Today marks the fifth seventh day since Mom passed away. My husband and I went out to buy flowers and brought them home. We placed them facing east.
To the east stand two Chinese toon trees growing from the same root. My parents planted them many years ago when they came to visit me. Today, they have grown taller than the house.
My brother told me, “Steamed buns for the first seventh day, dumplings for the third, and flowers for the fifth.”
On the first seventh day, my husband prepared the dough early. After I came home from work, I kneaded it and steamed the buns. Somehow, they turned out to be the best steamed buns I had ever made.
The day before the third seventh day was a Sunday. I made four kinds of dumplings. Pork and Chinese chive was the most traditional filling in our family. Pork and cabbage one was Mom especially liked. The other two were lamb and carrot, and scallion, egg, and dried shrimp.
On the third seventh day, there were four kinds of dumplings on the dining table—and four sets of bowls and chopsticks.
Then came the fifth seventh day. I went to two different stores and brought home flowers in all kinds of colors. Mom loved bright, vivid colors. I hope she likes these flowers.
The affairs of this world are endlessly tangled and unsettled. Perhaps my sensitive, perceptive mother had grown tired of it all. Five weeks ago, on that night, she fell asleep and never woke again.
And now, I can only see her in my dreams.
The flowers are there, facing east, blooming bright and vivid.
Note: In Chinese mourning tradition, the first seven weeks after a person’s death are marked in seven-day intervals. The first, third, and fifth “seventh days” are among the occasions when family members may honor and remember their loved one.
