Work, work

I cried at the office today. It was while speaking to a friend I had promised to meet for a long time. I had to call and cancel our appointment, because I was just overwhelmed with work and did not have time to even go out of the office. It has been like this ever since I got back from my leave two weeks ago.

She is a really sweet person, and just last year became a mother to a healthy and beautiful baby. I have seen the baby twice, and held her in my arms. When I see the baby's eyes, I feel how lucky she will be her whole life, because she has such a caring and loving mother that is my friend.

I am not sure what it is about my friend, but everytime I speak to her, she brings out the 'child' in me. Her voice is so soothing, her words so comforting. Just after I retired from Taiwan, I called her to tell her I had come back. The way she told me everything would be alright made my voice waver. It was as if she could feel my pain, as if she could reach inside and touch me, even though we were just on the phone. The motherliness of my friend is so powerful.

And again today, the same happened. I felt really bad having to cancel our appointment, but she was very understanding, and supportive. She told me to take it easy, and said we could meet when I am less busy. I thought of the many many days that have gone by since I returned to work, I thought of the days that I went to the office and just sat down without getting up until it was already night time.

At that point my eyes started to water again, and as if she could hear my tears, she told me to hang on there, to be strong, to go on despite the odds. That made me just feel even more touched.

I sat down at my desk, full of things to do, full of papers to be looked at and emails to be answered. I shut my eyes tightly and wiped my tears away. It was then that she said to me something that was so touching...

"...my parents passed away when I was just twelve, and I know how hard it is. When I feel sad or when I want to have my parents around, I would pinch myself. When I feel the pain, I know I am half my mother, and half my father. So you hang on there. Take a deep breath, make yourself a nice cup of tea, and just sit down for a few moments..."

And for those brief, few moments thereafter, the pressures from above, the bickering, the work politics, the money problems I have had to be faced with ever since the very moment I returned to work barely two weeks ago just disappeared.

Disappeared... like the clouds that would float on high and disappear the next time you look up.