Slowing down

Walking slowly with mum in the rain, in silence, something crossed my mind...

I looked at mum from a few steps away, and noticed how frail mum has become, how much older and more fragile than I have ever since her before... Sometimes she closes her eyes, and I know because there is a shooting, sharp pain, most likely from her surgical wound. Sometimes she crumples her face in great, great discomfort, and I know it is because she really is hurting from just standing up and walking... I know mum is suffering, and yet I cannot do anything to help her...

Every step she takes seems to take great effort and strain. Every move so slow, so painstakingly slow. I know it frustrates her greatly, but she cannot fully express it. Her voice is too broken to say much, so much of the time we are silent nowadays. I know her current condition frustrates her greatly, for on occasion she lies in bed and tells me how much she wants it to be all over. Really over...

Being around mum, it is hard to stay positive, hard to keep on smiling and keep in being strong. I look at myself in the mirror and feel as if I have aged greatly over the past month, feel like my life, my youth, has been caught up in a relentless spiral that is pulling me back. How very selfish of me to think like that, I know, I know...

but part of me so much wants to hide... Hide far, far away, so I do not have to deal with all this... Hide in my sleep, so I do not have to feel... Hide in temporary moments of euphoric release and self-gratification, so I can drown out the pain... Anything else, anywhere else away from this place, this moment...

In calm I will find strength...
In myself, and from noone else, I must rediscover what it means to care, to be patient and to love...