Where are they?

September 9, monday,

I woke up this morning at 7:30 wondering where my parents are. Yeah I know they are dead but where are they exactly. I want to know specifically where. But where? Our Catholic teaching tells us they are in heaven. But where is heaven? The priests, when making a point, point their fingers to the sky.

When I was still a little girl I used to climb our roof to be closer to heaven and to hide from my parents when they were about to scold me. I would lie down on the cold galvanized corrugated sheets to have a better view of heaven. I always wondered if it’s behind those white clouds and blue sky.

Then I grew older, finished college, and started riding on airplanes. No, heaven is not behind the clouds, nor they are beyond the sky. I’ve been watching BBC Earth lately and they show clear shots of the earth and everything that surrounds it. There’s nothing in the horizon that resembles what heaven is like as I know it.

Exactly three years ago, Oyen, Edmund and I spent a night in a treehouse somewhere in the wilds of Africa. There was no electricity and we could clearly see the stars and what looked like planets from a distance that seemed so far far away. I couldn’t stand looking up for a long time. I was scared. The view was too tremendous for my senses and the feeling overwhelmed me. I felt like some force, Alien, or extra-terrestrial creatures would vacuum me up to oblivion. And where are my parents? Still, I didn’t see their image, shadow, nor felt their souls were up there. I spoke to them briefly while I was staring at the magnificent sight. I imagined my parents could be somewhere up there and they could see me, Edmund, and Oyen.

It’s not true that after you’ve finished college you no longer need your parents. It’s not true that when you have a job and earning a decent pay you no longer need their support. It’s not true that when you get married you no longer need their guidance. It’s not true that when you have your own children and are a parent yourself, you no longer need your parents. It’s not true that when you are as old as I am, you no longer look for your parents. I still do. I want to feel their love. I need their presence. I want to see their faces. I want them to see my family. I want them to feel proud of what we have become. I want them to feel proud of themselves because they were the ones who taught us the basics of living.

I want to know where they are. But it seems that the only place I could find them is in my head, or in my heart, or in my imagination, or in my dreams. Or all of the above. I hope where ever they are, they could see me and know that I do miss them, grateful for what they’ve given me, the education, their love, and care.

Oyen will be walking down our stairs backward on October 5 and I wish my parents, most especially my Chinese-born father, were around to witness and participate in the traditional Chinese ceremony.
Oyen’s Ting Hun would be a watered-down version according to the parents of the groom. Whatever that meant, I wish my parents could be around to witness it. I am happy for Edmund because his mom is still well and able at 85. She will have the opportunity to witness my daughter transition into marriage. I am happy for the groom’s mom because she still has a mom who’ll also be here on that auspicious day.
The respective elders from each family are expected to be present and how I wish my papa and mama would be here too.