letting go...

“You’ve really done a lot for all of us,” mum said as she looked into my eyes. She lay in bed in her pajamas and was getting ready to sleep. I was by her bedside and stroked her back a little to wish her goodnight.

There are many things a child can do to show love and affection toward the parents, and one of them is to provide care and support when they are old and frail. Growing up in a culture infused with the Confucian philosophy of ‘filial piety’, a child is expected to tend to the needs of the parents in old age, is expected to provide and house the parents till they leave this world. All this grounded in the idea that the nurture and love of a parent toward a child during childhood and adolescence (and beyond) is like a debt that can never be repaid in kind, so the least a child can do is try to care as much as possible for the parents while they are alive.

But times have changed, societies have modernised, and values and beliefs have radically been simplified, or even forgotten. Personally, though, being loving and caring for my parents is something I always strive to do, and unfortunately, sometimes I feel I have not really done enough, especially in the case of my dad who passed away all too soon, and all too suddenly.

Do I have a chance to make it all better in the case of my mum? That is a question that has been on my mind for the last couple of years, and with her seemingly ailing health, the question continues to cast a shadow over my life.

There is a reason why in the last two, three years I’ve flown back and forth between where I live (be that the Netherlands or Canada) and Taiwan. I want to make the most of my available time to be there for my mother, to give her a boost of confidence and human contact during those days she needs it most—especially days when she is undergoing chemo therapy, and when she is at her weakest, physically and mentally. Whether it’s making her bed every morning or warming her bed with the electric blanket at night before she retires, whether it’s sweeping the hairs off of the floor so she does not feel upset seeing her hair loss, whether it’s making a meal for her, making sure that she gets enough nutrients and can quickly recover from her chemo treatment, or whether it’s accompanying her to the park to do exercises and to get a breath of fresh air—they’re all little things that make her feel cared for, make her feel loved. Even strangers on the street have complimented me on how caring and loving I am toward her, which seems to surprise people pleasantly.

I may not be the perfect son, for I can be impatient and at times clumsy. But my care and my love toward my mum is genuine, and it moves people, moves even me, to tears. I never regret anything I have done, for I do it all willingly, and I could never say I’m sacrificing my own future or happiness to make my mum feel cared for and loved.

But there comes a point when I have to face reality, and let fate take its course. There comes a point when I have to just trust myself, trust that I have done enough, and make peace with what I have done to be there for my mum, to support my mum emotionally and physically when she needs it most. I must learn to trust that I will continue to do so, whatever condition she is in, and wherever I may find myself.

And in the meantime, I must be ready to let go, and not regret my decision to go and (re)start my own life abroad, away from her. Staying put and staying constantly at her side will do nobody any good, as I have been told by many outsiders, and even by mum herself. The more I stay around, the more she will feel like I’m waiting for her to ‘pass on’, so that I could finally begin my life. The longer I stay around, the more I will feel there are many opportunities or chances that I am missing, and the more I will feel resentment and regret, at myself, and at life itself. Nothing will make mum feel more at ease, more ready to leave this world in peace when that moment comes, than to see that I am making something of my life, making something out of the years of study and time and efforts that I have invested into my studies.

Nobody knows what the future will bring, or when people will come or go. What I do know is that I have been there for my mum, and I have fully given myself to make sure she feels love and cared for. “You’ve really done a lot for all of us…” Those words are a reminder to me that it is time to let go, time to go and do my own things. Whatever will happen will happen, even if things happen in ways or at moments when you least expect them to.

I hope I will leave here with mum’s words in mind, and find peace in leaving. Find peace in leaving, and in knowing that I have really done the best I could under the circumstances. And, most importantly, find peace of heart and peace of mind in knowing that mum feels I have done the best I could, and treasures it all too.