First step to becoming a lawyer

I started studying, the first time in a long, long time. Studying for an exam I'm going to sit in a little over three weeks' time. It'll be my first exam in Canadian law, and it'll mark the beginning of getting qualified to practice law in Canada.

I want to qualify as a lawyer. It is a promise to myself, and a promise to my parents (yes, to mum, and dad too) that I will one day become a lawyer. I don't need to be a big-shot corporate lawyer. I want to work with the law to help people, to make a little difference in this world. Even if that difference is in the world of one person, that is enough. That is my ambition. That is my dream. That is what I will achieve one day, I know it.

I've been just reading the recommended text books for the last two days. A slow start, reading and taking notes, and progressing at twenty pages or less an hour. The five hundred or so pages will take me a long while to cover, and this will be the start of perhaps days and nights of studying in the period to come.

I'm not really sure what to except, but there are reading lists and core readings that have to be covered. This is the first time I'm going to sit an exam where I'm preparing by my self, and will not have attended any classes. I'm not too sure whether that will hurt or benefit me, but at least all that I need is to get enough score for a "pass" (it's either a pass or fail, doesn't matter what score).

I'm wishing myself good luck... I may just need it.

First day

I admired his face and body from afar. He looks so fragile, so small, so frail... How I wish to feel and hear his breathing, to listen to the sounds he makes, to feel the warmth of his little, little fingers and toes...

I called brother and finally managed to reach him. It was a smooth birth, from labour to my nephew entering the world took around two hours or so. All very quickly, he said, and he was there to greet the little life with his own hands. "Very touching", he said. I listened and imagined the scene, the beautiful scene...

All vital signs are normal, ten little fingers, ten little toes, weighing at  some 2950grams, which as I suspected from seeing pictures, is a little on the low side. But the child is healthy, and the mother is relatively well too, despite obviously being exhausted from the labour pains and giving birth.

My brother said the baby and mother are home now, discharged after just a day. He tried to change the diapers, and apparently my nephew's pee sprayed all over the freshly painted wall. My brother wasn't upset, as he normally would be, but found it amusing. And I reminded him of a story mum once recounted when my brother peed all over my mum's (or was it my dad's...?) face just a few days after he was born.

From the conversation, I could hear the excitement , but also a little fatigue, in brother's voice. He said he did not sleep much over the past two days, especially since the baby got home, as they are still adjusting to his cries at night and waking up at random hours. "It's always hard in the beginning," I said, but eventually they'll get used to it.

More and more, I am tempted to hop on a plane and fly to Europe to visit them, and to take this little being in my own arms....

Moving show

The last time I saw the Lion King was in London, in the Summer of 2002. It was actually with my ex, ironically a few days after we broke up. It was a bit awkward, and we went to the show as planned. In the end, it was an amazing performance, my first musical experience, and brought to live an all time favourite Disney movie, many songs ad rhythms of which I knew by heart from hours and hours of playing and replaying the cassette I once owned.

I went again, with two friends (one of whom is, ironically, now also an ex), tonight. I looked forward to the performance, and though it was good, perhaps the setting and small stage did not really do the spectacle much justice. Even so, a number of the songs made me tear, and at moments uncontrollably.

Other than the classic Circle of Life, there was this one, sung to Simba by his dad, just before he passes away, and sung again when Simba regains his pride and decides to return to the life and fate he had tried to run away from.

The lyrics spoke to me, and caused the tears to flow...

And a voice
With the fear of a child
Answers
....
He lives in you
He lives in me
He watches over
Everything we see
Into the water
Into the truth
In your reflection
He lives in you"

Touched I was, deep down and the longings for dad resurfaced. I wiped away the tears, embarassed and unsure while I was even crying. Perhaps my friend, who sat behind me noticed, and I felt a few strokes of his hand on my back.

I thought of images of my nephew my brother had sent me... The circle of life indeed... we loose someone, but somewhere down the line, another blessing is added to our dull grey lives. This is the circle of life, birth and death, happiness and sorrow, loss and gain all repeating and counterweighing one another in a miraculous and mysterious way that makes the world turn around and keep on turning.

"In your reflection... he lives in you..." 
Though sad, there is a source of strength to be found in that sentence.

Baby boy

I saw the pictures and almost instantly began to tear... a beautiful baby boy was born today an hour or so ago, in the Netherlands, at Bronovo hospital right next to the home I grew up in.

Mum and I have been expecting him ever since we first heard about him some seven months ago. The moment has finally come, a week or so overdue, but never too late to bring much joy and excitement into our lives.

Big eyes, sweet face and cheeks, a head of hair, pale skinned, tiny little arms and legs...

I've not managed to reach my brother and don't know much details (I don't even know what he is called...), but the baby and mother seem to look alright. I do hope so, and the coming few hours and days will be critical, and I am thinking of them fondly and sending them my wellwishes....

Another addition to my family, and I can hardly contain my tears of happiness. It is so beautiful, so miraculous, so soon, so very, very touching... Why am I crying? Is it because this outweighs much of the pain and difficulties my family has faced over the past couple of years? Is it because I am now officially an uncle, and can't wait to shower the child with all my love and all the most wonderful gifts I could imagine getting him? Or is it because deep down, I too would like a child, to hold, to cherish, to love and to protect and guide as s/he grows up...?

It doesn't matter why. What matters is that the child is healthy, and that he will cement the loving relationship between my sister-in-law and my brother. What matters is that he will undoubtedly make their lives richer and complete with his cries, his smiles, his first little step, his first little word... What matters is that he will make our family, so spread out around the world, stronger and have more reason to be and get together...

I wonder if mum already knows about the wonderful news, as it's the middle of the night in Taiwan. I sent her a text message, jokingly congratulating her on becoming a grandma. I hope this news will bring her much, much joy and a grand reason to continue living life to the fullest, for she needs all the happiness and positiveness in the unsettling period to come...

And dad... this is what you have so often wanted, so often thought and talked about before. Though you are not here to witness the baby's birth into this world, though you cannot hold him close and listen to his chuckle, a part of you lives on in him...

From deep down inside, from my little heart, from across the Atlantic, I wish the baby  much strength, love and good health as he takes his first breaths of air...

I wish him much wisdom, kindness and compassion as he grows and learns the ways of the world...

I wish him much happiness, innocence and beauty, and hope that he will always be true to himself and to others around him. And I wish my sister-in-law and my brother much patience and wisdom as they begin their parenthood, and hope they will forever to provide the child with warmth, affection, and invaluable lessons to prepare him for the big wide world.

Happy birthday, my dear little nephew... happy birthday!

Pictures

One minute we were smiling, reminiscing as we looked at pictures from the past. The next my friend pulled away and stood with his arms folded looking vulnerable. His eyes became moist and red.

He rarely cries. "Stiff upper lip", as they call it, and Brits do it best. But his lips were wavering, and the tears were close to trickling down his eyes. I wanted to go and hold him... but I froze and felt uncomfortable.

What we had just seen and what had touched us all was the picture of a Valentine's bear he had sent me back in February this year. We had just become an item, and he put a lot of thought and effort into sending me a package stuffed with hearts and chocolates and lovely greeting cards. I was away at the time, accompanying mum through her treatments back then, and needed the support. I always burst into tears when I opened the package... tears of joy, tears of sadness and longing. Never before have I reiceved something so special, so thoughtful. Even more so because after all this time, we were finally together. Even though we were not together, I was his, and he was mine.

What made my ex tear? It is all over... all of that is over, and was ever so fragile to begin with. Behind the hearts, the cards, there were already the elements that would eventually lead to our break up. We had it all, or so it seemed, but even then, little did I know, he was torn and distracted by his feelings for someone else.

Perhaps it was that realisation... that it was so beautiful, it was all so wonderful, that we were both so happy together but can no longer be is painful to bear. Perhaps that is what made him tear? Perhaps that is what made me so numb, so numb... When you are numb you do not feel hurt, you do not feel at all.

I try not to think back. I try not to picture in details or imagine the words that were said or places we have been. Because it is difficult to reconcile the fact that from one moment to the next everything could break down. So fragile was our relationship, so fragile is life.

Ironically, when I was away, I sent him a porcelain doll-- one of a pair that was given to me by my brother and his wife at their wedding. I wanted my ex to hold on to and keep the doll safe until my return, until when the two porcelain dolls are reunited again. A very touching, symbolic and intimate gesture that was. He did receive the package, but accidentally the doll fell and broke into many, irreparable pieces. He immediately wrote to me to apologise, to tell me how terrible he felt... I said it was not a problem, because it is just a symbol, and not the real thing. Who knew... who knew at the time...

It took a little while for me to collect myself. And then I wrote him a little note, for old time's sake: let's not look at the past and cry, but smile.

And I do hope we can do that...

When that day comes...

"...if you get married in the future," mum said, "I've left [...] in the safety deposit. And there are some gold minted Canadian coins dad left behind. That is also for you too..." For several minutes told me about arrangements she had made. Just in case... when that day comes...

I struggled hard to contain myself. I said very little. I heard mum speak, but I was not really listening. Why is it so difficult, so painful to listen...? If I should get married... when will that day be? Will she be there to see me exchange vows with the person of my dreams, the person of my life, the one true love...?

"I can't be completely equal, but I've tried my best," she said, alluding to the fact that brother has received much more than she feels she is able to give me. He's bought a car, a house, had a big wedding... much of it "sponsored" by savings from our parents. And recently because of the impending birth of his son,  brother also received dad's life savings. It was dad's wish that he would get it and that the fund would go towards the child's "education fund".

"Please, use what little I'm going to leave as your start up capital for when you buy your first home..." She did not sound sad, nor did her voice waver. In fact, she sounded clear minded. Her voice was the voice of a mother who cares so much about her child that she wants to make sure she does everything in her power while she is around for the child to be safe and secure... "Be careful with the money, and remember how thrifty dad was when he was still here..."

I grunted in acknowledgement, because if I had to speak, I would betray the tears.

Deep down, I did not, could not care about the money or how fair it should all it. I should, and I am perhaps too foolish not to care, but if this is causing mum grief and worry, I could really  care less. In her current state of health, in her current stage of life, inheritance or how equal it should be divided, should be the last thing she should be thinking about.

In the end all I could muster were the weak words "Thank you..."





"I don't quite know
How to say
How I feel..."

 

Time alone...

My friend called me, and sensed something is wrong.

I have so much trouble hiding my emotions. In fact, tears are coming out now as I type. I have so much trouble hiding my emotions, most of all from him. He had a lovely evening planned with friends and asked me to join. I said I'm not in the mood, and he knew something was bothering me. He said he'll go out and then come by my place later.

But I don't want him to be there. I don't want support, I don't want comfort, at least not from him. I cannot go on and on being dependent on him. That is part of the problem, and part of why I'm crying... I know he cares deeply, and he has ever since we met. But he cannot continue caring so much, caring so much in a way that so difficult for me to accept. I can only accept this kind of compassion, care, and dare I even say love, from a lover... not from someone who is just a friend, however special he may be. It is just the way my mind works... It's my own problem, my own inability to accept a love greater than anything else that transcends being in a relationship. Simply, I cannot deal with this level of care and love from someone I am trying to get over, and from someone who is trying to get over me. That's why I withdraw, that's why I am trying to shun his care and his feelings.... maybe one day he will just stop trying, maybe one day he will stop caring so much, and can focus his energies and love on that one special person in his life.

I told him I really need my time alone, and that I want to be alone. I need to tell myself and know myself that I can deal with things no matter what and not be so dependent and reliant on one person, any one person-- least of all on him.

Part of shutting down, shutting away and turning inward is trying to find myself, trying to rediscover that inner strength and tolerance that has kept me going for so long. And I need, for my own sake, for my friend's sake, to know and prove to myself I can be fine and stand up strong by myself, however averse the circumstances.

In flux

Mum was avoiding the topic, but so was I. Just small talk... What have you been up to, what did you just eat for dinner... I told her I've been busy with my thesis and was about to go to tennis lessons.

Then I asked. Faced the facts as difficult as it may be. "How was the scan today?"

She was hesitant to talk about it. "Fine..." as usual, a lot of waiting and a whole afternoon gone. They inject you with trace amounts of a fluid radioactive marker that reveals "problem" areas better in order to make a better diagnosis.
Results due next Friday.

The doctor said they'll wait and see. But chemo is not ruled out. "Please don't rush home again. Focus on your work..." she told
me.

Inside, my heart sunk to another depth. I made my way yo tennis, my last lesson with this great coach I've had for over a month. For a while, while I was playing, I could distract myself.

But now the worries, the concerns are flooding back. Dates, plans, deadlines are spinning in my head, changing, in an unstable and uncertain flux...

I am again so torn, so weighed down by the latest news... And now it's different because I have to bear through this alone, can no longer rely on the support of my ex.

But life must go on somehow. It must go on somehow.

Changing expectations

At the end of the day, when all is done, when all has been said, there is only so much left.
And then you realise, whatever was there has changed, and the expectations must change with it.

And you are left to evaluate your relationship, your friendship together. Are we really so great together, so compatible, in whatever capacity, whether as friends or lovers? Or have I (have we?) been just too comfortable with what we know, because we do not know any better?

I would like to think we have been really wonderful together, and that we can still be very close, very intimate (in whatever capacity). I would like to believe and know that we mean a lot to one another, and that even little conflicts and tensions cannot sour that special bond.

But some events over the past two days, outbursts of temper and frictions between us, make me think twice. At times, I'm so lost as to what I did or said to provoke my friend that he can just suddenly raise his voice at me or lose patience. Yes, I am indecisive, yes, I can be stubborn and want to do things in a certain way... but I never (or rarely) mean to provoke, let alone try to antagonise someone.

And when someone raises his voice, or tells me he has lost patience with me, I freeze, I withdraw. It's not healthy, I know, for how am I supposed to deal with people out in the "real world" when I start to work or get into society? But, it reminds me of how I grew up being shouted at and having to put up with almost daily swearing and oral abuse. And it shocks me into freezing up, shutting down. It's a natural instinct, at least to me... an instinct of self-preservation and protection. I lose the will to defend myself, to want to explain, to respond. Instead I turn away.

And I feel myself doing that now...

Little notes

It's been a week or more since I last went to his apartment. I walked into it slowly, almost cautiously and looked around. It was cleaner, more organised than before. I looked around some more, and noticed that some things are missing.

In the last few months, or over the course of us knowing one another, I have this habit of leaving little notes behind. Often marked with a smiley, or signed with the cute and familiar name that my parents have called me since I was little. Little notes that say "Be happy!" or "Thank you for the dinner and wonderful night together"... Little pieces of paper that say and show that I care, and that say how very much I appreciate his love and care. little pieces of paper that I hope can touch his heart and make him smile and smile.

They have all gone now. I looked around, and nothing is left behind, swept up and gathered into a drawer, hidden from sight. I know I told him one day, soon after we broke up to clean up and said that it may help him move on and get past me. Even in my own house I did that, and gathered pieces of notes and cards I had written to him and he had left behind. But seeing it happen at his place feels strange, and his apartment is no longer the same. It's another sign that I dont mean the same to him, and can no longer play that role I used to play.

I remember when he broke up with his ex that there were still so many mementos and pics of his ex lying around, even months after their break up. I even went to help him do that one day, because he was crying and had difficulty taking things and putting them away...

Of course that was a four year relationship. But with me, it seemed like it was quicker and easier to clean away little things, little marks I had left behind. If it's any consolation, he did tell me the other day that he cried and cried as he was cleaning his apartment and as he came across all those notes and cards I wrote. Nobody has cared for him, supported him, stood by him like I have, he said. But it is just confusing and frustrating that the circumstances are such we can no longer be together...

Maybe that's not fair of me to conclude, but seeing the apartment again looks and feels so foreign and distant. It's no longer the same place I've found to be welcoming and familiar.

That night, though we went out with common friends and stayed out till late, I took the metro home. In the past I most likely would have stayed over at his place, but it just felt strange now, even though my heart wanted to follow him home and sleep next to him like before.

But things have changed, and ad cruel or difficult and painful as it may be, so too the heart must change.