Eve of departure

06052012.2344

In a few hours I'll be leaving here. I don't felt sad. Is there a reason to be sad, to feel sad? Or maybe the feelings will come flooding when I board the taxi or the plane tomorrow (provided I'm not too distracted by the excitement of boarding a special livery plane...!)

Mum was already very sleepy and her eye lids were closing when I sat next to her on her bed and massaged her arms and hands one last time. I told her the usual things. "Eat well! Exercise! Be happy! Don't think too much about anything else!"

I told her I'll be back soon, even though I did not want to for I wanted to surprise her, like I've done so many times in the past. But things are different now, and I felt I needed to tell mum, reassure her, that I won't be gone for long, so she has something to look forward to. And I felt I needed to tell her I'll be back soon, so that she is not too overwhelmed by sadness, for she has on several occasions expressed to me how painful it would be when I leave. And I am leaving. By this time tomorrow, I'll be gone...

"You've been here too long. Half a year almost..." she said.

"No, it's only been four months," I said, and counted the months to let her know it really hasn't been all that long. Because I know she feels terribly guilty I've stayed around for much longer than before this time. It was necessary, and I don't regret anything. As I told the monk in the mountains on the phone earlier, I think I have done all I could, and perhaps that is the source of my calm, and in a way also quiet bliss.

I've done all I could, I've tried to do everything I know I could, tried to arrange things, and pass on the knowledge of caregiving to my brother and the new carer, and even stocked up on some items that I know mum would need. And I think I've given mum hope, a renewed chance to recover and live with dignity and the knowledge that she has overcome a very difficult struggle. Whatever happens, and even if there are more difficult days ahead, mum can think back and hopefully remind herself of how brave and how very strong she is to cling onto to dear on through even the most testing of times.

"I'll go back and work hard! I know I can do it when I return and concentrate of my studying!" I told mum. And I reminded her of the promise she made me, that she would also work hard and get up and out so she can recover her strength and be able to stand on her own two feet again. We both have work cut out for us ahead, and I hoped that in knowing that, even though we will be kilometres apart, we are connected in an additional way through the challenges we must face and overcome separately, but in a way also together.

The night is already ripening, and I have not much longer to rest. I must sleep, and will fall asleep to the sound of mum's breathing, and the quiet solace in knowing these few months have come and gone, and I have survived, and gotten stronger, and a little bit wiser...