Picking up

I slept early, and by the time I got up it was half past six in the morning. My eyes were tired, and my head still reeling from dreams and images, some very difficult to remember, difficult to let go of. Two goodbyes in a week. It is hard for anyone.

Mum arrived safely in Europe, and is now with my brother. I got up, but found it hard to pry myself out of bed, despite the gorgeous weather. The cat was still asleep, I walked into the bedroom mum slept in, and it was empty. A few packets of her medicine had been left behind on the table. A travel guidebook lay next to the pillow she slept on. I had gotten used to seeing her on the bed in the morning, and now she is gone.

I had wanted to clean the  house, but was lost where to start. I was even lost what to eat, for when mum was around, I would prepare lots of fruits and vegetables and healthy foods to make sure she eats well. But not that she is not around, I seem to have lost appetite.

In a way, I am afraid of shifting through the pieces of paper and receipts, the brochures, and finally sorting out the suitcases I had put away since we got back to Montreal three weeks ago. There have been many memories, many beautiful ones, but also difficult and testing ones. Not just of my time with mum, but also of events before that, before I left here. I have been away from my life for two months, and it is hard to pick up the pieces and try to put everything back together again.

But I need to, I need to for myself. I need to pick up the pieces of my life where I left off abruptly back in May, and start to rebuild my life. Clean out the clutter, remove the lingering sadness and memories, and start life fresh, determined to be happy and at ease with being alone.

Chaque chose en son temps

Everything in its own time...

Now you have other things to worry and think about. Now is not the time to be weak and to wander around clinging onto the past.

Move on. Live, play, laugh and forget.

crying...

Mum's plane flew over my head. I knew it was her plane, it was the same airline, the same 777 widebody, and I've been checking the airport departure information, and it was around twenty minutes after the plane left the gate at 17.56hrs.

I don't know why it was so much harder seeing that plane fly over me, climb higher and higher and fly quicker and quicker abd further and further away... I could not control my tears. Seeing that plane, knowing mum is on board that very plane and really leaving, not knowing when I will see her again, was so difficult to digest. I felt my heart waver, and huge tears just plopped down on the park picnic table I was sitting on.

I have been through so many farewells at airports growing up. At one point I stopped crying. I thought I had grown up and that the tears have dried, or that I've stopped caring so much.

But somehow I started crying when that plane fly over me and disappeared into the vast blue, blue sky... Somehow, I feel so lonely inside and am crying still...

bidding farewell

I waved and waved again till she turned the corner. And so suddenly mum was gone. The smile that was there disappeared almost as soon as mum disappeared from sight.

Second time i have had to say farewell to a dear one in my life in a week. Walking in the terminal building, alone in a crowded corridor, I began to fill so empty inside, whereas my eyes were unexpectedly filling with tears. Where did this sudden sadness come from...?

I decided not to go home straight away, but to go plane spotting. At the place where exactly a week ago, with my friend, I saw the same plane that mum will be on take off, circle around and make its way to Europe...

I hope to catch a last glimpse of mum...

Day before departure

Strolling down the street, I could overhear mum talking to a friend's mum behind me, saying how special I am, and how proud she is of me. I caught just words here and there, not that I was eavesdropping, but just within earshot. I walked on quicker so that the words became just garbled sounds I could not decipher.

It the night before mum's departure from Canada, her suitcase is not yet packed, but we have the day tomorrow to do just that. This time tomorrow, I will be sitting here alone by myself. Mum will have been long gone and far away over the Atlantic. All that will remain is her scent on the bed I offered her to sleep on...

I think she will miss Canada, a place she has been growing more fond of with every passing day. Most of all, I think she will miss me, and the little things that I have tried to do for her to make her feel at ease and comfortable. She tells me, and has told me many times, she sees and appreciates all the little things... constantly asking if she is hungry or thirsty, being concerned if the sores in her arms have returned, worried if she sleeps well at night, wondering whether she is feeling happy and enjoying herself... It is how I show my love and affection, and (despite the occasional grumpiness and impatience) there is much I can give when I can. She knows it. She feels it.

She was telling my friend's mum how special I have been, even as a child. I did not feel proud or full of myself hearing that. I just felt touched, very touched that my attempts to make mum feel loved and cared for have not gone unnoticed. All the little things I do, they are what I know to do best. They are the little gestures and intentions that replace the "I love you, mum", which I've always found difficult in saying out loud. Just now, I wrote to my brother, hoping that they can spend some precious, quality time together, and reminding him how lucky we are to have our mother to hold and to cherish.

Little does mum, who is lying next door and fast asleep, know that I have another little surprise for her before she leaves...

Gone whaling

 There was an inhale of air, and I could see a cloud of water vapour emerged from the surface of the water, with it, the dark, smooth curved body of the whale. They say there are blue whales, mink whales, fin whales and eight other different species that crowd the region , each with a name, each with its own way of blowing water out of its blowhole, each with its own unique manner of breathing and feeding. But all that detailed knowledge is beyond me, and in the short three hours, all I could manage was try to capture brief glimpses of these magnificent and awe-inspiring creatures of nature.

Our Zodiac circulated the waters around where the Fjord of Saguenay met the mighty St Laurent River and the inflowing currents of the Atlantic Ocean. It is here that every year from May to October, whales congregate to feed on the abundance of plankton and shrimps that get trapped in deep cavern-like terrain under the sea. A whale could easily feed on 4 tonnes of plankton, shrimps and fish a day, feeding up to twenty hours, for four, five months before they move on.

At least half a dozen whales I caught glimpses off. Often, it would be the captain or another fellow passenger who would shout and point out in a certain direction after attentively scouring the surface of the sea to and suddenly seeing water vapour blowing into the air. All eyes would then turn that way, sometimes only to see a tiny bit of the whale's body surface. Sometimes it's a dorsal fin, but most often just the smooth back of the majestic creatures. Rarely, if you are lucky, you get to see the entire tail surface and then quickly disappear.

As whales can stay submerged for up to twenty minutes or so before needing to breathe, it is a game of waiting and being lucky in looking in the right direction at the right moment. It could surface a few hundred metres away, and the next time it could surface even further away or perhaps just dozens of metres off of the boat. At times I wondered whether the whales knew what we were trying to do, and were toying with us by playing a clever game of hide and seek. How little and humbled I felt being so close to such a large, yet graceful and gentle creature of nature.

Fog set in, and soon we were surrounded and blinded. The trained captain with thirty years of experience under his cap sped in a direction where he knew whales are likely to appear. We all began to get drenched from the sudden downpour, and the sea wind felt bitterly cold. But even circling the seas seemingly senselessly and directionlessly, it was all worth it for just another glimpse, another close encounter with Earth's largest and one of the most intelligent mammals.

Wandering thoughts

Surrounded by all this beauty, all this nature... I am so far from everything, and yet my mind keeps on making circles and dwelling on the same thoughts.

Love, loss, regrets, frustrations, dreams and imaginations of having stability and a beautiful home, fears of what to do next and what changes will influence my life in the coming months...

Surrounded by all this beauty, seeing all that the world has to offer in its naturalness, in its rawness, and yet my mind is elsewhere. Anywhere but here.

in Quebec City

A light shower dampens the hot summers day, and brings in the cool evening breeze. Sitting on the ferry ghat crosses the mighty St Laurent and offers a magnificent view of the Old Town of Quebec, with Chateau Frontenac towering over the river.

It is a calming sight. An ancient city that reminds me so much of medieval Europe, with it's narrow crowded streets, little houses, cafes and bistros, and cobblestones. I feel like I'm back in time, back to places I have been to as a child and that have often filled me with a fascination and awe of the past. Beautiful ornate church spires, artisan workshops (now gift shops selling local arts and crafts), green squares with flowing fountains and wishing wells.

I walked the streets by myself after dinner, as mum has already retired to our room. It's my quiet time alone, which I enjoy thoroughly, for it gives me the chance to look back at the day and reflect a little. The city puts on a romantic glow at night, especially as the deserted streets carry a quiet calm that contrasts much with the hordes of tourists during the day. That romantic feeling is especially strong when I close my eyes and imagine being able to share the sights and sounds with another.



We walked around the Old Town a bit after arriving close to noon. The weather turned and it began to storm, so we spent a good deal of the afternoon lounging in bed and enjoying the pool. For lunch and dinner I took mum to restaurants serving local delicacies- duck, pheasant, bison and the like. All part of the rich experience I would like mum to have in these last few days in Canada.

She has little idea how much effort (and yes, money) I'm spending to give her the full experience. But that's not really important if I can see that she is smiling contently when she falls asleep after a long, full day.

And today, again, she said she is really beginning to like Canada, which made me feel so happy inside.

Plans

We all need to make plans. It gives our lives some kind of order. It gives us something to work toward. It gives us hope that we  can achieve something when we set our minds and hearts to it. And for mum, I think plans will be important to make sure she lives a fulfilling and happy life.

Mum and I were talking today. Ever since her retirement, she has been in and out of hospital until a month ago. It is a month to the day that she embarked on her long awaited trip. Time really has flown by, and we are already in the last week of her stay here in Canada. Off to the Netherlands next, where she will stay for some time, how long exactly is yet unknown.

...but what about after that? I said I really hope she can think about what she would like to do. What about moving here for a little while, I asked. Despite the turbulent first week here (especially because of our arguments), she has been telling me that she is beginning to enjoy life here more as she gets to know the neighbourhood and the city. Of course there are details to be worked out, and I don't think I could live with her for a long time under one roof (which she understands and accepts), but it would be nice if she could be closer by, at least for some period of time. It would really save me the hassle and interruptions of having to travel to see her so often.

But then again, staying in Canada will be somewhat more complicated, for not even I have any status here (yet?). So I said perhaps she can consider going back to live in Europe, at least for a short stay every year. She wouldn't want to live with my brother and his new family, but it would be feasible to have a little place close by where they live, so they can check up on her once or twice a week. With the new baby reporting in soon, I said it would be wonderful for her to be surrounded by her first grandchild, and that it would give her lots of joy seeing and being with a baby.

She will consider these options, and of course, they are just ideas. A lot of things and plans depend on her health condition, and whether her tumour will spread or not. But I told her again and again, it would do her good to get out of the apartment she lives in in Taiwan, to get away from the crowds of people, from the polluted and noisy city life, and, at least for some time during the year, go live somewhere peaceful. It will do her health and her mind much good, and it would also put my mind more at ease.

In a way, I am telling her all this, and hoping mum would make plans for her future because I genuinely wish she could find stability and happiness in her later life. She has the means, the freedom to travel and go wherever she wishes, so why not take advantage of that, and live, and most importantly live happily?

In another way, perhaps for selfish reasons, I hope she can be settled down in a comfortable and good environment so I can be more reassured and not to have to worry so much. The selfish reason being that really, after all this flying back and forth, after a lot of delays to my studies and future plans, I would so much like to get a start. Spending time with her is pleasant, but it can be tiring and at the end of the day, when compared to my friends and classmates who seem so advanced in their lives and careers, I feel sometimes useless and somewhat ashamed of what I am doing (or not doing...)

We can make plans, we can imagine what wonder things can happen when plans come together. But in the end, the whatever will be will be.

Friend's comment

"I'm so happy your mum made it," he said, "She looks well and peaceful."

It was at that moment that I realised what a journey it has been.

Crossing the Pacific, the Rockies, crossing Canada to get to the place where I call home. There have been ups and downs, for sure. There have been such testing, such difficult moments that threw me (and mum) into despair and fear, but we overcome them.

And we made it in the end. Mum is happy, now at this very moment. Happy. And nothing can take away that happiness.

Happiness that is infectious, that can cure and heal. Happiness that I hope will last and be remembered forever and forever.

farewell

The guy hugged his partner tightly , unwilling to let go. it was obvious there were tears in his reddened eyes. They kissed one another on the cheeks, once, twice, three times, four times, hard to let go as they hands explored one another's bodies. It was a bright, beautiful morning, yet two people before me were saddened by their imminent separation.

What the circumstances of their separation are, how long they have known one another, or even the true nature of their relationship, I will never know. But from their body language, from the way they kept waving to one another as the second man boarded the same bus I was on, it was obvious their love, their affection for one another was deep.

Why was the one crying, I will never know. Out of longing or loss? out of that emptiness that is beginning to grow when the other person is slowly getting further and further away? The true reasons only they know. It is like their little secret, something special that ties them together, and no stranger or onlooker can ever hope to understand or appreciate.

I saw my friend off, just as he saw me off some two months ago as I headed home. Some intense last minute packaging and cleaning, and too few hours of sleep has overwhelmed me. We fell asleep next to one another, naked. I don't remember if our skins was in contact with one another throughout the night, but morning came all too hurriedly, and all too quickly. Now I feel like a zombie longing for some good rest.

What is on your mind, he kept on asking me as we headed to the airport. I'm not really sure. There was something, but I'm not sure how to put it all together in a coherent thought or sentence, especially not after too little sleep, and before a farewell.

We said goodbye and hugged one another, again and again. I kissed him on the forehead and the cheeks, he gave me a little ear nibble. No lips this time, for it would be too weird and uncomfortable, perhaps. No tears, no sense of longing or missing, at least not yet.

Was I subdued, as he put it? Subdued due to the fatigue, or by something else? I'm not sure. He'll only be away be two weeks or so, and it'll be a good time to collect myself, clean up my life after all the comings and goings of the last two months. I look forward to time apart, to have my own space and time to breathe and meditate. Time figure out things in my mind, and move forward.

My friend passed through security, and I watched from a distance. What did I feel at that moment, besides being tired? I saw him get him bag after passing through the metal detector. He dis not look back, though I hoped he would, to turn back and wave, or smile. But he walked away, turned a corner and disappeared into the crowd. I lost him. And he lost me.

I have seen many people in my life through the same obscure angle at an airport as they gradually leave. Next week, when mum leaves, it will be another departure from my life.

Life, so often filled with people, sounds, obligations and emotions, quietens down once in a while. And it is at these moments that you realise, however beautiful the shared moments are together with another person, in the end you go through life alone, and must find peace with that.