 | The warmth of the brightness of day The cool in the breeze of the night The familiar love of a rekindled past The fiery passion of a stirring present One has to give for the other to live. - Vincent Immanuel Pang |
I saw it. The plant was dying. I knew from the color of the flower the plant was dying. It was not longer the brilliant pink it was just a few days ago. Now it's just a drying and yellowing shadow of its former flamboyant self.
I squatted by the plant, reducing my 3-feet tallness by half, observing it at eye-level and looking morose. The evening breeze seemed torturous to the limp plant, making it sway helplessly in its breath. I looked sullenly at it, a powerless sadness came over me. I knew I couldn't rescue, but I didn't want to let it die either.
Across the garden, grandma was walking to the veranda to cool herself off again. I recognized the smell of red tobacco smoke wafting from her hand rolled cigarettes - even now it's the only kind I can bear to be around with without the risk of triggering a severe migraine.
�No-ah*, what are you doing there?� she asked with a twinkling smile on her face, �Come and sit by grandma� she said gently tapping her knees. I looked up and she saw an unnatural sadness on the countenance of her grandson.
�What's wrong...?� she was concerned.
�The flower is dying... I don't want it to die� I whined quietly from my tiny position.
She tapped on her knees again, indicating that I should sit by her side, but this time more insistently. I toddled over to her as she began...
�No-ah, do you like to play in the sun with your shadow during the day?�
I nodded as I rested my chin on her lap, sitting next to her.
�Do you like to rest in the cool breeze of the moon in the evening� she continued as she stroked the soft hair on back of my head. I nodded again.
�But No-ah, have you ever seen the sun and the moon together?�
�No. You told me the sun has to go and sleep so the moon can come out� I replied.
She smiled. �That's right. You remember well...�
�You see, little one, one has to go away in order for the other to be; they cannot both be around. One of them has to say 'now is the time for me to go away...'� she continued.
I looked at her, hoping that she would explain what she had said. She didn't disappoint.
She pointed her fan at the flower and clarified, �You see, this flower has to go away so that another new one can come out and play. It cannot stay here forever. It had its fun and now it has to go away for another flower to come out and play.�
Sure enough, over the next few days, the flower began its 'going away' journey. It's colors faded with acceleration and soon its petals fell off too. I noticed the dried and yellow petals 'disappearing' into the soil.
�Ah, that is very observant of you!� my grandma smiled as she gently stroked my head again on another evening. �This flower is preparing a new playground for the next flower to play in. Before it goes away, it makes sure that the ground is nice and comfy for the new flower...�
�By disappearing into the ground?�
�Yes. And the new flower will pick up what it leaves on the ground.�
�Wah... so the old flower will be inside the new flower too...!�
�That's right, No-ah...� she twinkled again, �The old flower makes sure that the new flower will be able to have as much fun, if not more, when it arrives.�
A few days later a new shoot reared its head above the ground near the spot where the old flower 'disappeared'. As grandma rightly pointed, a new flower soon sprang up and blossomed into another brightly colored bloom. I thought its color was more vivid and vibrant.
Grandma said the old flower went away into the soil and made sure of that.
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* A tender term of endearment in plain Teochew to refer to one's little ones.
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