remember what we've known.

with autumn

and halloween in

the air.

jack-o-lanterns

and leaf piles

on the corners.

candy and more

candy lining 

the convenient store aisles.

i thought it might

be time

to do something

i've been meaning to do

for years now.

take a walk

through Lakewood Cemetery.

this Minneapolis cemetery 

was established in 1871 

just 13 years after

Minnesota received 'statehood'.

old right?

right.

on first noticings,

the cemetery just keeps

going, going

and going.

the trees reach high

and the grounds are 

impeccably kept.

the stillness is encompassing

and inviting.

i was taught

when i was just a

little girl

to love cemeteries.

for the stillness

for the history

for the honoring of those

who have come before.

the names.

they are written,

but they are unknown to me.

does someone still remember?

and for the stories.

is this Mother's story

still etched in

a child or grandchild's memory?

am i living how i am

in part because of

Mother Ida?

dear Mother and Father Wong,

have you made my

life a little easier?

dear uncle joe.

did you let your 

nieces and nephews sit on

your lap?

did you tell them stories

of the world from the 1790s.

did you remark,

"my how the world is changing!"

just when i think the

world,

back then,

is completely unknown to me.

it is then i find

the statue of

the mother.

cuddling her joys,

just like so many

mothers do.

and i wonder,

at how somethings 

time 

can never & will never 

change.

cemeteries invite me 

to take a moment.

and to just gaze at the

sky.

 

and let the blueness

stun me.

in my wanderings

i find this little girl.

whose life seems to

have ended 

too soon.

i wonder what

dreams filled her head

and imagination.

 

do you remember?

can you remember?

who you wanted to be,

when you were just that small?

this woman.

takes

my breath away.

i even hesitate to

take any bit of her

into my camera lens.

i walk round and round her.

stand next to her.

even her stoneness possess 

a presence

that overwhelms me.

i get lost

amidst the 

trees

names

histories 

stories

and statues.

but i don't mind.

because i am just remembering

things i never knew.

or perhaps i do know.

perhaps we all know and 

perhaps we always have.

perhaps our stories our

interwoven

more than we could ever imagine.

we are because they were.

i am because you are.

connectedness.

those before us,

those around us,

and those to come after us.

maybe we have held all those

pieces since our

first Creation.

maybe. just maybe.

happy autumn.

may we remember

what we have always known.

- n.

squids & trains.

i stood on the other side 

of the security tape. 

watching as my lovely mother 

extended her passport 

[with two hands]

to the security guard. 

she flashed the peace sign. 

her shoulders signaled 

a deep and slow sigh. 

a final goodbye was mouthed. 

and then my lovely mother 

disappeared behind the security barrier.

i stood very still.

the people bustled around me.

the giant clock hanging high over head 

moved on.

i felt convinced she might reemerge 

from behind that barrier.

but she didn't.

she journeyed on.

breathed in. breathed out.

and i realized i must too.

i caught the express subway.

from incheon international airport 

to seoul station.

and just like that, we pulled away.

we were moving.

the ever-prompt and informative

korean public transportation system 

with the flashing screen 

in multi-languages 

informed me

this ride would take approximately 

54 minutes.

and i realized...

i'd stayed too long at the airport.

and i was going to miss my 5:00 pm [17:00] train,

bound for my Korean home.

but as luck would have it.

i stepped onto the KTX train

car number 12.

seat 14D

at 4:59.and a half...

just as the doors were closing.

just having sprinted up four levels of escaladers.

from the very deepest depths of the world

of seoul subway systems,

my breath was heavy 

as i approached my seat, 

"아줌마..??" 

adjumma...

i addressed the older woman who would be 

my seat-mate for the ride.

she smiled kindly and stood to move

so i could slide between her 

and the window

into 14D.

and just like that, we pulled away.

we were moving.

the Korean country side

blurred in and out of my distracted attention.

i tried to read.

i tried to listen to a "this American life" episode.

my seat-mate slowly and methodically read

her newspaper.

without warning.

a few tears settled themselves into my eyes.

and they would not be blinked back.

my face.

it was turned from her [my seat-mate],

out the window

to the rolling rice patties

perfect in their twists 

and playful, deliberate turns.

the next thing i knew.

my seat-mate adjumma

was offering me half the package

of her snack,

dried squid.

with a little wet-wipe even

for my assumedly dirty hands.

she wouldn't even look at me

as i fumbled through my feeble polite-Korean 

language attempts.

she pushed the squid into

my hands with serious force.

her face barely hinted at a smile.

her act was done out of necessity.

not for her.

but for me.

how could she tell?

was it the few measly sniffles

that made their escape from my tight throat

into the wide wide world?

or was it something about her mother's heart,

that just knew?

i hate dried squid.

but this one.

went down brilliantly.

and i never tasted something so sweet.

and just like that...

we kept moving.