Reflections on a Sunday

It's been a long while since I wrote. I'm not sure why, but recently I've just not had the motivation, nor the inspiration to write. Write like I used to before at least.

I guess to write I need some trigger, some kind of strong emotional or sensual experience that will push the words out of me and onto the screen. But to be honest, recently there's not been much, at least not since I got back from my (now almost) two month break.

Been busy searching for an apartment, and I seem to have found a place. Can move in by this week, and I'll be really glad to get that over and done with. For the last two weeks I've just been living in limbo, expecting, or at least anticipating the big move so I can finally be settled down and get myself working again. When you've got things packed away in boxes, it's difficult to do that... the mind and heart is disturbed and unsettled.

Other than that, I've been becoming listless, lazy to put it bluntly. The other day I spoke to mum and she got her test results back. From what she told me, things are alright. There are still lumps around her waist, but nothing else. The dotcor gave her a clear to continue working, and she seems somewhat happy with that. What's bothering her now is really her knee, and she says she really needs to move house soon.

I wrote down my feelings to a dear friend about how I feel about all this, and how it's affecting me:

I went to sleep after that conversation... I don't know why, but the conversation drained me, and I slept for a long, long time, even though it was morning already. And since I've been sort of avoiding phone calls (sorry, hope you can understand) and social events. I guess I just needed some time alone.

I'm glad things are alright, and that my mum does not need to (actually, more accurately, does not want to) undergo chemo again. But it feels like a battle every few months, waiting anxiously for the results, hoping things will turn out well, and if things are alright, another few months of waiting for the clear. If that's what it feels like for me, imagine what it must feel like for her?... Of course sometimes when I'm with her somewhere, the thought does cross my mind that it might be the last time that I'm with her... whether it's in Switzerland, Leidschendam, or just at AH around my house. Anytime could be the last....

But really, it could be my last time too. We're all dying [...] and nobody knows for sure who will go first, or how. The question is then what we do, or say, to one another while we're still around. All I, or anyone, can is try to do the best, to be kind, compassionate and loving, even if we get irritated and annoyed sometimes.

Maybe it's simple self-consolation to think or believe this way. But in the face of death, this is the most optimistic way of looking at things. For everyone, and for everyone's sake.

That's how I feel at the moment. Still in limbo, still half-searching for something I'm not sure what and not even sure I will find. Companionship perhaps... someone to share my feelings and thoughts with... all these pent up emotions are eating me slowly, and I sleep them away, only to feel worse afterwards for wasting my precious life and youth away...