Father and son

Just saw father and son walk out of breakfast restaurant on a Saturday morning. The dad joked and tried to cajole the boy back into the car. They were smiling and laughing. A beautiful scene of the love between a father and son

Put down

I've been wanting to go to the shelter for cats with my flatmate, and today I finally had my chance.

There were so many cats, all so beautiful, elegant and innocent looking. My heart melted and went out to them, and I found myself asking why or how people can leave these beautiful creatures just wandering around the streets.

There was one particular cat, a grey one with a signature tuft of white on her (I checked, it's her...) chest. She was particularly friendly and affectionate.

Later at night I told my friend about her and showed him a picture of her, ad he too fell in love with her. He suggested we adopt her, and talked incidentally about cats getting old and the hard choice we may have to face to put a beloved pet who has been in our lives for so long down when it's ill or too old and suffering...

My heart wrenched when I heard those words. My erratic brain made the connection between a pet being put down and a human being being "put down" at that end stage of life. You don't want to prolong the suffering, you don't want the person to suffer unnecessary pain, and in a way you yourself don't want to have unnecessary pain. He described how it's difficult to see a loved one writhing and suffering pain...

I saw mum lie there in the hospital bed, writhing and struggling and fighting for breath... Oh, god, the tears threatened to erupt again... Mum, how you suffered so and I was unable to help.

And the question came back to haunt me, and made the smile I had earlier quickly vanish. Did I "put my mum down"? Did I kill her by pushing her to enter hospice all that time...? Did I kill her?

Did I kill mum...? Did I by increasing the dosage of her morphine, knowing fully well it might hasten her death...? Was it out of compassion and love and concern of her wellbeing and quality of life, or was it selfish and just not wanting me to suffer any more seeing her suffer and in pain...?

Mum, please you forgive me if I put you down before you were ready...
I held your hand and leaned on you, and I imagined it was what you wanted...

But did I put you down?

Perhaps for as long as I live there will be this guilty conscience I will have to live with...

Lonely heart

At night, when all is quiet, when no one else is around, the loneliness beckons...

And it lures me in, almost swallows me whole and crushes my soul. I never really acknowledged what a "needy" person I am in terms of affection and human contact.

But now I realise, when all is quiet, when I am alone at night, and there is no one I can call up, I feel my lonely heart ache and my eyes threatening to cry again..

At least I had you...

I listened to this song many times over the past few years. It is titled "At least I have you", and it is about a lover who cares and loved another so deeply that the person is willing to give up the whole world for the other .

The song has always been able to move me, and at times move me to tears. I heard the song when mum was struggling in hospital, writhing in agony and pain...
I sang along to the song when mum was recovering from chemo...
The song and lyrics echoed in my ears when I was holding mum's hand and encouraging her time and again to live her life as if every day were the last day...

For so long, I was there, as a son, as a child, hoping and praying by her side and from afar that she would get better, that she would be free from pain and suffering...

I heard this song tonight again.
And tears began to fall...

For those brief periods I was with mum,  despite all that was happening, I told myself: at least I have her in my life.

Now, despite all that has happened, despite having lost her, I tell myself:

at least I had her in my life...




"I am scared there is not enough time,
I want to hold you,
Until I can feel your hairline has the the trace of snow white,
Until [your] vision becomes blurred,
Until [you] cannot breathe,
Let our our body and shadows never part...

It has not been easy,
We have no command over our bodies,
I am afraid time goes by too quickly,
Not enough to watch you in detail,
I am afraid time goes too slow,
Day and night afraid to loose you...
I would rather grow old within a night,
And never part..."

Bank statement

I found crumpled yellow piece of paper in my rucksack as I was riding metro. I opened it, and saw mum's name and signature on it. Her signature was faint, but still recognisable. The paper was the receipt from a bank transaction mum and I made, and it was dated 20 March of this year.

Immediately I remembered... The vomiting, mum's weak demeanour, mum's gradual decline and inability to hold a pen, let alone sign her own name. I remember going to the bank with her that day to take care of some affairs. She wanted to repay a debt owed to my uncle, even though he had told her many times not to worry or think too much. But she was afraid that once she enters TW hospital, which at that time was imminent, she may have no chance to repay her debt... The bank statement was dated just says after we were told the cancer spread and was blocking the intestines, therefore preventing her from eating or drinking. Perhaps she knew she would no longer be here. Perhaps she knew that...

Little get together

Had quiet little get together for lunch today with friends. They were very kind and generous, and constantly told me to eat more, and more specifically eat more meat because I look so much thinner than before. But I resisted, and said I'm going to avoid meat (but despite protests from a true vegetarian, fish is alright...) till the 100th day anniversary of mum's passing, which is in less than a month's time.

There was the usual small talk about how life has been, about work and such, and of course inevitably conversation touched on how I am.

How am I? Despite appearances, despite smiles and my laughter, more emotional and teary than usual. "Sad..." I said, "Just sad..."

Sad... I cannot describe that feeling fully.

Just sad.

Sad...

And would I want to describe that feeling to people? Would they really try to understand or perhaps just say something dismissive like "It'll pass... You'll get over it..."? Sometimes it hurts more when you try to describe how you're feeling, and people just look at you and say things like that. Of course I'll get over it, of course it'll all pass. But at this very moment I'm hurting, I'm in pain, I'm in tears... All one needs sometimes is an acknowledgement of that hurt, that pain and those tears.

Sad... A kind of sadness that is not buoyed by the fact that I know I am so fortunate to have my health, to have all I need in life (and more...), and on top of it all, I have a nice job. And I have great friends who make me feel lucky and supported.

But I am sad because I'm missing that personal warmth and intimacy which I have gotten used to and at times taken for granted... Sad because I am not sure when or whether I will ever find that same level of warmth and intimacy ever again... The sadness is more pronounced at night when I curl up in bed. The sadness is more frightening and painful when I dream and see mum appear before me.

Yes, it'll all pass. Yes, my tears will dry, my smiles and laughters will be more genuine and true... But right now, I am sad. Just so sad.

Sadness

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I just started crying, right there in frOnt of people. Did anyone see my tears? Could anyone feel my sadness or pain? If nobody saw anything, it did not happen, right?

But I saw myself cry, I felt the tears and the deep pain, pain I know will be accentuated at night when I am lying alone in bed and trying to sleep.

I promised mum, I promised myself, I'd be stronger, braver... But I am not. Nobody knows that behind the smiles and my laughter, a  boy is crying and inconsolable.