with long hair and come back with a shaved head

In Buddhism, my family’s religion, shaving your head is a show of devotion and dedication to the religion.

. I told her yes. My friends helped me catch up on missed work, and then winter break rolled around. As the plane landed at the airport, my mom got a text saying our aunt’s condition was rapidly declining. Her heart rate was touch and go. We raced to the house. My two uncles went in with us, and we rushed into the house. I saw another aunt’s computer screen, on a funeral home’s page. I knew. Everyone in the house stood, kneeled, and sat around her bed- Grandfather, the aunt’s mom, my two uncles, the other aunt, my mom, my sister and me. Grandfather led us in some rituals and doctrinal songs. Afterwards, it was the one time I’ve ever seen my grandfather cry. Grandfather, our religious master, began giving a lesson in Chinese, saying how the minute we touched down, aunt’s heartbeat got stronger and steadier. Our energy had arrived and she had absorbed it.

I couldn’t take it and went to the bathroom. I threw up. I cried. And, my period started.
We stayed as long as we could that night, until Mom decided that those in the household needed their rest as well, so we bid everyone goodbye and went back to our own place. That was the last time we saw our aunt.

My mom explained that this needed to be kept quiet, because Grandfather’s doubters would begin coming out of the woodwork, asking, “if she was your disciple for so long, and your main assistant for so long, how come you couldn’t save her?” When I asked the same thing, she replied, “Everyone has to die at some point. Are you saying that with Grandfather’s blessings, people will live forever? Your aunt was already very sick as a baby. Your grandfather saved her then. He can’t save her again.” I understood, but couldn’t, wouldn’t accept it. The saddest moment of my life had just happened, I couldn’t tell anyone about it, and I was suffering from period cramps. Happy Winter Break to me.

WC- 835
Prompt: create a blog entry (or static item) telling about the saddest event of your life.