I looked at mum as she was excitedly talking. She's been smiling and laughing almost continuously since I got back yesterday. Underneath the layer of dyed black hair she was grey and thinning. On her shoulder was a few strands of hair which had fallen. She bemoaned earlier that since she started taking the chemo medication again, her hair has been falling out. So potent and powerful is the drug, and it has only been one session out of a total of seven more to go. Strands, tufts, and fingerfull at a time. She said she did not dare to dry her hair with a cloth after washing it. More might come off.
I have had a few deep moments with brother since I got back. What to do, what to decide in the coming period. Should I stay on, leave all the things in Canada undone, or return as scheduled and return in May again when I am in the region for a conference? I'm not closer to a conclusion as yet. But watching those temporary moments of grief and worry on mum's face between her smiles, I am once more caught and lost in confusion.
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