It doesn't matter

"Thank you..." mum said, as she looked up at me from my bed, "I made you feel so wronged..."

I immediately teared, and my body shook with the sensation of being deeply, deeply touched. Touched because despite her harsh words, she does not mean them. I knew that already, but what she just said, her thank you, confirmed that again. "It doesn't matter," I said as I untangled the various tubes sticking out of her body, "As long as you are happy, as long as you are comfortable..."

Really, what does it matter if I think about it afterwards? After confrontations, even if I feel it is mum whose voice is raised and who is being demanding, so what? I don't need to be right all the time. I don't need to have my way, for my way is not necessarily the right wei.

I don't need to argue with her, don't need to fault her or lecture her on everything. She is already in a lot of discomfort, she has a tube going into her nostril, she has two tubes coming out of her IV port. Her body is a thin frame of bone and skin, her mind is probably in a daze of having not only to cope with the constant discomforts , but also having to mentally digest the risks of undergoing another surgery and the possibility that she may not have long left...

And I perhaps forget too easily, because I can eat, and I put food and drink to my mouth without thinking about it too much. But mum is starving! What does that feel like to be starved of food, to see food all around you, to smell food, to hear about people talk about food, and yet not be able to enjoy it?

Mum is already tormented enough, and she does not need me to torment her even more.