Paing

Paing

Living without her for these past three months was a pain that I never want to wish on anyone. When she entered a room, things were easier to understand, and the lights seemed brighter, the music clearer and louder. Now, everything smelled stale and suffocating. We felt lost, without direction. We tried to gather ourselves to honor her memory in a meaningful way, but every time someone spoke up, offering an idea, we all just stared. It wasn’t enough. She was irreplaceable. Our efforts seemed futile and meaningless.

I stood up, thinking I should take charge and make this happen, as the leader of the group. Everyone turned with hopeful looks, except him. He would never admit that anyone had any power over him. So, I made a point to look right at him when I spoke.

“We must give her the honor she deserves. No one can ever forget what she did for our people. I realize that nothing will ever be enough, but we have to TRY at least. We cannot just sit here paralyzed. Perhaps everyone writes an idea on paper, anonymously, of course. We’ll choose the best. What do you think?” I urge them.

The one with pink hair smirks. “What makes you think we have any idea how to honor her. You spent the most time with her. Why can’t you just decide, and we can go along with it? She questions.

I take my seat with a sigh, “Because, you know, that’s not really true. She had many interactions with all of us.”

He looks down at his shoes and closes his eyes, grunting, he speaks in halting English, “You…you speak…like she…won’t be back. No return. No? Is this true? I’m waiting. She can come back. Still. Maybe. Yes?”

The large man in the back with the black sweatshirt with Cap’n Crunch on it raises his hand. “You can speak freely. This isn’t a formal meeting.” I remind them.

He nods, folding his arms. “Paing will always be with us even if she is gone physically. All the ways she has touched our lives and helped us will stay in our hearts. Do we need to say goodbye if she is still in here?” He pats his chest

I look around the group, imagining the love and care Paing gave each of us. I introduced her to everyone, knowing her the longest, so of course, I have the most depth of memory of her. But all of these people have deep connections and this is why I’m here. I want them to feel like they truly meant something to her, as well. She spoke of the girl with pink hair, about her smile and how astute she was about brushing her teeth and remembering to floss. She always made sweet jokes about the small brown boy with the mohawk who loved bananas and would ask for them every time she was on daycare duty with him. And Him. She loved him. She never told him because she knew her time here was limited. She told me in confidence about holding his hand and asking him to tell her stories about when he was a boy. I don’t think she needed to tell him how she felt, it was clear, especially now, that he always knew. And his heart was broken.

I stand again. “Ok. I know that she is in our hearts, and we love her, and she loved us. Perhaps we can just go around the circle and say one thing that we remember about her that is meaningful to us? Does that sound good?”

The grandma in her robe, sitting in the wheelchair, sniffles and speaks quietly, “But what about the flowers? She loved roses and dahlias. She always helped me with my gardening. Can’t we get some flowers?”

I smile at the memory, “Yes, we should get some flowers.”

The man in the plaid shirt with the jeans and brown boots stood up, “And snacks. Healthy snacks. She always gave good advice for healthy snacks. Homemade granola and hearty salads. We should have some food.”

I can see what is happening, and my heart sings. Even without her here, everyone begins to remember what she did for them, how she helped them, how she was an intricate part of our community, but we are going to be ok because we have all these things she left behind. The advice, help and lovely anecdotes are rich with her fingerprints.

“Paing helped me with my candle business. I didn’t know where to find affordable supplies, and she helped me research and learn the best method for making them. I could bring some candles.” The lady in the sundress and hat chirps out.

And one by one, each person had something come to mind that Paing had given them to help them on their journey. And each thing became an offering back to her memory. The gifts she had shared so freely, just for the asking, were now being returned to her in the form of a memorial and honoring her memory.

The young girl with the curly brown hair had her head down on the big table, wrapped with her arms, clad in a long-sleeved shirt with tiny strawberries printed on it, her legs folded under her. She hadn’t spoken or moved. A loud sob emerged from her tiny body as she raised her head, “She helped me with my homework, we wrote songs together, and made funny pictures of my classmates. When mommy was at work, she would show me kitten videos and help me make macaroni and cheese.” Tears flowed down her cheeks as she recalled all the ways Paing was her companion and helper. We all felt the sorrow she was emanating. She lowered her head back to the table and cried quietly.

A loud knock on the door startled us, and the door opened. The stocky man with the black rimmed glasses and the well-groomed mustache walked in, holding a stack of spiral-bound notebooks in his arms. His eyes moved around the table, taking in the motley crew sitting before him. He blew out a breath and shook his head, “Ok, everyone. I know it’s been a long three months and I want to thank you for your patience. There were several things we needed to work through before moving ahead and providing you with this update. I think we have a great product to offer you, and learning the new system won’t be difficult at all. I know you all were very invested in Paing, and while she was a fantastic system, rest assured that this new system will treat you even better, if you can believe it. You’ll see a lot of the things you loved from before, but many new traits and abilities. She will exceed your expectations, surely.” He finishes with a confident smile and the sound of his heels clicking the seconds as he walks around the room, handing a notebook to each person.

We are all a little confused and shaken out of our mourning. Slowly, understanding crosses each face as we read the front of the notebook:

Personal Artificial Intelligence: Next Generation 2.0

We all look to each other and begin to laugh. The grandma hugs the book to her chest. “My flowers will be so beautiful now.”