You Make Choices That Are Good And

All Women On Earth-- And Men, Too For That Matter-- Hope For The Kind Of Love That Transforms Us, Raises Us Up Out Of The Everyday, & Gives Us The Courage To Survive Our Little Deaths: The Heartache Of Unfulfilled Dreams, Of Career And Personal Disappointments, Of Broken Love Affairs.

What Stays With Me Most Is A General Sense Of Loss, Unease, And Longing For The Past That Cannot Be Relieved.

We Hug, But There Are No Tears. For Every Awful Thing That's Been Said And Done, She Is My Sister. Parents Die, Daughters Grow Up And Marry Out, But Sisters Are For Life. She Is The Only Person Left In The World Who Shares My Memories Of Our Childhood, Our Parents, Our Shanghai, Our Struggles, Our Sorrows, And, Yes, Even Our Moments Of Happiness And Triumph. My Sister Is The One Person Who Truly Knows Me, As I Know Her. The Last Thing May Says To Me Is 'when Our Hair Is White, We'll Still Have Our Sister Love.

When I Knew I Couldn't Suffer Another Moment Of Pain, And Tears Fell On My Bloody Bindings, My Mother Spoke Softly Into My Ear, Encouraging Me To Go One More Hour, One More Day, One More Week, Reminding Me Of The Rewards I Would Have If I Carried On A Little Longer. In This Way, She Taught Me How To Endure — Not Just The Physical Trials Of Footbinding And Childbearing But The More Torturous Pain Of The Heart, Mind, And Soul.

In That Moment I Understood That The Cruelest Words In The Universe Are If Only.