I started planning this day for a few weeks now, ever since I started seeing posters advertising Moulin Rouge- the Ballet at metro stations downtown. Since my boyfriend and I never really had Valentines Day together, I have been planning an occasion to organise something special, and it seemed the perfect opportunity.
Moulin Rouge is a wonderful love story, involving romance, jealousy, separated lovers and death. When I first watched the movie a few years ago, I was so touched that I cried in the latter half of the film. At the time, fresh in my first relationship, I was just beginning to experience and feel what the power of love is, and what it drives people to do. So today, going to watch the performance with my boyfriend has more significance.
I wasn't really sure how he would respond to the ballet, and in fact he actually screwed up his face when he realised where we were going... He's not really a fan of classical arts, and that initial reaction was extremely disappointing to see, especially as I wanted to bring in a little element of surprise and excitement.
During the performance, whenever the stage darkened for a scene change, I would steal little kisses, and almost throughout we held one anothers hands. It was a warming and enjoyable two hours together, though I'm kind of unsure what he really thought of the show... but the music, colourful dresses and elegant movements of the dancers brought to life a beautiful love story before us on stage, and I think toward the end he was more surprised by the performance.
Happy Valentines!
16 April 2011
"I wish her well..."
"I wish her well..." I have said that a couple of times since my former flatmate moved out of my apartment. Perhaps I have said that a couple of times too many that it sounds so jaded and fake....
Perhaps to the outside world, I may seem heartless to kick a poor girl who has no stable income out onto the streets, but two weeks after she moved out, a number of her belongings are still in my apartment and taking up space. I wrote to her a week ago, asking her to move her things as soon as possible, but so far I have not received a reply. Perhaps the tone of my message was too direct, because I basically wrote that after all I have done in the past few months to accommodate her, the least she could do is move her things when she moves out. No reply...
Instead, word got back to me that the girl may have even telling a mutual friend that I am lying about my mum's impending visit just to get rid of her... Imagine that... Lying about a visit I have been hoping and planning for two years to get rid of someone who has been staying in my apartment for free for seven months! Why, if I wanted to get rid of her, do I need to have a reason in my own house, for which I am paying the rent? I had given her more than ample time to move, and she turns around to 'bite' me like this... Perhaps I should have kicked her out sooner rather than now, much later, after she has gotten comfortable living off of me...
The situation really makes me feel frustrated and hurt, and I really am not in the mood for confrontation. All I want is my room back, all of it. I just don't want to have to see boxes of her things every time I walk into that room and be reminded that she was ever around. Even today, two weeks after she moved out, she still has my key, and can at any moment just walk back into my apartment without notice.
If I am seen as mean and ill-willed, then so be it. But really, deep down inside, I just wish to get rid of what has been a negative and exhausting influence in my life for the last couple of months and put this all episode behind me. Even after hearing rumours that she is telling people things about me behind my back, I harbour no ill feelings to her. In fact, I feel sorry for her... How can anyone have such short term memory and conveniently forget the things I've done to help her get on her feet, and just think of e as mean-spirited as soon as I ask her to leave my house? If someone were to help me and shelter me for so long and do so not expecting anything in return, the least I could do is show a little gratitude, and not start spreading untrue rumours or play the innocent victim being forcibly evicted.
"I wish her well..." I really do, as fake and as hypocritical perhaps as it may sound. But I know how I feel toward her, and that is enough.
Perhaps to the outside world, I may seem heartless to kick a poor girl who has no stable income out onto the streets, but two weeks after she moved out, a number of her belongings are still in my apartment and taking up space. I wrote to her a week ago, asking her to move her things as soon as possible, but so far I have not received a reply. Perhaps the tone of my message was too direct, because I basically wrote that after all I have done in the past few months to accommodate her, the least she could do is move her things when she moves out. No reply...
Instead, word got back to me that the girl may have even telling a mutual friend that I am lying about my mum's impending visit just to get rid of her... Imagine that... Lying about a visit I have been hoping and planning for two years to get rid of someone who has been staying in my apartment for free for seven months! Why, if I wanted to get rid of her, do I need to have a reason in my own house, for which I am paying the rent? I had given her more than ample time to move, and she turns around to 'bite' me like this... Perhaps I should have kicked her out sooner rather than now, much later, after she has gotten comfortable living off of me...
The situation really makes me feel frustrated and hurt, and I really am not in the mood for confrontation. All I want is my room back, all of it. I just don't want to have to see boxes of her things every time I walk into that room and be reminded that she was ever around. Even today, two weeks after she moved out, she still has my key, and can at any moment just walk back into my apartment without notice.
If I am seen as mean and ill-willed, then so be it. But really, deep down inside, I just wish to get rid of what has been a negative and exhausting influence in my life for the last couple of months and put this all episode behind me. Even after hearing rumours that she is telling people things about me behind my back, I harbour no ill feelings to her. In fact, I feel sorry for her... How can anyone have such short term memory and conveniently forget the things I've done to help her get on her feet, and just think of e as mean-spirited as soon as I ask her to leave my house? If someone were to help me and shelter me for so long and do so not expecting anything in return, the least I could do is show a little gratitude, and not start spreading untrue rumours or play the innocent victim being forcibly evicted.
"I wish her well..." I really do, as fake and as hypocritical perhaps as it may sound. But I know how I feel toward her, and that is enough.
Disappointment
Earlier this week, mum told me that she intends to come visit me soon, and just yesterday I opened my inbox to a surprise email from my uncle cheerfully entitled ¨Mum can go to Canada now!¨
How happy I was, so happy I could have jumped from my seat. There was a date, provisionally 27 May, and there were all these plans, of flying first to the West Coast of Canada, then taking the Rocky Mountaineer that she always dreamed of taking, and then staying with me in Montreal for a while before she heads to Europe to visit brother (and hopefully also the sister-in-law, if she is able to be there, pending immigration approval...)
So wonderful, it all sounds. Imagine the beauty that can be enjoyed, the fun that can be had, the memories that can be made. For the last couple of weeks mum has been telling me how she's been preping herself for the trip, how she has been diligently exercising everyday so she can regain her health and strength to make a long trip overseas... I, on this side of the world, have been looking at places I could take her, browsing websites for prices, times and schedules, and imagining how close I am to fulfilling that dream of mine of welcoming her to my Canadian home...
And then today, she wasn't so sure any more. She woke up with a sore back, and her arm has started hurting again. It comes and goes, of course, but what if she is on the road and starts to suffer unbearable pain? "It probably isn't a good idea to travel for so long, and to be so far away from home..."
I was disappointed, but I cannot blame her. "Just wait and see how things go..." I was disappointed, but in a way, it is not unexpected. The state of mum's health is no longer like it used to be, and she cannot just pack her bags and leave like other people. Maybe part of the fear is premature, but there is always a risk that something serious may happen on the road, and then what will we do, especially if we are far away from her doctors who know her condition? Plans and bookings are now on hold. She is going to see a doctor next week and is very likely going to start a new treatment. Who knows how she will feel after that...
I guess we'll just have to wait and see, and not celebrate too soon, even though I have been telling friends and neighbours that my mum is (maybe) finally coming, health pending.
How happy I was, so happy I could have jumped from my seat. There was a date, provisionally 27 May, and there were all these plans, of flying first to the West Coast of Canada, then taking the Rocky Mountaineer that she always dreamed of taking, and then staying with me in Montreal for a while before she heads to Europe to visit brother (and hopefully also the sister-in-law, if she is able to be there, pending immigration approval...)
So wonderful, it all sounds. Imagine the beauty that can be enjoyed, the fun that can be had, the memories that can be made. For the last couple of weeks mum has been telling me how she's been preping herself for the trip, how she has been diligently exercising everyday so she can regain her health and strength to make a long trip overseas... I, on this side of the world, have been looking at places I could take her, browsing websites for prices, times and schedules, and imagining how close I am to fulfilling that dream of mine of welcoming her to my Canadian home...
And then today, she wasn't so sure any more. She woke up with a sore back, and her arm has started hurting again. It comes and goes, of course, but what if she is on the road and starts to suffer unbearable pain? "It probably isn't a good idea to travel for so long, and to be so far away from home..."
I was disappointed, but I cannot blame her. "Just wait and see how things go..." I was disappointed, but in a way, it is not unexpected. The state of mum's health is no longer like it used to be, and she cannot just pack her bags and leave like other people. Maybe part of the fear is premature, but there is always a risk that something serious may happen on the road, and then what will we do, especially if we are far away from her doctors who know her condition? Plans and bookings are now on hold. She is going to see a doctor next week and is very likely going to start a new treatment. Who knows how she will feel after that...
I guess we'll just have to wait and see, and not celebrate too soon, even though I have been telling friends and neighbours that my mum is (maybe) finally coming, health pending.
13 April 2011
Tribute
The other day, I sat in my kitchen and quietly sipped my cup of tea. Chamomille with a dab of maple syrup. As I drank it, I thought of a lady I never knew, but even so, I smiled at the thought.
It may seem so strange, but a friend of mine contacted me recently and said that that very day would be her mother's first birthday after her death late last year. She said she would not be sad and would not be crying. Instead, my friend said she would make her usual cup of morning coffee and toast to her mother, to the "grande dame" who she was. She asked if I could do the same, even though it may seem so "silly"...
I was honoured that she would even ask me to commemorate her, and of course I did exactly that without any second thoughts. I wrote back to her, and sent her a picture of my steaming cup of tea. "Of course it is not 'silly'" I wrote to her. I also do the same every year, at different times of the year when I commemorate my dad's life. Little rituals, like writing to him, burning a packet of cigarettes or cooking his favourite dishes, offer not only comfort to the living, but also comfort to those who have already gone, I believe. "Silly" little rituals and actions remind us, and our loved ones, that they are and always will be a part of our lives...
As I sat and drank my tea, I was warmed inside by imaginations of what my friend's mother looked like, what she sounded and smelled like. My thoughts drifted to Carmen, who passed away this time last year, and I felt terribly guilty that being so consumed with my own life, I forgot to commemorate her passing or even write to her daughter, which I had been meaning to do.... My mind drifted also to the mother of another friend, whose mother has been in and out of hospital for a number of years, battling a seemingly formidable cancer... And my mind drifted to my own mother, to how I would commemorate her when she is gone...
Sometimes when you slow down to think of your own life, and the lives of others, many things in this world do not seem to matter much any more.
It may seem so strange, but a friend of mine contacted me recently and said that that very day would be her mother's first birthday after her death late last year. She said she would not be sad and would not be crying. Instead, my friend said she would make her usual cup of morning coffee and toast to her mother, to the "grande dame" who she was. She asked if I could do the same, even though it may seem so "silly"...
I was honoured that she would even ask me to commemorate her, and of course I did exactly that without any second thoughts. I wrote back to her, and sent her a picture of my steaming cup of tea. "Of course it is not 'silly'" I wrote to her. I also do the same every year, at different times of the year when I commemorate my dad's life. Little rituals, like writing to him, burning a packet of cigarettes or cooking his favourite dishes, offer not only comfort to the living, but also comfort to those who have already gone, I believe. "Silly" little rituals and actions remind us, and our loved ones, that they are and always will be a part of our lives...
As I sat and drank my tea, I was warmed inside by imaginations of what my friend's mother looked like, what she sounded and smelled like. My thoughts drifted to Carmen, who passed away this time last year, and I felt terribly guilty that being so consumed with my own life, I forgot to commemorate her passing or even write to her daughter, which I had been meaning to do.... My mind drifted also to the mother of another friend, whose mother has been in and out of hospital for a number of years, battling a seemingly formidable cancer... And my mind drifted to my own mother, to how I would commemorate her when she is gone...
Sometimes when you slow down to think of your own life, and the lives of others, many things in this world do not seem to matter much any more.
letter from a friend
Two days ago, I received an email from a friend, someone I've known for a couple of years, and with whom I communicate from time to time. Though we're in different countries, each doing our own thing, one aspect of our life is so invariably tied together, and that is our love and worry for our mothers.
In the latest email, she said her mother is suffering intolerable pain, and has lost all appetite. It hurts even for her to walk, my friend said, and being away from her mother, my friend is so often filled with guilt.
It pains me to read about her mother, what she is going through, and just to imagine the worry and stress that my friend experiences on a day to day, or perhaps moment to moment, basis. I write back, comforting her, assuring her, try to give my friend the comfort and care she needs, and deserves. but I wish there were much more I could do to take her pain, and the pains of her mother, away...
Maybe this is what brings us two together. This deep deep understanding, this ability not to feel like you are burdening someone (or at times talking to a brick wall) when you pour out your feelings about how much seeing our mothers in pain and slowly slip away is maybe what connects us. Maybe more than anyone, we can (almost) fully understand, we can fully empathise what the other person is going through. Other people may be able to offer words of sympathy, a hug or a pat on the shoulder, but unless you have seen and experienced your loved slowly have their mental and physical strength and will to live eaten away by a terrible terrible disease, you can never really know, can never really understand- however well intentioned the person is...
My feelings and my heart go out to you, my friend....
In the latest email, she said her mother is suffering intolerable pain, and has lost all appetite. It hurts even for her to walk, my friend said, and being away from her mother, my friend is so often filled with guilt.
It pains me to read about her mother, what she is going through, and just to imagine the worry and stress that my friend experiences on a day to day, or perhaps moment to moment, basis. I write back, comforting her, assuring her, try to give my friend the comfort and care she needs, and deserves. but I wish there were much more I could do to take her pain, and the pains of her mother, away...
Maybe this is what brings us two together. This deep deep understanding, this ability not to feel like you are burdening someone (or at times talking to a brick wall) when you pour out your feelings about how much seeing our mothers in pain and slowly slip away is maybe what connects us. Maybe more than anyone, we can (almost) fully understand, we can fully empathise what the other person is going through. Other people may be able to offer words of sympathy, a hug or a pat on the shoulder, but unless you have seen and experienced your loved slowly have their mental and physical strength and will to live eaten away by a terrible terrible disease, you can never really know, can never really understand- however well intentioned the person is...
My feelings and my heart go out to you, my friend....
11 April 2011
Visit
Finally after 10 days, my ex-flatmate came by and cleared up her room. She still has four boxes and a suitcase left in there, and she's promised to come back again to clear things away, but at least I can go in there and walk around without having to mind what I'm stepping on!
The room is not quiet free to use yet, and I've not yet let the cat back to her rightful place of abode. The very first thing I did when I got home was to spray the entire room with anti-bug spray- and lots of it! With all sorts of complaints my friend had about bedbugs, and more recently scabies, I can't be too carefully... I'll let the room air for a few days and soon it should be back to being my - and the cat's- space again, for the first time in over 7 months!
And it's about time too. Again, for maybe the fifth time in the past month or so, mum said she's gearing herself to come visit me, something she's been saying for two years already but never had the opportunity to. She says she's been exercising and living healthily to maintain her strength and health so she may come visit soon.
I dare not ask when that soon is, and when she talks about visiting, I am of course overjoyed to have her, for it has been like a dream and goals to have her see how well I've settled down here.
But...but deep down inside there is this horrible fear, horrible negativity and pessimism that something may change between her announcing her intention to come visit, and her actually getting here. So many uncertainties, so many factors depending on her health remaining more or less stable... Somehow, at timed when I am relishing in my relative happiness and freedom here, a dark thought crosses my mind to remind me how fragile all this could be, and how everything could so easily change with the sudden ringing of my phone at anytime, anywhere.
It's dreadful to live in a state of fear and u known...
The room is not quiet free to use yet, and I've not yet let the cat back to her rightful place of abode. The very first thing I did when I got home was to spray the entire room with anti-bug spray- and lots of it! With all sorts of complaints my friend had about bedbugs, and more recently scabies, I can't be too carefully... I'll let the room air for a few days and soon it should be back to being my - and the cat's- space again, for the first time in over 7 months!
And it's about time too. Again, for maybe the fifth time in the past month or so, mum said she's gearing herself to come visit me, something she's been saying for two years already but never had the opportunity to. She says she's been exercising and living healthily to maintain her strength and health so she may come visit soon.
I dare not ask when that soon is, and when she talks about visiting, I am of course overjoyed to have her, for it has been like a dream and goals to have her see how well I've settled down here.
But...but deep down inside there is this horrible fear, horrible negativity and pessimism that something may change between her announcing her intention to come visit, and her actually getting here. So many uncertainties, so many factors depending on her health remaining more or less stable... Somehow, at timed when I am relishing in my relative happiness and freedom here, a dark thought crosses my mind to remind me how fragile all this could be, and how everything could so easily change with the sudden ringing of my phone at anytime, anywhere.
It's dreadful to live in a state of fear and u known...
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