Farewell, Formosa

Mum must be asleep by now, as it is past eleven in the evening. She usually sleeps early, at least tries to, though when I’m around her sleep time is delayed often by last minute talking and fiddling about. On the way to the airport, mum said she always misses me the first few days that I am gone. She gets so used to me being around, and then suddenly I leave, leaving an emptiness in the big house.

I guess I can imagine how that must feel like. I leave home now, but this time it does not seem so bad. I hugged her tightly, twice, and stroked her back softly. In my mind I quietly wished her peace and happiness, and told her out loud to take good care of herself. I will return soon, in two months time. It seems short, but it can also be a long time too.

This trip home, to Taiwan, has been eventful. Though I did not get to see mum move to her new house (in fact, the renovations have yet to take place, after a month or so of delays…), but I did pack some things up into boxes for her. Not much, but important things… things that otherwise might be too difficult for her to pack, because of the memories and the stories behind the pictures, letters, and memorabilia. Especially those in dad’s room. I told her to wait for me and/or brother to return before moving the big things. I hope she will wait, and not exhaust herself too much.

The trip with my friends was enjoyable, despite some of the tensions that surrounded us and clouded my mood at times. I guess I wanted to plan and have the ‘perfect’ trip… but didn’t realise how difficult it is to coordinate the times, minds and whims of four people. I don’t know about them, but I got to see parts of Taiwan’s nature, culture and people that I never realised lay so close beneath the surface, and I feel there is so much more there is to discover, to explore and to learn about my own home. This feeling is somehow mixed with the gloomy thought and hearsay that I have encountered about Taiwan’s demise, about China’s rise and zealous ambition to swallow the island and its people whole no matter what. The current political situation, with the Chinese Nationalists back in power again and cozying up with the Chinese Communists, is extremely perilous for Taiwan’s future, and the fate of its people, and their desire for independence and freedom from pepertual colonialism. Perhaps, this island, and its people is destined, despite of or maybe because of its beauty and riches, to be an lonely child with many parents as claiming to have an interest in the child’s welfare.

And, perhaps the most painful of all, next to learning and living with mum’s illness, is watching my friend fade slowly away in the hospital. I’ve been to see him three or four times, and every time he gets weaker and weaker, like a fragile flame that can be blown out at any moment without notice. I cried for him, because it pains me so to watch a fellow human being suffer, to watch a friend I know, though perhaps not well enough, slowly, but seemingly steadily drift in his morphine-dazed state of mind, towards death.
I wrote him a card, wishing him the best, happiness, peace, and most important of all, wishing that he can let go, and let Dharma take its natural course. It is only ever so much.

So here I sit, next to the conveyor belt at Gate C4, ready to board, ready to leave home to go back home. Thank you Formosa, thank you friends and family, for your care, for your being there, and for making me feel welcome every time. Most of all, for making me feel at home.

Goodbye, dear friend...

“David… I’m dying.”

I almost could not hear him.

“…dying,” he repeated. A coarse whisper that took much effort and energy.

I did not know what to say, except hold onto his hand tighter, and look at him more intensely in the face.

Are we not all dying? Is that not the natural way of things, the way of the universal law of Dharma? We are born, we live, we get caught up in worldly emotions and material things and we suffer, some suffer more than others. And then we die. That is all.

But that realisation is sadly one which most make upon death. My friend was not crying, nor shivering in fear as he told me that he is dying. He was calm, despite being weak and tired. He was firm, despite the months and years of ongoing treatment, and dashed hopes of finding a treatment

Leaning in close, our cheeks touching, I bid him goodbye. It felt like a final farewell, and perhaps both of us know it. “Let go,” I said, “May you be happy, peaceful…” I gripped his thin hand and fingers one more time. I turned away to walk away, but turned back to see my friend waving. His arm was thin, frail and the movements were weak, but the small smile on his face was genuine. I walked back, and grasped his hand again. “Take good care”, I said, and finally left.

I had to lean against the window, and let the tears flow for a few minutes. Outside, were rows and rows of hospital wards that had seen much birth, suffering, and death. Such pain went through me, such raw emotions I never knew existed were released in those tears that temporarily watered my world. Pain, not so much because of the encroaching death, but of watching a dear friend fade ever so slowly and ever so painfully before you.

And then I braced myself, swallowed hard, bit my teeth tightly, and watched the pain. It is only so much, as the Buddha taught, it is only an emotion that comes and goes, comes and goes…

Comes and goes, as certain as life and death.

Brother troubles

It is a real shame that it has come to this. My brother only ever calls when there is something he needs. And recently it is help with money to renovate his house. It's been going on a while, and he really has invested a lot of time (and now money) into the place... but things seem to be getting out of hand.

The most recent episode revolves around an interior decorator. Long story short, she decided not to continue with my brother's work because for a while she was involved with work for my mum. Basically there was a difference of opinion, and she decided to quit, which basically leaves my brother without a decorator.

And the last two weeks, he has been calling and been angry on the phone, blaming left and right. I can understand it is frustrating, especially as he has to deal with the construction work and the renovations all by himself. But I don't understand what it is that he wants from mum, or from me. Every time he calls, he is full of anger, full of blame, keeps on saying how much trouble he has to go through, how much extra energy and money he has to waste, because my mum made a real mess of the situation...

But what purpose does it serve to blame and to scold someone after the deed has been done? I really don't know what he wants, what he expects mum or me to do. All I can say, as I have said so many times before, is to be realistic with the renovations, and to spend what he can, and try to make the best of the situation. This does not get to him very well, and in fact attracts a whole tirade against me (and my mum) for not caring, never caring and never willing to care.

I can speak to him, but I cannot get through to him. He is such a difficult person to talk to, and whatever I try to say, whatever sense (or what appears to be sense to me...) I try to get into him, he turns it into a weapon and uses it against me (or mum). What pain and anguish he has caused us... and yet what can I say about that? If I complain about his angry words, his blaming and his scolding, he turns it into how we do not give a damn about his life or wellbeing, how we do not understand his needs or do not care about his problems.

All I can think of is mum in the background... she is listening to all of this, and hurting deeply inside... how painful it must be to hear your own son scold and blame you for mistakes that cannot be turned back again... how painful it must be to bear the angry words and the deep resentment hidden behind those words, and to know that it comes from the child you spent hours and tireless amounts of energy and time to bring up. And he actually bites back, demanding apology, demanding that you sit and listen to the scolding and the hurtful emotional outpouring.

I can see mum hurt and her hair become white over the past two weeks already...