Twinkle twinkle

Went back to home town for friend's 23rd anniversary of his death. A monk who used to be our elementary school teacher was waiting for us at his temple, where our friend rests. Familiar faces, each somewhat rounded and wrinkled, gray hair, less hair, etc. started showing up. Even 2nd grade teacher was there, too. How she looked short and tiny once we had looked up her face.

Put fire on the incense, some were busy babbling, some were putting flowers, everybody lined up in front of his grave as the monk teacher started chanting, incense in each hand. Gave incense to him, bow and pray as we always do.

Some more babbling, then we all went to visit his parents. His younger sister had a girl baby about 8 months ago, and the house was partly filled with baby stuff. We all, about 16 of us, gave him another incense, followed by sipping green tea, talking about fishing, local gossips, etc. Nothing exciting but some toned down chats in the room, thinking there was nothing we could do to ease their pain of losing him, yet after 23 years. Or our existence would have reminded them of it.

We said good by to them and moved to a small local restaurant. Everybody got old for sure but the each nature were still the same: jocular one, clown one, quiet one, loud one, caring one, etc. Obviously it brought back memories to the teacher, reassured in a way that we were still the same although the physical changes were undeniable. Everybody smiling, talking and joking about the old days. Maybe it was such fun because we were free from irritation and agony from everyday work and life, simply went back to where we had once was. Memories only glamorized, inconveniences forgotten, we were not so naive easily be hurt by harsh words, even such acts were comfortable to some of us, confirming what we were by witnessing the familiar scenes.

After the party, I looked up the sky, air was crisp, bright stars above us. Then I though we could let him go now. The time he had gone has been longer than the time he was with us. His parents have a grand child at home. We have lost some of the other class mates. Some of us lost a parent, in-laws, married, divorced, re married, have baby, addition to family by marriage, and so on. His death is one of the events happened to our life, and not that shocking anymore. The scar is healed although you can see a slight mark of it. It's time to move on.