Zikomo!

Part 1 of the sabbatical is complete.

Zikomo means thank you and my heart is definitely filled with thanks after returning home from Malawi. We’ve been supporting the work of charity:water for over a decade and it was always a hope that someday we’d be able to visit some water projects.  We were so grateful to make that happen this summer. 

Malawi is known as the “warm heart of Africa”.  At first I thought it was something that only foreigners said, but as we traveled throughout the country, it was clear that it’s a shared feeling from the people.  While being the 15th poorest country in the world, I was able to see richness in other ways. It’s a country of community, beauty, along with all needs of a developing country (i.e. water, roads, education).  

We had the privilege of visiting 4 different water projects during our trip. Water really does change everything.  We saw a live drilling of a well and saw the water burst up into the air.  There was dancing and joy all around.  We saw a community come together to organize and take long-term accountability for a water system that was shared with the local school.  And we saw the original water sources where all of these communities were getting dirty water within the last 12 months.  And we heard so many stories of celebration from (mostly) the women in the communities.

One reflection from this experience is that while I try to be efficient/effective with our giving, a life changed is a life changed… and it’s meaningful no matter what the exact ratio is. I’ve tried to get “the best deal” when choosing water projects (i.e. which can reach the most people for the same donation), but at the end of the day, every story of health and time matters.  It’s beautiful and humbling. 

If you'd like to know more about charity: water, please watch this. If you'd like to donate and bring clean water to an entire community, you can give here. I'm looking forward to the day everyone has access to life’s most basic need — clean and safe water.

Sabbatical

Starting up some notes for our 2nd worldwide peregrination. I'm officially off for 6 weeks after 6 years of tech startup life. Warren is taking a break after 12 years with Stanford. 

We have a 3-part trip planned. 

Part 0: Tori turns 2 on Sunday, so we celebrated today before our 6am flight tomorrow morning 

Part 1: Malawi with charity:water. (Jul 15-22)

We've been big supporters of the work for access to water and excited to visit some of the water projects. Warren and I are going on the trip without the kids so big thanks to Gong Gong and Poi Poi. 

Part 2: Denmark and Disney cruise (Jul 27-Aug 9)

Just call me a #disneyadult. Cruising was an idea of how to see multiple countries, but remembering this is our first international trip with the kiddos. 

Part 3: Boston (Aug 10-Aug 21)

It's our home away from home. Just hanging out without whoever is around. :)

Probably won't have as much time for stories, but will hopefully do a few photos along the way. 

Grateful for this season of exploring what God has for us to see, learn, and experience. 

In these small hours

To my (not so) little lobster,

Happy 9th heavenly birthday, my forever baby. Each year as March approaches, I start to think about what we’ll do for your anniversary and what I want to write to you.  This year, all plans are running a little behind schedule.  

Tomorrow we’ll call the local bakery and pay for a cake in celebration of you.  We’ll head to Skylawn and drop off some flowers.  We’ll sing happy birthday to you with your little sisters.  And then a lot of the day will feel “regular” - do some work, run some errands, go through our nighttime routine. 

That’s what I wanted to share with you.  When I think of you, I used to imagine all the big milestones that we missed - learning to walk or talk, your first day of school, your graduation, your wedding, and beyond. Now I wish for a regular, ordinary day with you.

One of my most cherished belongings is your infinity blanket.  Each year, Ivy Aiyi and your cousins/neighbors crochet a row for your birthday.  And then they add moments that happen throughout the year.  This year, we added going to Disneyland, getting a new car, and a water leak that flooded our house.  Other years, it might be your sister learning to walk or the time we gave lice… to everyone.  As I was touching each of these little moments, I reflected and shared, “there’s a lot of life after death”.  It’s these small moments that I long for now.

I wish you could join us for Ice Cream Friday’s.  I wonder what activity you would have picked when we do “family days” where everyone chooses 1 thing they want to do.  I imagine what it would have felt like to have you roll into our bed in the mornings when we’re packed like sardines…at least before you grew out of that stage.  I miss getting to know you.

Recently your dad played a song from an old(er) Disney movie that we like. It was before we had kids, but the meaning is much deeper now to me.  

The chorus says…

Our lives are made

In these small hours

These little wonders

These twists and turns of fate

Time falls away

But these small hours

These small hours

Still remain

(Song: Little Wonders by Rob Thomas)

Louie, in the twists and turns of fate, you remain with us in these small hours.  You still remain.  

I love you and miss you. 

Love, 

Mom, Dad, Lexi, Ellie, and Tori

Wave of Light 2022

 Dear friends and family, 

It’s that time of year again. The Wave of Light is a tradition for our family to remember Louie and other little ones who are no longer with us. October 15 is infant & pregnancy loss remembrance day and observed through the international wave of light. We invite you to light a candle tomorrow (or send "light" thoughts/prayers) from 7pm-8pm in your local time zone. 

Tomorrow I will be at an event with charity:water and was reminded of Louie’s well. As I step out to light a candle, I always imagine the wave of light that walks across the world connecting us all.  Even in our darkest moments, we wanted his life and memory to be honored with hope and meaning. We hope to make him proud with the life we live on earth.  

These days, I’m delighted that there continue to be more moments of joy than sadness and do not take this for granted. Our family of “all girls” as we hear so often is filled with loudness, laughter, fights, whining, and squeals.  While it can be a bit cacophonous in our home, I know that it’s better than the silence.  

Louie, you are ever present in our family. We miss you every day.  

Wishing peace and love to those who have experienced loss and grief (in many forms) these last few years.  You are not alone and we are all connected.  For those who have your loved ones around, please give them a hug. And for those who have lost loved ones, we are here to carry on your love.

(Visiting Alive and Kicking Lobster - Louie’s namesake - during our summer Boston trip)

Beyond the horizon

My dearest Louie,

This is the first year that I got your birthday year mixed up. I couldn’t remember if it was 7 or 8 years. What a surprise to me that the number wasn’t etched into my heart and brain. Happy 8th birthday, my little lobster. 

As I was reflecting on what to write in your birthday letter for this year, I thought of a poem that a family member sent to me in the first few days after your passing. It has always stayed with me and brought me comfort. 

“Life is eternal; and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight. - Rossiter Worthington Raymond

This year, we took our first vacation outside of the Bay Area since the pandemic started.  We went to Hawaii.  After looking at photos, I realized it was one of the few places that we took you before you were gone.  I had forgotten how majestic the sunsets are. When I’m out in nature - near the ocean, in particular - I think of you. I think of you beyond the horizon - where heaven touches the earth.

In the early days, your dad and I started to write your name in the sand near oceans. We would write your name and then watch it wash away.  Sometimes we didn’t even finish your name before the waves crashed over.  The fleeting nature was fitting for how little time we had together. 

As we wrote your name in the sand during this trip, it was lovely to see how your little sisters joined the ritual as well.  They miss you too.  I’ve been moved in the recent years seeing how they are building their own relationship with you.  

I think of you in Hawaii as it's a rare place where all of my children have been, though 8 years apart. And so perhaps time is just the limit of our sight while we are on earth.

Until we reunite in heaven, you go wherever we go.  You are part of every family trip.  We miss you and love you.

Wave of Light 2021

 Dear friends and family, 

It’s that time of year again. The Wave of Light is a tradition for our family to remember Louie and other little ones who are no longer with us. October 15 is infant & pregnancy loss remembrance day and observed through the international wave of light. We invite you to light a candle tomorrow (or send "light" thoughts/prayers) from 7pm-8pm in your local time zone. 

We welcomed Tori to our home this year. I had truthfully hoped to have another son, but she made her very own plans. She was born with a full head of hair, just like her big brother. In these early days, I'm acutely aware of what we missed out on with Louie. I can't imagine him as a big kid, but I always remember him as a baby. We continue to feel lucky to have children who are growing and we can continue to hug each day.

With “all girls” (at home), we try to weave Louie’s life and death into our everyday life as we wait on a heavenly reunion. Lexi now regularly makes drawings for her brother and talks about him to her classmates.

The girls are also really into tattoos these days, so I found some old temporary ones from when I was deciding on a permanent tattoo for myself.  It was lovely to remember him together.

I hope your family is staying safe. For your loved ones who are around, please give them an extra hug tonight. Every hug is a gift. For those who have lost loved ones, I hope you can imagine that wave of light that walks across the world connecting us all.

What is grief, if not love persevering?

Dear Louie,

Over the years, I’ve collected grief quotes to articulate my ever-evolving feelings for you. This one randomly came from Marvel’s WandaVision.

“But what is grief, if not love persevering?”

That’s the thing with grief in year 7. It can come in the ordinary days and it can come in the momentous milestones. It’s been awhile since I’ve broken down in the tsunami of grief. These days it’s more like a bubbling stream… in the backdrop of the scene rather than taking up all of the space. 

So I think about what has persevered through the years...

I know that life does not guarantee even one minute for each person, so I lean into gratitude for all the minutes I’ve experienced in my life and our family on earth. 

I know that many families are incomplete and what I see isn’t the full story of a family’s hopes or suffering, so I can hold space for those who are not pictured. 

I know that I miss you dearly and the longing will always be there, and I cherish that part of my heart that is only available to you. 

I know that my love for you always perseveres. 

For your birthday this year, your dad has arranged to pay for birthday cakes from a favorite local bakery.  We hope we can bless another family, who is lucky enough to celebrate a day as special as your birthday.

Happy 7th birthday, Louie! 

Love,

Mom