Hang on there...

Mum sounded down and tired today. Perhaps I should just accept that she is in this state and not think too much of it. Besides, she always is tired and down a few days after the chemo, so it is perfectly 'normal'.  But what if it's not...?

That's always the fear, right? The fear and uncertainty that perhaps her body has taken one chemotherapy too many, and that she's being pushed over the edge... the way my dad was pushed over the edge... I try to block out those images, those too vivid and frightening images that cross my mind when I sleep at night...

I try to encourage her again, like I encourage her everyday when I call her.

"Be strong," I'd say at moments like this. "Hang on there..." And the tears would build, the hurt would well up and would be swallowed deep down.  How can you expect someone to be strong when the person is physically and mentally eroded? How I wish I could touch her, hold her, take her by the hand and without words tell her that she is not alone. That she is loved...

Mum said she was going to shower and then sleep. Hopefully she'll feel better tomorrow. I reluctantly end the conversation, hoping there was something else I could think of to make her feel better, to put her mind at ease, to distract her from her pains.

And all I can and could say was:  "Take care, take care..."

But behind my words is a gush of love, compassion and positive energy that I hope mum will receive every-time I whisper those  two simple words.

"Take care..."