Talk

"This caring heart of mine... I cannot just switch it off like that..." I put my hand on mum's back, gave her a few gentle pats, and put my arm on her shoulder. I hugged her tightly, and turned away, temporarily not wanting to see her, to look into her eyes, because I knew that it would too much. I was so close to crying there and then in the park. The stream of hot spring from the mountains whispered and cried as it flowed quietly by. Warm, white mist rose from the rock bed into the cold, cold morning air.

A little hike after breakfast somehow turned into an emotional discussion. I can't recall exactly how it all began. I think I was telling her about my life and my friends in Montreal, in a way, to reassure her that I am happy where I am, and to let her know that she has nothing to worry about. Because if there is one thing she does, it is to worry about me and my wellbeing.

I think she felt that she was imposing on my life, and that I was giving up all that just to be with her. She felt bad, having to impose herself on me and on my brother, felt guilty that she is ill and that she is making us worry. "It would be so much easier if I were...."

I did not let her finish. What silliness! What nonsense! What a thing to think! How could she even think or believe that? "This is my life, and I made a choice to be with you now. I'm not making big sacrifices, it's what I want to do, it's what I can do, because I have the freedom to travel and I have no obligations at this stage of my life..."

This is the conversation I've been wanting to have with her for a long time, yet at that moment I felt tongue-tied and lost for words to describe how I felt, or what I really wanted to say. I've been wanting to tell her how I feel, and I want her to know that if I had a choice, I would not do things differently. "It's the bond between a mother and a child. I am doing what I can to be with you, to support you, because I want you to be happy, I want you to take care of your health and get better..."

Such difficult words to say, and for a long time I've been wanting to say them to mum, but never had a chance. And these thoughts have been bubbling inside of me, waiting to come out, because I'm not sure who I can talk to and who can understand what I'm going through... Maybe I should have been more tactful, been more careful what I say, and be more sensitive to her feelings when I tell her how torn I often feel between leading my own life and wanting to make sure that she is alright. Because I know, I know deep down, every mother wishes their children to fare well, to succeed in life and to have a stable career and a stable, comfortable life. And  I know that she would want nothing less for me. But I also know that she cannot shake away the feeling that her illness and her condition has dragged my life, and my brother's life, down.

"I really want you to be happy. I want you to take good care of yourself, and to promise to be strong, to not be afraid..." Such difficult words to say, yet there is nothing more heartfelt or moving. Overwhelmed by emotions, suppressing my tears, I could almost not breathe. Deep down inside, I myself am afraid... I am afraid that she feels much mental anguish, much physical discomfort because of her condition, and she does not need to also feel responsible that she is weighing down on my life or my future. The last thing I ever wanted was to add more stress and more frustration to her life.

Maybe I'm becoming obsessive about her health and her wellbeing... maybe I'm too attached and I care much too much about her wellbeing, and am forsaking my own. The sleepless nights, all those days and nights thinking, crying, worrying... The dramatic loss of weight in the last two months.
If only she knew, but I cannot let her know.

"I'll be fine," she said, "I'll be strong, and I know I have a number of years still."

"That's what I want so hear". It is really what I want to hear, perhaps for selfish reasons so I can tell and justify to myself that it is alright for me to leave one day and not look back. But it is really what I want to hear, because I want her to tell herself, to believe herself that there is hope yet. Hope in the face of hopelessness...