Goodbye

Singapore Desserts by Lauren Monaco

My youngest will be moving to Singapore tomorrow for work!  I wept for my mother each time I left Singapore.  Now I weep for my daughter as she gets ready to leave for Singapore. Life sometimes feels like a series of goodbyes that never ends!

As I remember your tears, I long to see you, that I may be filled with joy.

2 Timothy 1:4 

A Tribute

Vermeer's The Concert, 1665

Our very dear friend Lois Nielson died two weeks ago.  She was 91.  She lived such a full and abundant life, committing herself unreservedly to her calling, touching so many with her love and dedication that despite the advanced age, it still felt like an untimely death to all who knew her.  She was musically and pedagogically gifted (training pianists for 71 of her 91 years, including our daughter Kathryn), possessed of a brilliant and curious mind, a sharp eye for things beautiful, and a magnanimous heart that beat passionately for her family, friends, students...and above all her God.

She was a woman who exuded beauty, and her memorial service aptly captured that beauty.  Hers was the kind of beauty that I can only describe as transcendent.  It is because she (and her memorial service) pointed to the ultimate Beauty, her Lord Jesus Christ.  The music at her memorial service lifted hearts heavenward, the eulogies and Scripture readings moved the mourners to seek more urgently the God who had  transformed her into the incredible, unforgettable woman that she was; it was a most suitable tribute to how she lived her life.  In death, as in life, Lois Nielson pointed and gave praise to her Lord and Redeemer!

Here is  Alex McDonald playing Chopin Nocturne in C Minor, Op. 48, No. 1.  Alex was a student of Mrs. Nielson, a 2014 Van Cliburn Competition finalist; he lovingly performed this transcendent piece at her memorial service.

I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. 

John 10: 10b

One thing have I asked of the Lord,
    that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
    all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
    and to inquire in his temple.

Psalm 27:4 

Class of 2014

“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art. . . . It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that gives value to survival.”  - CS Lewis

Our youngest graduated from Northwestern a week ago.  We had a lovely time celebrating.  The university did a fantastic job with the general commencement, the individual school convocations, and receptions. We even enjoyed listening to the commencement speeches, the main address being delivered by Ricardo Muti, renowned conductor and music director of the Chicago Symphony.  He was amiable and funny at times, encouraging the graduates to make connections on a more personal basis.  I detect a thread running through the various talks from Muti, to President Shapiro, to Weinberg convocation speaker Daniel Pink, of spurring the graduates on to cherish and maintain personal connections.  These young people have grown up in the digital age, where "friends" are made through Facebook and "conversations" reduced to phrases by texting.

We are delighted that our daughter, though savvy of the ways of social media, has made many real and lasting friendships in her four years at Northwestern, the old-fashioned way.  We got to meet many of these friends.  She and her friends organized cookouts and get-togethers during commencement week for the families to get to know them.  We so enjoyed meeting these young people -- all of them warm, sincere, thoughtful and unpretentious -- which speaks well of our child.

I hope our daughter and her friends will not only strive to keep up their friendships but make the effort to establish new ones as they enter the next phase of their lives.  Friendship, after all, borrowing CS Lewis' sentiment, is what will give value to all that they venture out to do.

No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.

John 15:16 

Happy Valentine's Day!

 Illustration by Lauren Monaco

My daughter had been playing Chinese music to commemorate Chinese New Year the past two weeks.  She reminded me of this love song that was one of my mother's favorites.

To commemorate Valentine's Day, here's Teresa Tang singing The Moon Represents My Heart.

Happy Lunar New Year!

Painting by Xu Beihong

I am a few days late in sending my greetings for the year of the horse, the first day of the New Year being January 31.  But technically we have 15 days to celebrate the new year.  So, I am late, but not too late.

I came across this short Singapore film this morning, The Reunion Dinner, which follows a boy through three stages of his life as he celebrates the reunion dinner on Chinese New Year's Eve with his family.  I find it quite delightful. It also brings back memories of how my family celebrated the new year in Singapore.  Though the differences are many between the film's family and mine, the sentiments remain curiously similar.  I remember how as a youngster, I would look forward to wearing the pyjamas my grandmother lovingly sewed for all her grandchildren to be worn on New Year's Eve, to the elaborate meal, to the family gathering, and of course the ang-pows!  The film especially evokes memories of the love and pride my father had for me and my family.  It makes me miss my parents immensely.

Here's the link to The Reunion Dinner.  In the film, you will also catch a glimpse of Singapore through the decades and hear the Chinese dialect, Hokkien, which was my family's dialect as well.  Enjoy!

Fall is in the Air!

Church of Old Lyme by Childe Hassam

Fall has finally descended on Dallas!  It is time to pull out the sweaters.  How delightful to wake up to crisp fall air and warm fall memories this morning.  My favorite memories are mostly centered around our time in Fairfield County, Connecticut, where the air surrounding our Wilton home was fresh, crisp and musty all at the same time with striking fall leaves covering our two-acre land.  In mid-afternoon, with our youngest who was then a toddler bundled up in layers of sweaters, topped with a knitted cap (a cute round ball as her father affectionately called her), we would head out to our massive front yard to rake leaves and wait for the school bus to bring home our kindergartener.  How we looked forward to the yellow automotive pulling up to our driveway and our pint-sized child with her lollipop-colored glasses and her too-big backpack alighting the bus, her little legs carrying her swiftly down the long driveway into my arms for a big snuggly hug.  Hot chocolate, warm cookies and apples soon followed in our dated flower-wallpapered kitchen with earnest chatter of our day.

I was a much more enthusiastic cook then and our kitchen in the fall was often suffused with the smells of pumpkin bread or apple pie or pot roast in the oven, or a hearty stew or soup on the stove, not to mention the scent of cinnamon on just about everything!

Thanksgiving was a big affair at our home in Connecticut as my parents (who often stayed long enough for the holiday and before the first snowfall) and my husband's family (who lived across  the border in Westchester, New York) and international friends gathered around the table for a stupendous meal.  Everyone contributed to the meal with my mother helping with the turkey, my mother-in-law with the side dishes, and Aunt Diane with cheesecake and Italian cookies.  I would serve an Italian appetizer before the turkey meal, one year making calzone, another seafood lasagne.  I did usually go crazy with the dessert, one year we had as many as six different kinds of dessert on the table, including a hummingbird cake!  This adopted holiday is by far my favorite holiday and I would reckon my parents' as well.

Psalm 37:3-4

Trust in the Lord, and do good;
    dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness.

Delight yourself in the Lord,
    and he will give you the desires of your heart.

A Better Story

Painting by Norman Rockwell

I recently read a promotional blurb on a book that got me a little riled up.  It goes something like this:  "...when the credits roll in your life, are people going to think your story sucked? If there’s any chance of that happening, read this book and start living a better story."

Seriously?  In the first place, when the credits roll in my life, what other people think about it, whether it sucked or not, will be the least of my concerns.  And why are there people standing around judging if other people's lives sucked (such a grating word, by the way) in the first place?  Are they not busy enough living and appreciating their own lives?

I did go on to read the book as it was recommended to me, on a loan, I might add.  The book, thankfully, is less arrogant and less condescending than the promotion.  The author, a single man in his 40s, gave some good insights, but was eschewed towards promoting life's "better stories" as introducing inciting incidences like biking across the country, starting a mentoring program, hiking the Inca trail in Peru, inviting world leaders into your home, etc.

That is all very exciting and commendable.  And I know people who live such intriguing lives and I do find their stories appealing and exciting.  Maybe I am just not one to be impressed with showiness in lifestyle or personality for at the end of the day, the people whose life stories I find the most compelling are the ones who have very "uninteresting" stories to tell.  They will never be recognized for starting any programs, for dining with world leaders, for living and traveling to remote locales, or for writing books telling others how to live their lives...They just live their quiet lives filled with love for what they do and especially for the people who fill their lives.  They do not feel the need to feed their lives with inciting incidences but instead make their lot as "exciting" as possible.  They are the ones who wake up in the morning, content with their lot:  grateful to go to work; hold their babies; call their loved ones; write an encouraging note; pray; contribute time and money without ever being recognized by anyone, let alone world leaders; clean bathrooms; give a smile; listen; hold a hand; cook a meal, etc.
 
I think we can all start "living a better story" right where we are now by filling our very ordinary days with love and gratitude for what we do have instead of looking for the next inciting incidence.  If we can't appreciate the work we have at hand and love the people who now fill our lives, what makes us think that we will enjoy drilling for water in Africa or loving the destitute in Indonesia?  We will carry the same discontent wherever we go and to whomever who meet.  If you can't be generous, love and sacrifice for your family and friends at hand, you will not be able to do so with strangers in faraway lands.

Don't get me wrong, I am not against starting mentoring programs or biking across America, but pursuing such endeavors does no equate to living a better story than living a seemingly "mundane" life  with a grateful attitude and loving the people around you.  Not many of us have such privileged lives that we can take time off from our responsibilities to hike the Inca trail

I want to salute my octogenarian friend Lois who spent the past 50 years of her life teaching piano, loving and encouraging the students who sat at her piano bench; my other octogenarian friend Catherine whose eyesight though dim spends her day praying fervently for her family and friends; for my mailman in Winchester who always delivered our mail with a smile (and once in a Santa suit); for my daughter's school bus driver Mr. Ephraim in Wilton who made sure she was never let off the bus unless we were at the driveway to collect her; to my friends who mentor one-on-one, teach bible studies to the blind, make the effort to encourage a friend, take in an ailing friend, love their families...all very ordinary people, living very ordinary lives but with so much love for what they do and the people they do it for.

I Corinthians 13: 1-3

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. ² And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. ³ If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned,^[a] but have not love, I gain nothing.