Songs of Pain and Hope

There’s a scene I remember in the Iliad that has struck me for a long time. Achilles is given a choice by his mother. Live a long life on a remote island, have children and grandchildren, but eventually be forgotten. Go to fight at Troy and be remembered forever but die thee on its shores. For Achilles, there is no real choice. He was destined or fated to go. That was who he is. I could identify with some of this – I wanted to do something meaningful if not great. 

But I also feel Ulysses. I also longed for home. To belong and be valued. I got a bit of both. Someone told me that I needed to re-establish myself. I replied I never really established myself in the first place. Not all of this was by choice. Some of it though was intuitive. 

When I think of the Odyssey, I realize it’s about life in general. Storms and lulls. I’ve had both. The lulls are trickier in some ways to handle and navigate. Ulysses is trapped for years in one place by Circe. I can’t remember exactly how he breaks free but he does. 

 I kept this book that my daughter wrote and illustrated when she was around 5. It is titled “Sail Home” – about someone trying to make her way home. Parts include the varying weather, emotions, and interestingly enough, there are several pages with nothing really happening with no captions, just her sailing. And I thought – isn’t that so true of our lives? Lots of nothing and then something. 

I sometime say my experiences were a lot like being at an amusement park. Waiting in line for a long time for rides that last minutes. And wow, some of the rides I took. So scary at times. But also thrilling. 

There’s a Pearl Jam song with the lyrics “I’ll ride the wave where it takes me.” At concerts, those in attendance sing that part loudly. It is powerful. As you’ve probably noticed, I think about the ocean a lot. West Malaysia is a peninsula, roughy the size and shape of Florida. It is surrounded by water. My parents’ hometown is by the Straits of Malacca. I spent a lot of time there. I think that’s why I’ve always been drawn to bodies of water – the lakes of Minnesota, Cape Cod in New England, the Chalees River in Boston, and the Schuykill River in Philadelphia, the Danube in Vienna and other places. The water for me is both calming and hopeful. 

The waves are what takes us places. Without then, we remain still. And that can be not a good thing. I really dislike change but I knew instinctively I couldn’t remain still. Home wasn’t so much an edifice, location, job exclusively. 

You felt like home. When I sat in your car with the duck on the seatbelt and the radio gently playing in the background, I knew. You’re the first girl I’ve ever felt that way about. Maybe you feel like Gaithersburg or even youth but I think it’s more than that. 

What drives Ulysses isn’t glory like Achilles. It is home. The son he knew only as a child. The woman he loves. That was his true wisdom. 

You feel like home. It took me a long journey to realize that. In Tennyson’s poem Ulysses, my favorite line is “Though much is taken much abides.” The poem is about an old bored Ulysses longing for adventure again and ready to sail again. 

But you feel like home.

And in my daughter’s book, she does finally make it home.

My mother was the main culprit in the abuse. I don’t need to repeat what she did, I wrote about it elsewhere under the title “Pain” – it is not pleasant to write about or read. I call it accidental abuse. I don’t think she meant it and I know she regrets it. She just couldn’t help herself. 

She grew up very poor even by Third World standards. Her clothes and shoes had holes, she was raised by my grandmother who was left at an orphanage at age 9. My mother had to help out in the family also at 9. She was the responsible one, taking care of her siblings. She was the problem solver in the family and ended up as a European history lecturer at the equivalent of a junior college, no small fear for someone with her background. 

She married my father who was from a wealthy family by Third World standards. I often wonder whether she did that just to get out of poverty.  In any case, it wasn’t the best outcome. My father’s family looked down on her. They did not treat her well. She once told me how she was crying alone in the bathroom with me when I was a baby because she was so frustrated. Her mother, my grandmother, wasn’t that loving with her either. She once told her that she wasn’t welcome in her home anymore because she was married.  

The strange thing in all of this is she’s the one who would probably understand my journey the most. I was a problem solver like her and taught for a good portion of my life. I also know what it’s like to be judged and bullied. But that’s all water under the bridge, mostly. She taught me a lot – directly and indirectly. 

I asked you about The Once and Future King because it is one of the most profound books on life I’ve found. I grew up with the Arthurian legends because Malaysia is a Commonwealth country with significant British influence. I learned a ton of British history even before I landed in the US. The Once and Future King is both hopeful and sad. Arthur, taught and guided by Merlin, envisions a kingdom where might can be used to ensure right. But he makes mistakes and has enemies. His best friend and most famous knight, Lancelot, has an affair with his wife. His son, unknowingly conceived with his half sister, hates and overthrows him. 

The last scene of the book, however, finds Arthur facing his eventual defeat with hope in the future he imagined. He doesn’t die because he is taken to Avalon to sleep until his return when England is facing its darkest hour. 

I tried to be a good leader.  It mattered a lot to me. It was difficult and painful. I had to carry many people, usually unnoticed and unappreciated. I was mostly ok with it because I believed in what Arthur did. That a good leader makes all the difference. 

How does this tie in with my mother? While I am somewhat like her, except I write much better poetry, I commuted myself to not do the negative things she did. She, however, did instill in me the desire to live a meaningful life. Maybe even a noble one. If was more costly than I could have imagined. I’ve led a lot and especially in NYC where I was surrounded by pretty unethical and power hungry types. It killed me.

But I still believe. My dissertation was on how leaders are affected by the environment. Without good leaders, people suffer. I served under amazing ones and some truly awful ones. It made me so upset. I tried to mitigate their behavior and even stop them. 

So I know I keep referring to the same friend – the undercover officer (I do have a good number of friends, I swear). We both said that the line between someone in our jobs and a criminal was very thin. The same skills that make one effective apply to the other. We both had similar difficulties – family, racism, church, etc. We could have gone bad but we didn’t. It was a choice as as well as the grace of God. I think of my own family, including my father’s side which was also tricky to deal with. I tried hard to not follow the negative behavior. My friend suffered for his beliefs and so did I. But we tried to do the right thing. I’ll speak for myself – my hands are clumsy but they are clean.

Like you, I didn’t enjoy reading the IB English books in the later year of high school. I barely understood the plot much less the deeper meanings and underlying themes. Till this day, I cannot for the life of me tell you what happened exactly in a majority of them. I found so many of them to be frankly depressing and pointless. I did like the books in the earlier years – especially those from other countries. 

I remember the Odyssey vividly. I didn’t appreciate Ulysses (my preference over Odysseus) until much later. I liked the more aggressive characters in the Iliad more, like Achilles and Ajax (whom I named a fish after, whom I believe our cat ate after his bowl was placed within reach). I thought Ulysses was too cunning for his own good. I eventually realized he was so much more than that – he had incredible fortitude and resilience to make it all the way home to Ithaca. 

 It dawned on me recently that when he told people his story, not everyone would be all that interested. I also don’t think words are adequate to describe some things we see. 

When I lived in Vienna for several months in 2011, I visited cities and other locations in Austria, Slovakia, the Czech Republic, Germany, Italy, Poland. It was memorable. I told my college roommate that I don’t thunk I’ve told anyone about all that I saw. I took photos of course but didn’t really write much about it. I’m not that cultured but I made sure to attend concerts, operas, and visit art museums. I didn’t really understand much but I know it affected me profoundly. 

I can’t remember if I mentioned this previously but I got assigned to work with the worst bully in my unit. In a strange foreshadowing way, she once worked at the NYC Department of Investigations where I would end up 4 years later, a place that can only be described as a snake pit. I do somewhat take her down and help some of those she antagonized. I barely remember her name now. I remember Rome, Venice, Florence, Berlin, Munich, Prague, Bratislava, Salzburg, Krakow, and all the places in between. 

I think the journey isn’t for others to understand but it’s nice to tell. It’s hard fo find someone who appreciates it – the smooth and rocky portions. The UN itself was also heavily bureaucratic. I was in the headquarters of the Office of Drugs and Crime. Again, in a bit of foreshadowing, I end up at NYPD headquarters 5 years later. That and the UN were remarkably similar. Many good, dedicated people dedicated to the mission stymied by politics and other negative elements.  

But I still find life. The cafeteria has great food, I meet interesting people including several Malaysians, and one of them is ————, whose name is remarkably similar to your middle name. I also meet a female astronaut and learn some Arabic from the language course offered. This is also when I go to Korea on a last minute UN mission. This is when I meet the Korean equivalent of the Attorney General and even some former students. In my spare time, I write lectures for a course that changes many lives – students, the community, and me. I also study for the foreign service exam. I learn basic negotiation and mediation skills at UN sponsored trainings. All these activists play a role later. I end up on a UN research team a year or two later, giving me an actual publication.  

Nothing is wasted. 

The dots connect. 

I think that’s how faith and life work. Ulysses learns all he needs on his voyage home to reclaim his throne and rescue his wife and son. One of the insights I picked up this year is that Athena, the goddess who loves him the most, doesn’t intervene or directly help hum all that much.  She does, but it’s at very specific times. I thought of why she is not as involved as one might imagine and I think it’s because in part, her assistance wouldn’t have been all that useful. 

Timing as they say is everything. And you came at exactly the precise time.

I know you don’t wear dresses much but I remember you on a few occasions in one. You were cute in them. I look back now, I wish I had asked you to go to a dance in high school. I didn’t think that was your thing. Memories like fingerprints are slowly raising. And hindsight, the clearest and most foolish sight of them all. 

I spent a good portion of my life surrounded by extroverts. Nothing wrong with them but one too many just liked talking too much. If you paid attention to what they said, you realize how shallow, and self-serving their words are. In my head, I often thought, please be quiet. I used to sing songs about my cat, gush about my turtles, and take pride in the personalities of my mice at my Boston church’s Bible study and grad program. Many would think I was immature and make fun of me. At that point, I had already worked on hundreds of cases including homicides, sexual assaults, child rape, drug dealing. I also started an outreach program for the Philadelphia Asian community. I was under 30. 

I usually don’t put down details of my cases in writing but for sone reason, I did on my blog once. It was hidden so I didn’t mind much. Maybe I was just discouraged at what I was seeing and not having enough light and love. 

A defendant rapes a victim. Shoves a gun up her privates. And shoots her in the left eye. 

How’s that for maturity? 

Maybe this is why I sang those songs. Watched every Red Sox game I could access and play Tetris during sermons. Maybe this is why I dreamt of seeing the world, eating sausages, drinking beer, and rolling on the rivers. Maybe this is why I don’t think swearing is really a big deal. 

And those cases weren’t even the half of it. Try being an Asian immigrant in the DC area at the age of 12 and the other things that Eddie Vedder sings about. These stories were part of my life. 

And the others. Dancing with every pretty girl I met. Even the girl I lit the candles for – a highlight of my life, Southern girls in North Carolina, my first love, the most gorgeous bridesmaid in the weddings I was a groomsman. 

And my daughter. 

Those cases were just a blip compared to those dances. Those were sacred, divine. The ones you remember like Michael Corleone in your last moments. The incarnation of grace in this existence. 

No words are needed.