My 73 hours would be mostly spent flying if I knew earlier when---not necessarily to be precise---I were to die, as least ahead of three month. I was so lucky that I got my visa and maybe passport---if it was needed---just the three days before I died.
Before boarding the airplane I kissed good-bye to my dearest parents, whom I have spent with for nearly twenty years, whom I respect, love, and hold gratitude most. Surely I cried, and so did they. I kept silent, but blessed for them in my heart. After the plane took off, sitting comfortably in the economy class, I took out my pen and paper, as I wasn't allowed to use my laptop on the plane, beginning to write a letter to my parents. This was supposed to be very long, so I started it out early.
During my layover in Japan, I brought two small wooden handcrafted carvings of cherry trees with blossoms, one for my parents and the other kept until I reached my last destination. I resumed writing after re-boarding.
Some eight hours flowed away. Getting tired of seeing the ocean far below, I was excited to see the land again. Oh, Canada! When I set my foot at the airport in Vancouver, my dream came alive! Since I started to learn English, like many others, I'd dreamt of going out to see the world, to experience another culture, and to enjoy different landscapes. I didn't have many choices as only three days were left in my life, Canada becoming the priority.
The next morning I arrived in Ottawa where my little cousin lives with her family. My aunt picked my up at the airport and drove me home. It was Sunday and no clases for her, her girl, and her husband. My cousin, who was much taller than the last time I saw her, once wrote to me complaning she was lonely and asking me to play with her. I replied joking that I didn't have wings or money. Now it all became true. After I played with her for a while, I remembered that when she was about three years I hit her head only because she didn't listen to me. She probably left it behind, but I didn't. Without her noticing I wrote an apologizing note in Chinese and put it on her bed. I hoped she would be able to read it, since she began to throw her Chinese away. Why didn't I write in English? Because, before I died, I wished to give her a Chinese lesson one more time.
After breakfast, I visited the universities in where Aunt and Uncle studied. My cousin suggested me taking a short tour to her school, and I gladly agreed. I'd done a lot of sightseeing during the day. I did not tell them I was going to die the day after tomorrow, because I hated to see others weeping especially for me. In the evenning I headed back to the west of Canada. When the plane was about to touch down in Toronto, I finished up my letter. I boarded another plane to continue my flight to my destination. I woke up just before the plane reached Vancouver.
Looking at the apple trees passed by along the highway, I had forgotten all about death. Joy had got the better of sadness that I would never be going to see my parents again. Very soon would I be able to see my friend who lives in a small town sitting in a valley! :-)
She was very surprised to see me standing on the porch. I walked up to her, smiling, and gave her a big, real hug. That was what I planned---to give her an unexpected surprise. I made it!
I feel incompetent every time I'd like to reveal my real feelings to people I love, but this time I gathered all my courage to talk to her how much her care and help meant to me. She extended me the first opportunity to feel "virtual" love. For a girl she had never met her help contains no selfishness, which is rare in cyberspace, to say nothing of reality.
I took out one of the wooden carvings I bought in Japan and handed to her as a present to her and her husband. I hoped she would know the cherry flower symbolizes diligence, bravery, and wisdom. Japanese regard it as the spirit of grace, vigorousness, delicacy and the down-to-earth.
I used up another joyful day in Canada. I left for a post office after supper to send my parents the other carving and the letter, in which I asked them to adopt a child. When they got too old to take care of themselves, he or she would take my place, and I believe, they would be looked after very well.
Within the next few hours I wandered on a volcanic mountain called Mount Boucherie where situates my friend's house. Then I sat under a lofty tree, closed my eyes, reluctantly yet contentedly, waiting for God of Death walking near...
