A Broken Vase

I am a broken vase. In many cultures, a broken vase is thrown away. But I heard that in classic Japanese society, a broken vase is treasured. A broken vase is resealed with gold. Therefore a broken vase is much more valuable than its original.

In a way, I am broken. My life has changed after the stroke in 2016. I had to close my firm end of 2017. I lost custody of four beloved children. I came back to my childhood home to recuperate. 

My stroke was caused by uncontrolled high blood pressure and probably also uncontrolled blood sugar. I was lucky because I was considered “young” at 46 to have suffered from stroke, and that it was a mild one. It was mere clotting and not haemorrhage. My right arm was affected. But my left hand could not tell the temperature of the iron, or the tap water. I could not stand up because I would fall down. I could not even take a bath. I did not eat for my entire period in the hospital. I had to be fed by a tube on a special milk. My vision was blurred and I could not see the clock on the wall.

(to continue)