Come with me....

I didn't manage to reach my mum on the phone, and she was supposed to start chemo this week. And when I took a nap this afternoon, I dreamed of her...

I saw her from the corner of my eyes, her feet first through the door opened ajar. I looked up, and it was mum, dressed in gray trousers and long sleeves. She looked tired, and her hair was uncombed. "Mum!" I called out, and lept forward to hug her. We hugged tightly, and she leaned her face closer. Next to my ear she whispered, "When you go back to study in Canada, can you take me with you?"

"Of course!" I said, "I had wanted that for a long time". I felt overjoyed, happy that finally she would come and see where I live, see where I've settled down and get to know the new life that I have begun in Canada all by myself.

It was then that I realised that her skin was dry was dry, her eyes were gray and old, and her hair, what remained of it, looked charred and old. She smiled at my reply, but she felt weak in my arms...