Almost as soon as I returned, I began decorating mum's hospice room. To personalise the place, to make it more like home and less like a hospice. I did similar things before when mum was staying at the normal ward on the lower floors of this very building.
In my mind, if you're going to be spending some time here, why not make it comfortable and familiar?
This time I went a bit further than before. I put up more pictures, first of all because there is more place to place them, as there is a noticeboard with lots of pins you can use. But most importantly, this stay may be the last stay, and I want mum to be surrounded by lovely scenes from places she's been to if that moment does come in this very room...
There are two pictures of her, one sitting next to a window on a train and smiling so beautifully and happily. Another one is of mum placing her hand on a tall tree with tree tumour in a show of solidarity and encouragement. I remember that moment well, for she said to me even a tree with tumour can grow tall and strong. That was a profound realisation and sign that she had come to terms with her illness. There is a picture of Lake Louise, with the reflection of the sky and the mountains on the tranquil lake surface. There is a picture of a fjord in Norway, a picture of the Matterhorn as seen from Zermatt-- a place we've visited three times together! There is a picture of the sunset in Evian, where we were "forced" to spend the night because I misread the date of our flight, and another one. And there is a picture of a sunrise, taken by me at the monastery I've been to for two ten day retreats. Plus, there are pictures of beautiful autumn foliage and tulips, as well as a picture of a golden Buddha, and one of my nephew sleeping and resting his little head on his hand...
From mum's bed, the wall with all these picture can be easily seen. The nurses and doctors who come in regularly sometimes stop to take a good look. Whereas on the first day there were only three or four pictures, by the time I went home again two days later, the will had become full! "It's so touching to see all those pictures!" one nurse remarked.
Another nurse commented on the large bear I had brought with me from home the one my ex gave me once and I in turn gave to mum around a year ago to watch over her while I am not around. In his arms is a giant red heart, one I got from the mattress store when I bought mum that new memory foam mattress days before Mother's Day. My little spacemonkey whom I carry around with me on "important missions" is also in the room, and around his next is a wooden plaque I/he acquired at the little temple on top of Tokyo Tower just days earlier. On the back of plaque I wrote in black ink: Eternal Happiness, which is what I wish mum, and also the name of the spacemonkey's current mission-- which is perhaps the most difficult mission of all...
These are just some of the cute, silly objects that I hoped would bring a smile to mum's face, and warm her heart. Mum sighs and says that the pictures and stuffed animals are a bit excessive. But I know that she is touched, especially when the nurses come and stop in front of the little personalised corner of the room and admire all these things I've put up. When mum has her eyes closed and sleeps, it is comforting to know that whenever she opens her eyes, the animals and pictures are there to greet her. As am I.
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