Sleep well...

I was talking to brother about the ever-growing problem regarding my visa to return home, when mum woke up. It was one in the morning her time. I thought as she was up, might as well speak to her  a bit.

She was in bed, and said she didn't really sleep at all. Restless, lying around and thinking... Perhaps like me last night. I did sleep till after four in the morning, after crying and listening to dharmma talks online. Perhaps mum is worried about my visa status, and yesterday when I spoke to her, she said she felt guilty for causing me so much "trouble". She told me not to go home again, but that is completely out of the question. How can I not go home and see my mother one last time? How could I ever live with myself if she were to move on without seeing me and without me by her side...? The pain would be so immense it would forever change my life...

Mum said she was hungry, and wanted so warm soya drink. She had difficulty propping up the pad, perhaps because it was too heavy for her now, so I could only see a corner of her face. She looked so painfully, painfully thin. Bone and skin, bulging eye socket and sunken cheek bones. But she is my mother, still my beautiful, beautiful mother... And I love her so, I care about her so, whatever she looks like.

"I didn't really eat much today. Not feeling like I have an appetite..." she said. I told her she should still eat a bit, eat whatever she can, eat many meals spread out over the day. As I said that, I felt I was being hypocritical, and I cried. She did not see that. Hypocritical, because I too have been eating very little, I too have lost my appetite. In fact, I feel like throwing up when I eat, and that is very severe.

"OK, go eat something, and rest. Listen to some music to relax. Don't think too much..." I said. I just remembered now that if I were there, I would add a put a few drops of lavender scented oil around her pillow. She always loves that smell, that soothing, calming smell. And she usually is able to fall asleep quicker being surrounded by that scent.

"Goodnight, mama... Sleep well," I wished her.