Tears on a blanket

Tears leaked from my eyes and moistened the new blanket . It is so very, very cold tonight, and initially mum did not want to use the blanket. She actually bought it for me, the exact same one and bought at the same time as she bought one for my ex last year. But before she could say anything else, I quickly took the blanket out of its wrapping and covered her thin body with it. The blanket is so soft, so comforting, so tender to the touch.

I lay next to her, and placed my arms around her body. Silently, foolishly, for it is only something a child with an over-imaginative mind would do, I imagined my hands had healing power. I imagined that through my palms, I could pass on my own strength and energy. I imagined I could give her the necessary nutrients to keep her body going and to give her some of my weight (though there is not much to give...), for mum is unable to eat, and has been unable to eat properly for weeks now... Naively, I imagined that my hands could heal and take away whatever was ailing her deep inside and stop her from vomiting. Images of her bending over the toilet bowl, looking so sickly and so embarrassed flashed across my mind. I closed my eyes. "Perhaps I should have never studied law, but medicine instead. I feel so helpless and don't know what I can do for you..." Even with closed eyes, I could not stop the tears.

Mum sniffed a little. If she was tearing, it was not my purpose of saying those words. The last thing I want is to add sadness to her pain and suffering.

"It hurts me so to see you vomit so much...." More tears flowed, like an incessant stream filled with emotions, filled with love, undying love and care, which though precious and heart-felt, can do so very little to vanquish the demons that are ailing mum and destroying her body bit by bit, bit by bit...

Have you ever loved someone so deeply that when they hurt, you hurt too? And you love them so  deeply, much too deeply, that you hurt perhaps even more, because on top of seeing them hurt, you hurt also from from feeling so hopeless, from being so helpless to reduce or remove the hurt of your loved one.

How painful this kind of love is! How much suffering this strong attachment is!

But is it not the test of true love; of true, unconditional love that knows no boundaries, that is expressed in so many ways, and expressed time and time again? Oh, the tears, they did flow, so quietly and so powerfully that my body shook next to her. I tried to contain my shaking and sobbing, but the hurt was so intense. The love is so very strong, defying logic or explanation. I pressed my palms against mum even tighter, and my thoughts and positive energies went to her with even more vigour.

"...And I imagine dad is hurting too, seeing you like this..." I saw dad's face before me, the same smiling face I can see everyday on that portrait of him hanging in the living room. I imagined his face contorted in grief and pain... How would he feel if he were to see mum so thin and so weak, so lifeless and so down? Perhaps he is watching us, and weeping quietly too...  

Dad, do you see my tears? Do you feel my desperation? The desperation of a child, so helpless he is only able to shed tears and imagine he has special healing powers...