Engagement

Early morning, mum and I took the high speed rail down to the centre of the country, to Taichung, the hometown of my sister-in-law (to be). Though it was gray and cold in Taipei, as soon as we got off the train, the sun shone through the clouds.

"A beautiful day it is," I said. We went into the hotel where the reception is held, and the bride and bridemaids had already checked into a room the night earlier. They were already made up when mum and I walked into the room. Brother stood on one said, looking cheerful and had a smile on his face that would not fade for the rest of the day.

There are many rites and rituals to obide, if we were to follow true Taiwanese custom. But both sides felt that it is no longer necessary, especially given that most of the traditions have lost their touch on my generation, much to the ire of some of the elders in the family. Instead, it was a wedding with a blend of modern and western with local roots.

There were over a hundred people, I would imagine, from both sides of the family. I stood by mum most of the time, and greeted guests with drinks and cheers. Congratulations, well-wishes, and good lucks were the norm, and the bride and groom (to be) regularly walked around the reception hall with glasses to toast all those who have come, from near and far.

The decor, the music, the kind, sweet words of greetings and blessings, and the image of the couple walking hand in hand down the aisle was so touching. I wore a tailor-made jacket from a piece a fabric that dad had left behind for me, and I silently wished he could be here to see and enjoy all this. When my aunt (dad's older sister) heard about the story of my jacket, I spotted a tear in her eyes.

It was a beautiful day indeed, and a beautiful engagement party, despite the uncertainties earlier about whether it would take place or not. In the end it did take place, and doubt filled people's hearts with warmth, love and joy. It certainly made my mum laugh and smile widely, and for many, many moments today, forget her illness, forget her troubles, but live in the happiness and celebrations of the couple.

I too was touched by the whole event, and deep down inside, I missed and thought of my friend, and wished he was there to share the experience.

Wedding planner

"When it's your wedding, your brother better do the same for you," mum's friend said. I just smiled, and looked at mum, who looked genuinely happy.

Maybe my brother will also run around town and spend hours shopping for this and that one day in preparation for the big wedding day when (or if!) that day comes for me. Maybe he won't. Whatever the answer, I'm just glad that I can help and contribute to the success and happiness of the upcoming big day (despite the uncertainties before, the latest I heard is that the wedding is still on, and somehow the dust has settled).

There were so many things to pick up, from heart stickers to cards, from a guest book to gifts, sweets and chocolates. I also wanted to create little pouches containing goodies for guests to take home after the wedding, and I came across jade amulets for a bargain, so I bought a whole bunch, and readied myself for a night of packing and wrapping.

Mum's friend also came up with the idea of 'livening' up the wedding with a game, so I got some little gifts to give away. The idea is that under random seats I'm going to place a heart (poker) card, whoever happens to sit on that chair has to get up and say something nice to the newly weds. If s/he does that, the person will get a gift! So far, I have stuffed animal couples, cute key chains, monkey figurines (both my brother and the bride-to-be were born in the Monkey year), and there's even a Delft Blue house (one I got on a recent trip with KLM on business class...) that's going to the special prize! On each of the dining tables, I bought heart-shaped gold tin wrapped Ferrero Rocher chocolates, to make the mood even more exquisite

I happily came home, and started preparing things, writing little notes and wellwishes for the new couple. Somehow, I feel so happy to be doing all this, somehow knowing that all the things I'm doing will eventually make this whole event, which until now has been confronted with obstacle after obstacle, more joyful and special.

Testing...

Went into the hospital with mum this morning, to have her invitro-chemo tube removed. I saw a boy, not older than 10, standing over his dad, who sat in a chair as the nurse put needles into his arm at the oncology ward. The boy had a forlorn look, and looked at his father. On his face was the look of despair, desperation and worry.

I'm not sure why that look moved me. Perhaps because I recognise those expressions, recognise those feelings, for they echo my own. What can you do when a loved one is undergoing an excruciating and at times humiliating treatment--one if not done, is an invitation for the cancer to spread, multiply and eat away your body? It is humiliating, because there is little you can do, and it is so deadly, exactly because it is invisible and not felt, until it is too late...

Mum looked tired upon exiting the hospital, so we went straight home. She is beginning to complain of sores in her left arm, and also beginning to feel sore in her right side hip. According to the make up of the nervous system, the left upper part of the body corresponds to the lower right of the body... the sores may be a sign that the pressure on her spine and nerves is getting worse.

 I... don't know if I should cry, or whether I can cry. Mum can see the sadness, the deep, deep sense of hopelessness on my face. "You're unhappy here," she said, looking at me sitting on the floor next to her bed."

"It just pains me to see you in pain..." I replied. When she hurts, I hurt... when she moans in pain, it is as if I feel that pain. I know these are perhaps strange feelings that are too intense and personal to comprehend. Perhaps I'm too attached and attaching too much of my feelings to mum's. But how can I feel anything else when someone I love and care about deeply is obviously in a state of pain?

Almost another week till the doctor's appointment and till she gets the results and diagnosis of the tumour and compression on the spine. How much more pain can she bear...? How much of this test of patience and forebearance can I take?

Wedding...?

One day before the engagement, and two days before the actual wedding, it seems plans may become upset.

Details are scarce, and things are still developing, but in the worst case scenario, it could all be called off by the mother-in-law (to be?). Not going into details now, because it's all very complicated and personal, but it's to do with family issues on the other side of the family. Mum still has no clue, as things developed shortly after she went to bed last night, and brother and I have not told her any thing, for fear of upsetting her.

My sister-in-law was on the phone till late last night, hysterical and crying as my brother tried to comfort her. I've never seen him so caring, so 'soft' and so understanding and patient. I told him, whatever happens, the engagement and wedding is just a ceremony; you still have one another.

The engagement is in another city in less than 24hrs, but it's still unsure whether it will take place. I think the sister-in-law is trying to negotiate some kind of compromise or agreement, trying to salvage all the efforts and time put into the preparation. But I'm not sure what is happening, or if anything is happening...

Soup

Day two of mum's chemo, and mum threw up almost as soon as soon she woke up. In these few days, her health and appetite is precarious, and she has to be careful what she eats. As her mouth and tongue has lost much of their sensations of taste, in order to eat, she has to eat in little portions spread throughout the day, and preferably foods that are nutritious and strong tasting, and can quickly replenish her white blood cells.

Onions, asparagus, oranges, grapes, broccoli, tomatoes... these are just some of the foods that will help create white blood cells faster, but also act as anti-oxidants. So I made mum noodles this evening, and a tomato-based sauce/soup, filled garlic and onions, to go with it. The sauce was strong in taste, naturally salty and sour from the fresh organic tomatoes I had diced and boiled to a pulp.

I gave her only half a bowl, but within 10minutes, she had emptied it. She burped and a strange noise escaped her mouth. At first, I thought she would throw up, but instead, she wiped her mouth and said it was delicious.

I cannot describe how happy it makes me to see her eat everything, even if it's not much. Even happier, because it's healthy, and will hopefully restore her health back to normal 'again', and, most important of all, I made it myself.

Flare up

Who would have thought at breakfast early in the morning a heated discussion would flare up? I sat and just listened to mum and brother talk back and forth about the upcoming wedding.

Mum is somewhat displeased that the new couple seem to take things for granted, and seem to expect things to be arranged and organised and (most importantly) paid for. There are things that the groom side should pay for, at least from the point of view of the local customs, and Mum has no problem paying for most things. But she is somewhat upset about the fact that my sister-in-law (to be) went out and bought an expensive wedding dress, and called mum one day last week basically asking it to be paid for.

"Why does anyone need to buy a wedding dress?" Mum is dumbfounded, but brother is defensive of his wife (to-be), as is expected. There was no shouting or tempers, but I could sense things were heating up. As we walked home, mum complained almost the whole way about how irresponsible the couple is, how they seem to expect mum to do this and that, even though mum is in no condition to (given her treatment...).

It saddens me to see all this, especially since they've not even gotten married yet. It doesn't do any good for mum's health, and it seems to be creating some bad vibes between the people involved.

"Don't get too involved", I said. And I just hope before and after the wedding she will heed my words.

Hope in hopelessness

My eyes turned moist as soon as I got the appointment. The minutes, seconds before the receptionist told me the answer to my question, I stopped breathing.

"Yes, he has a spot available in the morning."

I was so relieved, and became immediately emotional. He is supposed to be an avant-garde neurosurgeon specialised in spinal injuries. When mum went into the hospital today to start her latest chemo treatment, she had asked a nurse about which doctor she should see. A nurse with whom mum had developed  friendly relations with told mum the name, and said that this same doctor recently operated on a patient with similar conditions as mum, and the patient has now left the intensive care unit and is now in a normal ward and recovering well. The news, and also the prospect of having a second opinion about how to deal with the spreading of tumour on her spine gave mum hope.

I quickly ran to the receptionist to try to change her appointment. Originally, mum had made an appointment with a doctor to see the results of her recent MRI scan, but she wasn't too confident of the doctors abilities. It was simply a doctor her main physician referred her to. Now, with the more reknowned neurosurgeon, who also happens to be a professor in the field, mum is more reassured.

Sometimes in the midst of hopelessness, there is an inkling of hope. I guess that's what made my eyes moist, for I was simply overwhelmed with emotions of gratitude. What are the chances that someone knows someone who may be able to help and provide better diagnosis and treatment? What are the chances that the nurse who was assisting my mum today in the chemo ward is so willing to share valuable information with my mum?

It's not certain yet what the new neurosurgeon will say, and what treatment mum will undergo, but at least mum is feeling more confident than I've seen her in a long time...

Painful dreams

The ground swayed, and I was swaying with it. I could see the wooden floor boards move apart, and slide against one another in opposite directions, in back and forth motions. The walls seemed to buckle and crumble like dust. Mum was with me, and I told her to quickly get under a big wooden table for shelter...

The last thing I remember was the ground continuing to sway, and sitting under the table with mum.

I stirred from my sleep, and heard mum get up to use the bathroom. It was just after 5am. As she laid down, I could hear her twist and turn in bed. Occassionally, sighs and groans would escape her mouth. Painful sighs, painful groans. I heard her rub her arm, as she twisted and turned in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

The minutes seemed to last eternity... each passing minute, filled with the sighs and groans of pain of a loved one lasts an eternity. I cannot imagine the pain, the soreness of her arm that is causing mum to be  so restless, so agitated. I imagined the source of the injury, which as far as I know is the C-7 section of the spine compressing on her nerves. The pain and soreness comes and goes, but sometimes it is especially acute, causing her to groan and sigh.

I cannot describe how much I hurt deep down hearing her sigh and groan... I really cannot. What can I do to take away her pain? What can I do to soothe her agitation...?

In my head when I close my eyes, images of surgery, of being paralysed, of her slipping away, of her motionless body in a hospital bed flash and flicker like scenes from a terrible nightmare...

Visit

It was drizzling outside. On the way to the temple, the waves looked rough and wild, reminding me of the boat trip back from Green Island I took a week or so.

I stood a few steps behind mum, brother and my future sister-in-law. The scent of incense sticks filled my nose as we worshiped our ancestors. My eyes became moist. In silence, I spoke to my dad, and asked for his blessings. Somehow that was a very emotional moment... "Dad, please bless them, and offer them lots of happiness, luck and prosperity in their marriage. Please also bless mum, take good care of her health and her wellbeing".

I do not know if dad could hear me, hear my prayers and hopes. As I stood before dad's urn, I felt a spur of emotions swell up inside. This is the day that many have been waiting for. My brother and his wife-to-be 'meeting' my dad for the first time. I could see mum was also moved. I could see her murmur something, no doubt asking for dad's approval and for his blessings.

They look like such a happy couple, laughing, joking around, and poking one another as we had lunch together at a restaurant. I was reminded of the wonderful time I had with my friend last week, and was reminded of how I miss the intimacy, warmth and comfort of having someone close close to me…

In the afternoon, I was back at the hospital with mum. The soreness in her left arm has gotten worse, and I can see her often rubbing her arm, hitting it with her fist, in a way to relieve her pain. Sometimes when I’m next to her, I hold on to her arm, hold on to her hand, silently wishing that the physical pain she is feeling can passing through my hands and into my body. But of course, that is but a childish and senseless fantasy… for I could never feel or bear her pain for her, however much I want to…  More and more, the hair on the top of her head appears to be thinning. More and more, I find myself trying to sweep away the strands of hair that are on the floor of our house, in the hope that she won’t feel too saddened seeing her constant hair loss.

Mum was supposed to have a chemo session last week, but she had been weakened by a strange bout of diarrhea, and her white blood cell count was too low. Though her blood cell count is still on the low side, the doctor recommended she continue the chemo treatment, especially as the hospital will be closed for the new year period next week.

To start chemo now will be exhausting for her, for a session lasts around 3 days, and in 4 days is the engagement, in 5 days the wedding. I’m really feeling apprehensive about her state of health, and how she’ll cope…

Mum looked sad as we walked home, and I could not but be affected by her sadness. “So is life…” she said. I reached out and grabbed her hand, held onto it tightly and stroked her fingers softly, in the hope that she could feel supported and ressured. My other hand was empty, and felt cold in the breeze.

First impressions

Back home, feeling somewhat tired from the trip. I did not sleep at all, instead, looked out the window of the plane a while, admired the changing colours as the sun retired for the day. And I started to write a few things, in my diary, for this blog too.

I quickly made my way home, and within one and a half hours of landing I was home again. I gave mum a hug, she appeared a little tired, but looked more or less the same. I did notice that there was hair on the floor, and she tried to sweep the strands away to make room for me to sleep on.

Brother is now home, and I too greeted him with a hug. "It's been a long time," I said, and patted him on the back. Indeed, it's been a long time since we spoke or saw one another, and many things have changed since. He looked the same too, and seemed to look happier. On the table was the menu and the wine list for the upcoming wedding on Saturday.

Need to wake up early in the morning to go see dad. And later in the afternoon, another visit to the hospital with mum. Back to life here in Taipei.

En route to TPE

Flying away from the sunset into the darkness of the night, as the last rays of the day cast a beautiful orange glow on the wings of the Boeing Triple Seven. Heading home after a few days away from home. Ironically, sometimes I must leave home in order to return home.

All too quickly, the eleven days or so of the time together with my friend has come to an end. We’ve traveled to many places together, crossed physical borders and emotional boundaries, and engaged many fun, romantic and intimate things together (and of course, as with all relationships, there were also little personality clashes too…). It brings a beautiful small smile to my face to reminisce the many laughs and jokes, the little sweet talks and moments together in which I felt as if there were no one else in the world but him. I can only imagine he felt the same…

It’s hard to describe it all, and even harder perhaps to describe how I felt as I said goodbye to him at the airport of Saigon. It felt bizarre, somewhat surreal, that after all the nights and days spent together almost constantly at one another’s side, we’d be saying goodbye in a foreign country, at a foreign airport, unsure when we’d meet again. Tonight, I will surely miss the warmth and heart-warming scent of his body when I go to bed…

We hugged one another, and gave one another kisses on the cheeks and neck. Even though throughout our time together, I often felt the urge to just stroke his hand, touch his arm, smell his hair, somehow at the airport just before entering the passport control area I felt conscious of people watching us, and, as much as I wanted to, dared not venture onto his lips.

We’ve had conversations about the possibility of him coming to visit me again in March. It would be good to see him again, after a separation by vast distances and of a long time. But truth is, I’m not sure what will happen in the coming period, so I have been non-committal. Maybe he feels my hesitation about setting a reunion date, and perhaps he feels like I’m putting our relationship on the sideline…

But…deep down, I’m very scared of the results of mum’s latest MRI scan. I’m frightened  that if things turn bad, I may be in Taiwan for a long time to come. Of course, the rational part of me questions the necessity of worrying and fearing about something you do not yet know, and can even less control. But the emotional part of me—that part that worries and thinks too much perhaps— feels like it’s not fair to my friend to ask him to wait for me, even though we both know that recent bout of intimate time together and developments in the past week have made us more of a couple than ever before. I would like to be with him, to finally start a new chapter in our until now has been complicated and tumultuous at times… but am I really worth the time apart and time spent waiting for the next moment when we are together again, whenever that will be?