Conversation with mum

"Human beings are like this, so fragile. People are like this... With age there is so much misfortune. Just have to accept..."

I know she can become down sometimes. Not so much a symptom of the illness or the treatment, but,  perhaps, a manifestation of facing fear, facing possible death.

"I pull lightly, and already 5, 6 strands of hair come off. And this is only after the first treatment," she said sadly, "Maybe I shouldn't go to the wedding..."

How silly she was being, how self-demeaning! How painful it is to hear that!

 "How can you not be there? You're the mother!" I said gently and firmly, but was in fact frowning and struggling hard to contain the tears. I can only imagine what injured pride and self-esteem made her talk this way, what shame she felt if she were to be in a room full of people, to be the centre of attention, and wonder if people could see her thinning hair or her wig. Earlier she had discussed the symptoms, the broken throat, the hair loss, and complaints that she has been coughing a lot... Coughing... lungs...?

"Sometimes, the illness makes you think in extremes," she admitted.

"Don't think too much," I said, perhaps the only thing I could think of saying, yet I knew deep down that it was not enough. Not enough to show how much I really care, how very much I would like to be right there with her, to hold her and tell her by looking into her eyes not to worry, not to fear-- even if deep down, I do worry, I do fear...

She told me how cold it had suddenly gotten, and I told her to dress warmly, and to wrap herself with that blanket I had recently bought her and shipped to her.

"I do use it. Really, thank you for that," she said.

For some reason, perhaps because of the overly sensitised frame of mind I am in now, that "thank you" lured a tear from the corner of my eye. It was such a special thank you, perhaps in the way she said it, perhaps in the way I heard it. It was a thank you that seemed to strike my core, reverberate and touch my very soul. The soul which so cares, so deeply loves and so deeply wishes all the best for my mum. The blanket, however warm, however much it had cost, can only convey a little part of that care and affection. The "thank you" touched me, because she understood, because she felt my love...

And that was such a blessing, for some reason, a blessing that warmed my heart to know that even though far away, I am trying to make a little difference, and bring a little bit of light into her life....