We went to a Buddhist temple in San Marcos today to pray for my Dad. I didn’t get to do it on the second anniversary of his death in April. Tomorrow is Father’s Day, so I felt the need to go and pray for him.
Mr. O and the kids went along with me. We met the head monk and introduced ourselves. He was very cordial and welcoming; he told us that the prayer hall is opened every day and everyone is welcome to come for meditation or prayers.
The monk helped us lighting up incense sticks; I had three, Mr. O and the kids each had one. We all knelt down in silence the fragrant of burning smoke swirled above our heads as we prostrated three times with prayers.
Solemnity struck a cord within me. I cried.
I just couldn’t help holding back the tears. I was on my knees for about five minutes, and I just cried. I prayed that my Dad would have arrived somewhere peaceful, and would find himself entering the valley of rebirth. I prayed that in his next life time he would have both parents, and to know exactly the date of his birth. I prayed that somewhere and somehow, he would think of us too.
After that, the monk then he took us on a tour the temple ground. It’s a small temple, but in a nice location, a bit elevated, and nestled in between old and new house development as well as commercial buildings. The monk told us that they just purchased the connecting land of about seven ares to expand the temple in the near future. He even showed us the blueprints of the expansion and it seems a beautiful place for spiritual retreat. However, it will take a few more years to raise the fund and to break the ground for construction.
It’s half June already?
We took the kids to a Gap outlet to get them some summer clothes. The ones I have saved from last summer have now become small for them. They outgrown most of those.
Mr. O, as a fashionista as he is, also picked up a whole lot of shorts and shirts for his summer outfits.
Photos of the kids on their last day of school.