Mum's friend

Just before I left home back in February, I prepared a little gift and wrote a  nice card and left it behind. I asked mum to please give it to a friend of hers, someone who calls almost every single day to check up on how she is doing. I've only met this 'auntie' a couple of times, but in many ways, when I see them talking and laughing on the phone, my heart is filled with such gratitude.

This auntie came by today, as she would do once every two, three weeks or so. She used to be a nurse, so she is trained and knowledgeable in medicine and nutrition. Especially when mum is doing chemo, she would call to advise mum what to eat, and what to avoid, and generally, to act as a support and confidante.

I saw the auntie only briefly today, as I was rushing to go out. But I thanked her again and again, and wasn't sure what I could say or do to convey my gratitude. She came over this time to bring a throat medicine that will help to soothe mum's aches and swelling from the radiotherapy. "Your mum looks healthier and her face is a bit rounder since I last saw her," she said, implying that she gained a bit of weight. She congratulated me on a job well-done, but embarrassed I looked down at my feet. I only did what I could, nothing more, nothing less...

The auntie said she was worried, especially in the last few weeks that mum would quit the treatment, because she knows how trying it can get when the treatment accumulates. Those final few sessions are the toughest, because the patient is usually so mentally and so physically worn that there is often no more will to face the doctors, face all that medicine and all that radiation... "It's good that you came back," she said to me, "It really has helped her a lot..." She said mum is really strong, and that she is proud of mum fr pulling it through all the way to the end, for it has been a painful, long and arduous journey, a lot of it undertaken on her own. What little time I have spent with her is minimal to the length of time she has had to deal with her condition, deal with the treatments, and the emotional and physical aftermaths of her treatments, which to date has lasted almost half a year.

"Go take her out for a while, let her enjoy the cleaner environment and surroundings overseas," she said, "It'll do her a lot of good".

I intend to. I cannot describe how eager I would like to just board the next plane and take her away. One more treatment tomorrow, and in ten day's time, we will be on our way...