Happy Earth Day!

Time: 6:58am; Temperature: 28F

Tulips in a spring morning under freezing temperature... but they are still beautiful!

 

Naperville, IL

April 22, 2021

 

 

Life After the 2020 Pandemic

Yes, there is life after the pandemic! 

As of 4/8/2021, I have completed two Pfizer vaccine shots and started looking beyond the pandemic. Booked two trips already for May and June. What's next?

1.  I will never forget the pain caused by the pandemic to countless families related to over 560K lost souls. As I reflect on this horrific experience, the most important lesson I've learned is: life is fragile and unpredictable. To truly understand and accept "unpredictability" is extremely difficult to do. This is partly why adversity sometimes is our best teacher. It helps us better understand what life truly is, and how to manage through its ups and downs.

2.  I am so grateful that all my families and close friends are safe and healthy. There is nothing more I should ask or expect -- people don't usually arrive to this thought until they go through a horrendous global disaster like Covid-19.

3.  Life is precious and beautiful. It goes through its sunny, rainy and even stormy days. But in the end, winter will pass, spring will come, with flowers blooming and birds singing... The world will resume with new HOPE!

With that, I shall continue living my life with gratitude, awareness, and a strong willingness to give back. 

Chelle-chelle's Baby Diary: 1990.12.30 to 1991.9.17

Dear Chelle-chelle, 

Attached is the baby diary I recorded for you between 1990.12.30 and 1991.9.17. A total of 262 days, without a single day missing. The diary stopped on 1991.9.17 because you went back to China with Grandma and Grandpa on that day. 

Each entry has been translated into English, so you can read it some day. This may be the best gift Mama could ever give to you. Cherish it, Chelle, as I don't believe many people in this world have something so special. Through these words, I hope you realize how much you were loved. We still love you deeply.

Cover Page:

漫漫，这里绘着你在人生路上留下的最初的几个小小脚印…

Chelle-chelle, the very first few footprints of your life long journey were left here…

Love,

Mom

30 Years Ago

It was 30 years ago, today, I wrote the note below in Michelle's diary. The attached is the calendar book I used to write her diary -- from 12/30/1990 to 9/17/1991. There is an entry every day. The last day of this diary book was 9/17/1991 when Michelle went back to China with Grandma and Grandpa. I am in the process of translating this diary book into English so Dr. Michelle will be able to read it some day.

1991.3.14（四）

我傍晚下班回家，刚走到楼门口，看到阿婆抱着漫漫来给我开门。听阿婆说漫漫是下楼来接妈妈的。穿着阿婆给她做的那件小花绒背心，见到妈妈她眼睛笑成了一条缝。

When I got back from work in the evening, before entering the building, Grandma and Chelle-chelle came to open the door for me. Grandma said Chelle-chelle came downstairs to wait for me. She wore the little colorful vest Grandma made for her. She smiled when she saw Mama.  

 

Got Fish???

It was a 10-hour ordeal with standing by the Mississippi River in freezing winds for 5 hours! 

Talking about "the weather can totally destroy all your photography plans," my experience on Saturday was a prime example. We checked the weather prior to the trip -- the light would be good; the temperature would be around 29F; and our friends told us that there would be many bald eagles flying over the river.  Perfect... except, when we got there, we realized the SSE winds was a disaster! It caused the bald eagles to fly away from us each time when they tried to catch fish -- Wow, who knew!!!

With that, I hope you realize the difficulty to catch the head of the bald eagle in each of these photos. Also, make sure you find the fish in every picture.

Mississippi River, IA 

February 20, 2021 

 

Winter Wonderland 2021

The never-ending debate is -- can we capture nature's beauty without complicated, heavy camera gears?  Can we capture nature's beauty without losing the opportunity to actually "Be There" and fully enjoy the moment? Honestly, these are the fundamental questions I've been asking myself since Day 1 of my journey in photography.

On this trip, I took 7 photos. The first 4 were taken with my iPhone; the last 3 photos were with my cameras. I believe my audiences are in the best position to judge for themselves.

The truth is -- nature photography, in many ways, is a random game. You can plan to death, and yet, in the end, the weather can destroy everything you've planned for...  What I've learned over the past many years is to respect the true wisdom in life -- acceptance!

St. Joseph, Michigan 

February 16, 2021  

 

Mexico

Dr. Michelle sent me the following text message on 1/12/2021, and then the poem. May every soul lost to Covid-19 Rest In Peace!

"I wrote a poem for the first time in years. It is the story of a Covid patient. It was written because after he died, his nurse told me that he had not wanted to be intubated, had said that he wanted to go back to Mexico and die on the beach. Then he asked the nurse if she would still be there when he got extubated. And that hurt my soul because he died instead of ever getting extubated..."

Mexico

By Michelle P. Zhang, MD

 

I don’t want to die here.

Take me back to the beaches of Mexico,

where the warm sun rays hit the ocean

in just such a way

that I see the reflections of my father’s hands

working hard to build our futures.

Take me back to where the salty winds blow

through the wide leaves of tall palm trees,

echoing the songs that my mother sang,

lulling me into the dreams of my youth.

 

I don’t want to die here.

Here, there are strangers –

their hands are foreign and aseptic,

covered in latex, lacking the warmth of another human.

If they smile, I can’t see it – their faces distant

behind masks and faceshields.

I think that their eyes betray concern.

I understand their words through scattered consonants,

but they do not speak the language of my ancestors.

I understand only

fragments

of the position that I am in.

 

I don’t want to die here.

Take me back to the beaches of Mexico, where the

gentle water tickles my toes

like my little girl running in the backyard

tripping over me with her small –

oh so small –

little feet.

Take me back to where her footprints are.

 

I don’t want to die here.

The last meal I had was something

tasteless and unrecognizable.  

A concession, not a feast.

Oh, how I miss the flavors from back home.

Here, nobody knows who I am beyond age and disease.

Here, nobody holds my hand except to draw my blood, and

it hurts each time.

 

I don’t want to die here.

Take me back to the beaches of Mexico, where

my wife has held my hand

on countless sunset walks.

She and I etched a heart into the sand,

made our mark of love onto this world like

we all hope to do.

The memory of her face lights up this dark room like

a full moon.

 

I don’t want to die here.

Let me die on the beaches of Mexico,

with the things that I have come to know,

with the things that have made my heart tender. 

 

But my lungs – they are heavy,

have they turned to concrete?

The weight of them makes me think that

I may not see tomorrow

without being placed on the strangers’ machines.

They tell me I must fall into a deep sleep,

and the machines will breathe life into me. 

 

But please, can I ask you –

If I must go into the darkness now, tell me –

will you, stranger, still be here when I wake up?