Winter Weekend Getaway in NYC

IMG_0285, originally uploaded by wangzi123.

We had a wonderfully relaxing weekend in NYC!

Visited favorite places in the city: time square, the Met, Grand Central Terminal, and the 5th avenue.Window shopping was fun. The architecture of the grand central was stunning. It never bored me just wataching people in ther main concourse. The exibition of Mattise work was very well organized and educational. The encounter of Bernini's clay sculptures brought fond memory of Rome.

We did something that we had wanted to do for long time --watched broadway show Chaplin. It was great theater experice and great performance.

We kind of changed the way how we picked places to eat. More laid back, more spontaneous, more of my style:) Instead of doing tons of research to find one or two restaurants to go, we played it by ear and just walked in the deli, diner, or restaurants where was full of local New Yorkers. It all turned out good. Lucky us.

We just talked, talked and talked, Endless talk:) It was really good getaway.

Train talk

12/12/12: not a bad day

Today was just another ordinary day. As a matter of fact, it was a fine day. It was chilly but not freezing. Acting as a sales man, Xiaozi sold a few his tools at Home Depot in NYC. I attended the global company broadcast in the morning. Those patient videos were always motivating and touching for me. It was nice to have human touch. Had a relaxing lunch with my mentor and once manager. We talked about work, exchanged ideas and shared some personal experiences. Had a nice performance review meeting with the manager this afternoon. It was of course positive, but more importantly, it was very candid and sincere. I found myself touched again, twice today.


i am going to run a few miles and get sweaty, thinking it is not a bad day at all.

Type A Thymoma

Got a brief update from Ben.  The initial pathological result shows my dad had primary Type A thymoma. The most benign type of thymoma! The 15-year survival rate is nearly 100%! Never been so thrilled about stastitics!

A couple calls & other random stuff

|June’s Call|


June called and expressed her concern and best wishes to my dad last night. It was very sweet of her. During the call, we also shared our fun and frustrating experiences of furniture hunting. Just like old time, I didn’t feel the geographic distance between her and me. In the end, June said I could always call her whenever I felt like. I know she is one phone call away, literally.

June found out my dad’s situation in my blog. I was a little surprised, although I really shouldn’t because I know a few friends read my blog. It just never occurred to me that someone I know and know me as well would read what I was going to write, when I was writing. The only reader I may think of is myself, sometime a present self, more often a future self. Would it make difference if someone else is reading? Why did I forget the fact? Do I have any dark sides or privacy that I don’t want to share even with friends? One may assume that I forget the fact that my friends will read my journal to enable myself be100% revealing and honest. But the truth is, I am honest with my friends as with myself, at least I think. Maybe rare, but I do occasionally have dark things that I want to hide and keep to myself. If I feel something really dark and low, I would be probably busy with dealing with it myself and have no mood whatsoever to write a journal. The process is rather intuitive and private. I noticed it. Afterwards, I can still talk about it if the topic happens to arise among friends. Old conclusion: I am neither reserved nor complex although I believe I have matured a lot in the past few years.

Will continue the way I write my journals. I should do it more frequently. It definitely helps, in many ways. Diane Keaton’s late mother used to write down her life and thoughts all the time, even in her later years of fighting again Alzheimer’s.

|Mom’s Call|

Mom sounded tired. She sure was tired. It was 9:30PM in China and she was in the hotel after another long day in the hospital to take care of my dad. She also sounded optimistic. She generously praised my dad’s mental and physical strength. Using her words, nurses and physicians were very impressed by all the normal and healthy results of blood work and examines, except the little benign thymoma in his body. “Your dad doesn’t look like a 70-year old guy. Everybody said so.” “You know it is normally difficult for your dad to smile, but that day he was waving to us with a big and confident smile when he was sent to the surgery room. ” Tears came into my eyes as it is the first time that my mom was so proud of dad. I encouraged her to tell dad about this every day.

3 days after the surgery, dad has some common post surgery symptoms and is still lack of appetite. Overall, his recovery is going well. Fingers crossed.

|Other random things|

The King’s Speech is a fine movie, but not particularly good. Moneyball is a good and typical Hollywood movie. The central meaning of the movie is very clearly conveyed and no guess or deep thoughts are needed. Both are kind of predictable.

When Brad Pitt’s character Billy Beane decided to turn down the huge offer from Red Sox, a $12MM contract, I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry. According to the movie, Billy had made a wrong decision to join the major baseball league and give up Stanford’s scholarship after high school, and he didn’t want to repeat the mistake again since his daughter lives with his divorced wife in west coast and they didn’t want him to live that far away in east coast. I got the point that family is more important than money; besides, he has got sufficient money to have a comfortable life anyway. My point is that by accepting the offer supported his first big decision. It is like double negative equals positive. He should have accepted it even just for money’s sake. I think.

I fell in love with my old black wool coat with slouchy loose sleeves these days. Like to wear it with all buttons buckled, including the top one. I looked like “a little witch” according to one colleague of mine, who spotted me walking in the parking lot with my big black tote and black boots. Yes, woman in black.

I enjoyed using my waterless cookware to prepare dinner. Easy, quick, tasty and no oil spill over the oven. Still experimenting, I think the fish and vegetable mixed dish can be presentable. Can’t wait to let xiaozi try and score it this weekend.

Then Again

Diane Keaton’s autobiography Then Again has been on display on the front shelves of the library for a long while. Every time I passed by, I admired her smile and style. Not until last weekend, I went to the library and decided to take this book home. I don’t know what got into me, but all of sudden, I became so curious about her.


It is fascinating to read someone’s life and one’s honest self reflections, especially when one narrates with self mocking humor. Diane Keaton is a master of taking herself seriously and not that seriously. Then Again is really a memoir of her own and her mother. Their own words are intertwined. I see the likeness and differences between the mom and the daughter. They have lots in common, such as the pursue of artistic ways to express themselves, but their lives are different, a world famous, never-married and wonderful actress with two adopted kids vs. a loving housewife who married to the guy with love at first sight and raised four kids, but struggled to have her own shine in the entire life.

Just read the chapter of Woody Allen’s letters to her. They were hilarious and made me smile. Of course, Diane Keaton’s love affairs with three great film makers or actors are interesting. And others as well. At age 50, Diane Keaton adopted her daughter and then her son. She was 65 while writing this book and is a mom of two teenagers. Only half way through the book, I look forward to more stories, about herself, about her mom and her adopted daughter and son. So far so good.

When I first came to the US, I made quick friends or friendly acquainted with a young couple. The wife and I took strolls together and had very nice chats a few times; the husband, a very well trained amateur tennis player, and I played tennis a few times. That was about it. Once they told me that I would be like Diane Keaton when I get older, much older. Back then I didn’t even know for sure who Diane Keaton was. I took it as a compliment anyway because both of them are fan of Diane Keaton. Maybe I asked why, and forgot what they said. Now I know something about Diane Keaton, and still don’t know why my then new friends thought so. I was 10 years younger, probably about 10 pounds heavier, and was always wearing clothes which were too loose on me. I was so terribly naïve for my age and such a day dreamer that I was a bit stupid, in my today’s eyes. It remains a mystery, a nice mystery, why the couple said something so sweet since I lost contact with them after we moved a year later.

手术成功了

７：５８AM，１２月４日, 星期二。弟弟来电话：爸爸手术成功，胸腺瘤和术前发现的肺部小结节没有关系，都是良性的。我眼眶一热，听到一块石头掉下去的声音。我说：知道了，我们去庆祝一下。弟弟笑，问：你和谁去庆祝，怎么庆祝。和你们庆祝，在心里欢呼着庆祝。




后来冷静了。重新戴回医生的帽子，拜托师兄去了解分期和细胞类型。我很有信心。我知道爸爸躺在病床上也很有信心。我想用医学知识强化我们的信心。



爸爸进手术室的时候，是我们的晚上。小子紧张得睡不着，打电话来讨论，如何做好各种思想准备。我只好安慰他：咱们的爸爸，你的岳父，会手术顺利，一切都将是良性的，我有８０％的信心。后来我躺在床上，想象着整个过程，爸爸被推进手术室，全麻，开刀，等切片结果。我希望自己能够在手术室外面，能够和家人在一起。皮肤肯定感受到了，手上湿症发作得很突然很厉害，我看到一颗颗的水泡起来，然后被我自虐着抠了又抠，那细微的疼痛感似乎有安慰镇定作用。



住院，手术，都顺利完成了。现在是康复。很想知道，爸爸在想什么呢？进手术室是什么心情，等待着全麻是什么心情，术后呢？假如这是爸爸的新人生体验，我想参与其过程，是女儿，是曾经的医生，是正在学习人生哲学的学生。

爸爸

daddy 2, originally uploaded by wangzi123.

12月了。2012年的最后一个月。Paul Auster在他的自传冬天的日记里，最后写：A door has closed. Another door has opened. You have entered the winter of your life. ６４岁，进入人生的最后一个季节，似乎合情合理。

这是个阴冷的周末。没有任何必须完成的任务，是个轻松的周末。和同事谈笑风声吃了一个马拉松的日式自助餐。去了两家常常出没的咖啡店。逛街，整理衣橱，雷厉风行又扔了一大袋旧衣服；这个冬天我要重新整理衣橱，要改头换面。和小子电聊，探讨一个在我的大脑里停留以久的话题，用书面语大概可以总结成：如何不断追求进步追求哪方面的进步。言辞有些激烈，刚好站在卧室的大镜子前面，我看到一个激动的，严肃的，两眼放光的，自己。小子的手机没电，我们约好见面继续。

这个阴冷的周末，去跑了一场步。全程想的是亲爱的爸爸。想着和爸爸对话，想着最近爸爸写给我的邮件，想着和家人的对话关于爸爸，想着进入人生最后一个季节的爸爸，和他正在面临的一个手术：胸腺瘤切除术。

爸爸回国后体检发现胸腺瘤。在读到消息的瞬间，我腿都软了。这之后，爸爸和我频频写邮件。

爸爸写：昕儿，放心，肿瘤很小，手术就当是新的人生体验了。

爸爸收到我寄出的包裹后（在查出肿瘤之前寄出的）：昕儿，真是见信如面啊！你的手写信把我带回我们一起生活的美好点滴，都是值得反复回味的记忆。

爸爸写：昕儿，你真的放心，我现在很注意保养自己，吃得好，睡得好，穿得暖，很健康地很有信心地迎接手术的到来。

爸爸写：一家人都因为我的病辛苦了。

在电话里，爸爸再次说：大家都为我服务，辛苦了。我大笑鼓励：爸爸，这太应该了，你要痛快地享受这个被服务的优待。爸爸乐：我很享受，被服务很好。

弟弟妹妹都写信来。文字里的情感让我感动。很想拥抱他们。我写了长长的信，感谢有他们在爸爸妈妈的身边，感谢他们对爸爸妈妈的照顾。就象他们写信来谢谢我和小子让爸爸妈妈的美国行快乐。无论我们在哪儿，长多大了，为人父母了，都还是赤子之心。

大雁一群一群地飞过。运河路已经萧条。一路跑，一路想。想着家人的情感，想着人生的冬季，想着Paul Auster书里提到的那句话：The end of life is bitter. One must die lovable (if one can). 想着爸爸跟我说过的话：走向衰老死亡肯定是痛苦的，是不可避免的，我只想尽量延长自己独立生活的时间。想着爸爸再次为我们树立了坚强从容的榜样。家人，爸爸，手术，和形而上关于死亡的哲学，交织在一起。几度，情绪涌上来，不得不跑慢下来，停下来，缓和瞬间的胸闷，和夺眶而出的眼泪。

师兄帮忙，爸爸已经住进医院，等待手术。师兄的短信：肿瘤边界清晰，和大血管有足够距离，应该不是一个复杂的手术，不要紧张。

跑完步，我不紧张了。就和爸爸一起，等待一个成功的手术，等待一场顺利的术后康复，等待回到正常后，我们的如释重负和经历过后的沉淀。