Meanderings

I. Ending Scenes in New York

I cleaned the apartment before heading out for a break.

I opened the fridge. I had developed an unenviable trait, a holdover from my early days in NY, when I kept packets of soy sauce and ketchup and other sauces thinking I’d use them if I run out of supply. I don’t know why I caught this affliction and stuck with it. Perhaps not so much because I wanted to be economical and save, but that there’s a part of me wanting to hold on, convinced it’s an exercise in constancy. 

I kept too many icepacks in the freezer, just in case I get rashes. 

I filled a large trash bag and threw it away. I felt lighter. I wondered why it never occurred to me to do this before. 

I yelled, hey Google, play Bread on my playlist. All I want is just the way it used to be, it sang. Hey, have you ever tried, really reaching out for the other side? 

These days, I don’t even glance at the mailbox on my way out of the building. I have no qualms throwing out unopened mail. Today though, I reluctantly went, and out spilled three issues each of The Economist and Barron’s. I made a mental note to cancel his subscriptions. He read them online, why did he think to forward the printed copies to me? And yet, when he first mentioned this to me, I remembered agreeing, thinking there’s more we can discuss and I can learn. 

It will be almost two years since you died, I thought. I know you don’t expect me.

I rewatched a movie about a public toilet cleaner in Tokyo who hardly spoke and spent his free time taking analog photos of the sun as its light hit the trees and reflected on the ground, and I learned about komorebi.  Komorebi is a fascinating and profound concept, and it made me think of my own emotional journey. 

Next I followed an ongoing tv series, no doubt because of a certain Kentaro S, whose smile is so distracting it needs to be declared illegal. 

I reminded myself that I need to bring out the comforter when I’m back in NY. 

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