Well-Wishing Lanterns

I thought for a long time about the design of the card I made my friend, Younga.

Younga's father passed away last year, and with the first Father's Day since he passed being today, Younga has been especially missing him. Grief is an malicious beast; it's surprising how one may feel fine - even happy - for long stretches of time, but when one least expects it, the hole in one's heart engulfs one's entire being and it seems like nothing can ever be all right again.

Last week, I asked Younga whether she was going to the cemetery today. She seemed to want to but said that her mother was reluctant to go with her since it would be too hard emotionally. "You can go anyway if you want to," I said gently. Younga smiled and shrugged a little and said nothing, but I sensed that she did wish that she could go.

I offered to accompany her to the cemetery. I felt that she needed support and a gentle push, especially since it would be her first difficult time returning to the cemetery since the funeral. "I know it's a very sad day for you, but we could make it a day filled with memories of your dad, and after you say hello to him, we could do something nice together and try to make it a pleasant day instead," I suggested. Younga took me up on my offer, and today, we made the trek out to the Long Island cemetery.

In Buddhist tradition, lanterns light the way of the deceased across the bridge of darkness. I thus used my treasured lantern stamps to make a sympathy card for Younga. It was a beautiful day today, bright and sunny. The cemetery was green and tranquil, the birds were chirping in the trees... and Younga got to give her dad flowers and wish him a Happy Father's Day.