August full moon

Tonight is the August full moon. Ting Wu, a childhood friend turned geneticist, reminds me that it is this particular full moon during which those who have gone before us are invited to visit us, and we have the chance to greet their souls.

Arriving with the moon, my mom has visited my dreams the past two nights. In one dream, she was rushing somewhere (mom did not tend to rush). I looked her in the eyes and said firmly, "Mom. Slow down. You have all the time in the world." Then I turned to the person I was with, shrugged and said, "Yeesh. Even when they're dead, you worry about them."

Ting and her brothers Ming, Ping, and Ying were among our closest friends when we were kids. Our dads taught together at Yale. I always loved going to visit the Wus in their magical house. They had a stream that went right through their living room; it ran into and through a shallow pool of granite rocks, just as you might see on a hike through the woods. Two rooms were adjoined by a window; you had to climb up and through to move through the house. Everything was designed to slow things down, to invite you to notice beauty.

At the Wus, something lovely was always happening. Their dad, Nelson, was carving a Chinese poem into the face of a stone. Our dads were singing or painting. Our moms were enjoying each other's easy, gentle companionship. At the August full moon, we sent lighted candles onto the pond to greet the souls of people who had gone before us. We watched koi shimmer in the water and ran in circles in long grass around the pond.

It is no surprise that Ting's daughter, Marie, has been visited often and regularly by her grandfather, Nelson, who died in 2002.

Once, at a lecture given in honor of Nelson's memory, Marie, then 11 years old, stood to ask the lecturer a question. Her voice was deep and strong, not at all characteristic of her. Her intonation was Nelson's, and everyone who had known him could hear his voice coming through a young girl's body. She asked in Nelson's strong and gentle voice: "In that painting of the grotto with two friends having tea, you spoke of Paradise." Then: "Is Paradise the place on which they gaze? Is Paradise the place in which they sit? Or is Paradise the place two friends feel when they share a cup of tea?"

The room was silent while everyone took in Marie, took in this young girl's very big question. What a wonderful visit they had all just had with Nelson!

Mom, Pop. Come visit tonight, if you can. I will meet you in Paradise. Together we can gaze upon Paradise. And in your company, I will feel the place called Paradise.