The plane broke through the dense cloud cover, but it is shaking from the lingering and invisible turbulence. The horizon looks beautiful, a blend of blue fading into ever darker shades, with a slight touch of yellow and orange, which is heaven’s hint of the approaching dusk.
Who would have thought that I would be on a plane again, less than 48 hours after my long, long crossing half way around the globe? Until last night, I was convincing myself that I should and would stay put in Monteal. But waking up this morning I had a sudden urge, an intuition while I was jogging in the park. With every step I took, I could hear this nagging voice inside of me which told me if I do not leave on this flight I would regret it.
As I head back to Europe, I am defying the very words and warnings of someone who just two weeks ago reminded me again how irresponsible of me it would be to be home for so short a time and to leave my poor little cat house-sitting again. Not that the words of this friend fell on deaf ears. In fact, they troubled me for a while, and again I found myself wondering whether it is “right” to keep on abandoning my cat and to be away so long… I know it is cruel to adopt a cat and then not be there a lot of the time. As I was packing my suitcase (with clothes that were barely dry because I had only washed them earlier this morning), my cat took a nap on my suitcase. Perhaps it was coincidence. Or perhaps she felt and knew that I was planning to leave her again, and was lying on my suitcase in protest. It pains me to see it, even though I may very well be projecting my own human emotions onto her innocence looking face and eyes.
But then again, what could be more important than spending precious time with my mum at this stage in my life? Having lost my dad, and seeing just how fragile mum’s health and life is, I just feel I need to spend as much time and opportunity I have with her. A week, a day, a few more minutes may seem so insignificant… but when someone dear is still here, is still on this Earth for me to see, for me to talk to, for me to hug and hold, the day that she is gone, those few moments together count for a lot. A friend compared to what I am going through to a “mission” I need to fulfill. Even though the process may be tiring, even though in the process I am letting my cat down. All else seems to pale in importance…
By flying off again, I am sure to raise eyebrows and cause people to talk and judge. But at the end of the day, I think to myself, others do not feel what I feel… others cannot possibly comprehend why I do what I do, and why I put myself through the torments of jetlag and stress just to be with my mum (who still has no idea that I am heading back today).
How surprised she will to see me. I try to imagine the possible look on face, the likely smile that it might just give her, the happiness that could possibly heal her weakened body little by little. Just those possibilities, even if none of them are realised, is worth me leaving again.
Clear skies in Europe, the captain predicts…
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