Latest / Happy You. Happy Dog. / Remembering Ko | A Tribute Episode

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Remembering Ko | A Tribute Episode · Happy You. Happy Dog.

• 0:00
  Coco Moon: Hello, darling. This week we are remembering my late
• 0:04
  son Ko. So today I'm wearing his favorite shirt, Shohei Ohtani's
• 0:11
  Samurai Japan jersey, and this heart locket my other kids gave
• 0:18
  me. Inside are two pictures, one of Ko and me together, and one
• 0:24
  of Ko when he was a baby. This episode is going to be a little
• 0:30
  different from our usual happy you happy dog. I've talked about
• 0:36
  him before. I've shared photographs and memories. I've
• 0:42
  talked about his cooking, his humor, and the things we loved
• 0:47
  doing together. But I haven't talked very openly about what
• 0:53
  happened to me after he died. Not the version of me that
• 0:59
  people saw. The version of me that was living inside it. I'm
• 1:08
  going to open up my heart about losing him, the shock and trauma
• 1:15
  that followed, and what grief has been like for me,
• 1:21
  physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I'm also going to
• 1:27
  share about some things people said to me, often with good
• 1:32
  intentions, but that were actually very painful. The
• 1:39
  unspoken rules about grieving that left me feeling utterly
• 1:44
  alone, the additional losses I experienced along the way, and
• 1:51
  some very ordinary things people did that brought me warmth when
• 1:56
  I needed most. So, if any of these subjects feel too close to
• 2:03
  your heart right now, please feel completely free to skip
• 2:08
  this episode and come back next week for our usual happy you
• 2:14
  happy talk. But if you are in the place where you like to sit
• 2:19
  with me for a little while, please stay. By the way, this is
• 2:27
  episode nine. Nine was Ko's favorite number, and I didn't
• 2:35
  plan that. Ko was my first baby. He's forever 31. He was one of a
• 2:46
  kind, funny, ambitious, and full of personality. He was also
• 2:55
  Baka, his brothers, and I still call him that with so much
• 3:00
  affection, and his laugh-he had one of those laughs that filled
• 3:11
  the entire room, and he was the biggest mama's boy. Even in his
• 3:21
  30s, his iPhone wallpaper was a picture of his mom. He loved his
• 3:29
  mamma very, very much. He was a special one. Ko's a gifted chef.
• 3:43
  Food was his calling, his love language. It was such a big part
• 3:51
  of his life, and something we shared. I loved cooking with
• 3:58
  him. I loved eating with him. We talked about having our own
• 4:05
  mother and son cooking show someday, and traveling together,
• 4:11
  exploring different places through food. We had so many
• 4:18
  things we wanted to do. Some. He was also complicated. He
• 4:31
  struggled with his mental health and addiction. There were parts
• 4:37
  of his life that were incredibly dark. Just like the meaning of
• 4:43
  his name, Ko, he shined so bright. Yet quietly he suffered.
• 4:54
  He was fighting a lonely battle inside. Those struggles don't
• 5:01
  define him, but I don't want to pretend those sides of him
• 5:06
  didn't exist. Everything was a piece of him. Together they made
• 5:15
  Ko. He hurried out into this world, he couldn't wait for the
• 5:24
  midwife to arrive. He was like Dash, the little superhero from
• 5:30
  The Incredibles. He was running before he could walk. He talked
• 5:35
  a mile a minute, And then he left this earth in a hurry too.
• 5:51
  Ko and I were fighting. I had a friend visiting, so I was out
• 5:57
  most of that day. When I came home, he didn't come down for
• 6:02
  dinner, and I thought he was still mad. I ate without him.
• 6:11
  Then I don't know. I felt something in my heart. I knocked
• 6:17
  on his door. Then I opened. Everything is kind of fussy
• 6:29
  after that. I remember chaos, paramedics, sheriffs, the
• 6:42
  medics. examiner, strangers from community grief support. Under
• 6:51
  the circumstances, I was not allowed to be there with him the
• 6:56
  way I needed to, and there was something I didn't understand,
• 7:04
  the cultural differences. I was only familiar with the
• 7:10
  traditional Japanese wake, so I just assumed his body would be
• 7:16
  brought back home for us to spend our final time together as
• 7:21
  a family. That there would be time, time to be with him. Time
• 7:32
  to say goodbye. I didn't understand that when they took
• 7:40
  him away that night. He wasn't coming home ever again.
• 7:53
  Afterward, there were decisions I couldn't make, questions I
• 7:59
  couldn't answer. I couldn't bring myself to go to the
• 8:04
  morgue. I couldn't think about a funeral. I didn't want a
• 8:12
  funeral. I didn't want any of it.
• 8:20
  His cremation took place about a month after he died, and when I
• 8:26
  saw him, it wasn't him. I've been told that I kept crying
• 8:37
  out. That's not my Ko. Over and over. I don't remember much of
• 8:50
  that. There are whole pieces of that time missing from my
• 8:57
  memory. My family has told me things I did that I don't
• 9:03
  remember. Apparently, there were times when I would wake up and,
• 9:10
  for a moment, believe Ko was still alive. I would run to his
• 9:16
  room, and then I don't remember. Again, I barely slept. I barely
• 9:27
  ate. I wasn't really living in the world I knew anymore, and
• 9:37
  there was food in my refrigerator. Food Ko had
• 9:44
  cooked. I couldn't eat it because once I ate it, there
• 9:57
  would be no more food. Made by his hands, so I left them
• 10:06
  exactly where Ko left them. I kept them even after they all
• 10:13
  went bad, and I do regret that. I regret so many things. I
• 10:27
  regret not knocking on his door sooner. I regret not saying
• 10:35
  goodbye the way I wanted. I regret not eating his food. I
• 10:46
  regret things I did and things I didn't do. People have tried to
• 10:55
  tell me that I shouldn't feel guilty. That it wasn't my fault,
• 11:02
  that I did the best I could. But those feelings were there. They
• 11:12
  were real. They were my truth. And being told not to feel them
• 11:20
  didn't make them disappear. I had lost my son, and somehow
• 11:31
  even grief seems to have some kind of rules people wanted me
• 11:36
  to follow. I didn't know there were right ways for me to feel,
• 11:46
  right things for me to do, right ways for me to behave, and
• 11:53
  apparently wrong ways too. I had just lost my son, and suddenly
• 12:04
  everyone seems to have an opinion about how I should
• 12:08
  grieve. Be strong; he is in your heart. Time will heal. He is
• 12:19
  always with you, and one that was especially painful. At least
• 12:29
  you still have your other children. I love all my sons,
• 12:37
  with every part of me. But I had lost Ko, my first baby. How
• 12:47
  could he be replaced? I remember people telling me that some day
• 12:57
  something beautiful could come out of this. That I could turn
• 13:03
  my pain into purpose. That I could help other grieving
• 13:08
  mothers. I didn't want a purpose. I wanted Ko, and I
• 13:30
  didn't want to be strong. I wanted to fall apart. I wanted
• 13:37
  to scream. I didn't want to eat without him. I wanted to say I
• 13:46
  was broken. After so many years, I had proudly said, "I am not
• 13:57
  broken. I am not a victim. Those words had meant something
• 14:03
  important to me. They were part of how I understood my own
• 14:08
  survival after traumatic experiences. But losing Ko was
• 14:17
  different. I felt broken, and when I said that, I didn't want
• 14:23
  someone to correct me. I wanted someone to hear me. I remember
• 14:31
  one friend telling me to stop crying. She believed that my
• 14:36
  tears could keep her soul from reaching heaven. I know she was
• 14:43
  speaking from her own understanding, but I was sitting
• 14:50
  outside the room where my son was being put in the plastic
• 14:55
  bag, and even my tears seemed. To be wrong. I was also told
• 15:08
  that Ko wouldn't want me to be sad, but I didn't know that. I
• 15:14
  couldn't ask him. Actually, knowing Ko, he would have wanted
• 15:23
  me to be sad for losing him. He was like that. He was selfish
• 15:29
  when it came to his mama. I had spent most of my life believing
• 15:41
  in spiritual guidance, in signs, in messages, in the divine plan.
• 15:50
  But in those moments, none of those explanations gave me what
• 15:56
  I needed. I wanted not an explanation, not a beautiful
• 16:03
  meaning, my Ko. And then there were the questions. What do you
• 16:15
  need? How can I help? I know those questions came from
• 16:21
  kindness, but I didn't know what I needed. I couldn't even
• 16:29
  understand what had happened to my life. I couldn't make
• 16:34
  ordinary decisions. I couldn't think, and somehow I was
• 16:41
  supposed to know what to ask for. As time passed, I became
• 16:49
  quieter. I stopped telling people what I was feeling, what
• 16:56
  I was thinking. I stopped talking about my regrets, my
• 17:02
  guilt, my hopelessness, my sadness, my despair.
• 17:12
  Because so often, when I tried to share those feelings, someone
• 17:17
  would try to make them better, or explain them away, or tell me
• 17:24
  what I should believe instead. I lost friendships, some of them
• 17:31
  were people I had considered family, and that was another
• 17:36
  kind of grief. I was already living in the world without Ko.
• 17:44
  And now, I was learning how lonely that world could be.
• 17:52
  There was no safe place any more. For more than 30 years,
• 18:02
  spirituality had been such a big part of my life. It wasn't just
• 18:08
  something I believed in; it was something I lived, something I
• 18:13
  shared with others. I believed in divine guidance, in angels,
• 18:20
  in signs, and serendipities, in messages from loved ones who had
• 18:26
  passed, I was the person who would notice 1111 on the clock
• 18:32
  and smile. I believed there was a divine purpose, that even when
• 18:37
  I couldn't see the bigger picture, somehow things would
• 18:42
  work out. Always, I used to say this or something better now
• 18:51
  manifests for me. All is well. I even taught people about
• 18:59
  limitless Possibilities, and then Ko's life was cut short,
• 19:10
  without a single reason. I can't call his death part of a
• 19:17
  beautiful divine plan. I can't turn it into a lesson, or a
• 19:23
  blessing in disguise. I don't want to turn the worst thing
• 19:31
  that had ever happened to me into something meaningful. For
• 19:40
  so many years I had connected with the spirit world. I'd
• 19:46
  experienced things that shaped my understanding of life and
• 19:51
  death. I'd helped other people find comfort through messages
• 19:56
  from loved ones. But with Ko. Nothing. I haven't had the kind
• 20:10
  of signs or messages from him that I once would have expected.
• 20:17
  I haven't been able to connect with him the way I had connected
• 20:21
  with others on the other side, and I don't know why. Knowing
• 20:32
  Ko, I think his soul hasn't left, that he hasn't ascended.
• 20:38
  Knowing his personality, I think he is hanging around with me,
• 20:45
  but I can't feel that. I can't know for sure, like I used to.
• 20:57
  And even if that's true. I still want him here physically. I want
• 21:09
  to hear that ridiculous laugh. I want to eat something he's
• 21:16
  cooked. I want to hear him talking a mile a minute. I want
• 21:28
  to see his signature sticking his tongue out face. I want to
• 21:37
  hug him. I know people mean well when they say he's forever in my
• 21:53
  heart. I know he's in my heart; he always will be. But that
• 22:03
  isn't what I'm missing. I'm missing Ko, his stupidness, his
• 22:12
  bad habits, his manipulation of me. All of it, all of him. I
• 22:27
  haven't stopped being a spiritual person, but I don't
• 22:32
  have that same certainty I once had, and there are things I
• 22:38
  simply cannot explain anymore. For a long time, I was the
• 22:47
  person who could find meaning in almost anything, who could see
• 22:52
  possibilities, who could offer comforting words. But I couldn't
• 23:00
  find words that made this okay. Nothing made sense anymore. But
• 23:10
  there were people, people who didn't tell me to be strong, who
• 23:16
  didn't try to teach me how to handle this journey. My boys,
• 23:26
  they were going through enormous loss, their big brother, and for
• 23:33
  the first time in their lives, they were seeing their mom fall
• 23:38
  apart and not come back from it. The mom they'd always known had
• 23:45
  come back stronger, no matter how hard life got. They told me
• 23:54
  later that back then they were terrified that they might lose
• 24:01
  their mom too. Sho and you held me. Joe cried with me. I think
• 24:15
  about that sometimes. How much pain was inside Our family. How
• 24:23
  each of us had lost the same person, and yet not in the same
• 24:29
  way. Some of my closest friends flew in to be with me. My best
• 24:38
  friend stayed as long as she could, one friend following just
• 24:44
  for a few hours, just to cook for me, Japanese seaweed soup
• 24:50
  and rice. She knew I would have that, at least take a sip. There
• 24:59
  was another friend. Who came to see me every day? She helped me
• 25:04
  bathe. Helped me change my clothes. She brushed my hair. I
• 25:15
  don't remember all of it. A lot of what I know about those days
• 25:20
  came from what my family told me afterward. There was also a
• 25:28
  counselor in the grief community who said something that stayed
• 25:32
  with me.
• 25:34
  I don't remember his exact words, but he was gently sharing
• 25:39
  his thoughts with me about how grief and love are connected.
• 25:46
  The deeper the love, the deeper the grief. My grief was so deep
• 25:56
  because I loved Ko that Much. I had spent so much time hearing
• 26:06
  what I should do, say, believe, how I should feel. But the
• 26:13
  moments I remember most tenderly were often the moments when
• 26:18
  nobody asked anything of me, and in those moments, I didn't have
• 26:28
  to be resilient. I was safe to miss Ko, in whatever way I
• 26:35
  needed to. It was okay not to be the Coco everyone knew. During
• 26:44
  the first year, there were moments when I looked like I was
• 26:48
  doing okay, at least to the outside world. I was still
• 26:54
  showing up for people, for things. I even kept up my
• 26:59
  eyelash extensions Appointments. People admired my strength. They
• 27:06
  told me I was inspiring. But I wasn't okay. I was running on
• 27:15
  empty. My body ached. I had trouble saying at night. I'd
• 27:22
  wake up with ringing in my ears. I would get dizzy. My head would
• 27:29
  start pounding. I remember telling my therapist about them,
• 27:35
  and she simply said, "That makes sense. She also asked me if
• 27:43
  there was anything helping me get through the hard moments. I
• 27:49
  said Mana and the babies, and I also told her I eat sugar. My
• 28:01
  therapist laughed, and I laughed too through tears. At that time,
• 28:08
  I needed whatever got me through the day, without shame, without
• 28:15
  judging myself. For me, the second year was much darker. I
• 28:25
  felt completely lost. I felt completely alone. But I didn't
• 28:35
  want any company except my fur babies. I stopped doing the
• 28:42
  right things. I stopped pretending. I stopped being
• 28:46
  strong. I stopped forcing myself to move forward. I felt broken.
• 28:57
  I was no longer whole, and I didn't want anyone to fix me. I
• 29:10
  wanted Ko. I wanted Ko to fix it. Even as simple "How are you?
• 29:33
  became too complicated to answer. I've always been an
• 29:40
  introvert, but with grief. Even ordinary days out in the world
• 29:48
  became difficult. I found comfort in my little cuckoo.
• 29:55
  With Mana, Hoku, Sora. And Haru. It's been a few years since that
• 30:06
  night. Home with fur babies is still my safe haven. Ko's keys
• 30:16
  and his hat are still by the door. Ko's apron is still
• 30:22
  hanging in the kitchen. I laugh, I cry, I make his chicken soup.
• 30:33
  My freezer is still full of ice cream. Sometimes I wonder if
• 30:41
  he's really gone. Sometimes I miss him so much, I don't know
• 30:53
  what to do. I wish he was here with me today. He would have
• 31:05
  gotten a kick out of his mamma having a podcast. I love you, Ko
• 31:11
  Chan.