Today's the day

 I lay next to mum on her bed. I could feel the warmth of her body, hear her breathe softly. The meditation music I put on in the background sent her off to sleep. I closed my eyes and meditated for a few moments...

"Peace, happiness, freedom from suffering... Peace, happiness, freedom from suffering..."

A last hour of my twenty-seventh year, and I was lucky to spend it lying next to mum. To think, so many, many years ago, I was still inside of her, I was still so very small, so innocent, so ignorant of the ways of the world. To think, so many, many years ago, mum was younger, stronger, and healthier. A simple cough would not make her vomit. She could go to work during the day, come home to cook, and take care of a husband and two children. She could go anywhere, do anything she wanted to at will. Now things are all different... I have grown up, I am for the most bit away from her, and she has grown old, grown ill, and slowly, slowly is losing control of the movement of her hands. Much of mum's waking moments are coping with pain, bearing the sores of her aged and ill body...

I opened my eyes and looked at mum's face.. how wrinkled it is, how much sweat and tears that face has shed over the years, and never for a moment did she complain anything was too hard, too unbearable. Instinctively, I reached over and stroked mum's hand... how wrinkled it felt, how much those fingers have worked and toiled over these two, three decades from the day I was born, to provide for me, to care for me, to love me in so many different, different ways...

"I have burdened you..." Perhaps my touch had woken her up. The meditation music reached a crescendo.

I closed my eyes and turned away. "Don't say that!" Mum perhaps does not realise how painful it is to hear that... Even if at times, I feel it, even at times I feel like my life has not been going anywhere because of the circumstances she is facing, it still is very painful to hear mum say that. I know being by her  side for so long has greatly tested my patience, and there are moments I have been impatient, I have been rude to her, I have been frustrated and angry at her, I have perhaps made her disappointed and feel pressured to "get better" when she is not getting better... Even so, I am just trying, trying to cope, trying to do the best I can and with what I know. Even if mum were a "burden", what  am I supposed to do? Just leave her on her own when she cannot even properly use utensils, let alone cook for herself? Just leave her when she has so little will to go outdoors, and everyday looks so sad and depressed? "You are my mother! How can you say that?" I closed my eyes even tighter.

I can only do what I can do. And nowadays it feels like I am able to do so helplessly little, which pains me, which frustrates me greatly. For growing up, mum could always make me feel safe... growing up, mum could always heal my wounds, and make me feel better again. And yet now, I am unable to do the same for her. I cannot make her feel better. I cannot make her better, whatever I do.

"I'm worried..." mum said faintly, and coughed. Her closed eyes squinted, a sign she was in pain.

"Worried about what?" I played with the heat packs I had just removed from boiling water. The packs are supposed to ease the soreness around mum's shoulders and neck, and are supposed to help her  sleep easier.

"About you. Brother is already married, but you..." she strained to speak. The four sessions of CyberKnife treatment, though swift and seemingly painless, have as expected damaged her throat even further. Her throat has become swollen, and when she coughs, there is yellow phlegm.

I closed my eyes, as if in closing them, the lingering sadness can be shut aside. If not, at least the tears that threatened to seep out could be shut inside.  Mothers worry about their children, that cannot be changed, and especially Asian mothers worry about their children's marriage. Even in her state of discomfort and pain, or perhaps exactly because of that, mum's mind is still preoccupied with me and my life.

"I cannot control love or who loves me..." I said, "However much I wish to have someone in my life, I have no influence over that..." I was again reminded of  the conversation mum and I shared on my 'real' birthday, the one my parents remember mainly, two weeks ago. Mum asked about my ex, but I did not want to go into details. All I said was that I have not spoken to him much for two months, and that I hope he is happy.

"Why don't you think of yourself? I am still young, I have a life ahead of me. But what about you? Why spend you time worrying about me, worrying things I have no say or influence over, when you could spend time thinking about what you want to do with your life?" I held mum's hand. I have said this to her so many times, and I know deep down she too wants to plan her life after retirement, I know deep down she too wants to enjoy her life as best as she can. But the physical is a huge obstacle standing in the way, and nobody can really understand how much she hurts, how much she is so weakened and so burdened by her deteriorating health and having to hear again and again that the cancer is spreading... As she said to me once or twice, "You're not the one with cancer..."

We were silent for a few moments. Mum closed her eyes. The music continued playing. I looked at her, at her aged faced, at her wild, uncombed grey hair. I looked at her nose, her lips, her chin, her cheeks ever so closely... Have you ever really looked at someone you love and care about from so close? Have you ever looked at your own dear mother from so close?

I see my dear, brave mother, see her age, I see her slowly grow weaker and more ill by the day. How far we have come together all these years... how much longer and further can we journey together in this life?

Can I again take her traveling and can I again show her the world and its many beauties? Can I fulfill her dream of finding a partner with whom I can settle down for life, so that she may leave this world at ease? I stroked her hand, softer and gentler this time, for fear of waking her again, like I did before.

Just as I thought she was already asleep, "Thank you for everything..."




What’s the trouble on your mind? 你在煩惱什麼
(translation mine)
There is no flower that will not wilt,
There is no tide that will not retreat,
There is no light that will not darken,
What’s the trouble on your mind?

There is no scar that will not fade,
There is no wound that will not heal,
There is no despair that will not stop,
What are you being melancholic about?

Time will never reply,
Life will never make a turmoil,
Even if there is only one moment,
I am not afraid,
It is that one moment that makes up forever…