Hugging mum...

I burst out in tears the moment I woke up...

In m dreams, I was with mum. I was hugging mum so tired and crying on her shoulder. It was such a tight and warm embrace, like I have not felt in such a long , long time. I miss mum so much, so much... especially now in this holiday season when people are coming together with loved ones... Winter, and the month of December and beginning of January, has to be the most painful, most upsetting and lonely season of all... I dread this coming month. Dread the festivities and holiday music, the shopping crowd and the families and gatherings and scenes of Christmas trees and fireplaces...

Hence this dream. Because deep down inside, I miss all this, and have nothing, no family, no good friends I can call family, nobody I feel close enough to that can make me feel the care and affection I so long for...

In the dream, mum and I were traveling. I seemed to be some kind of indoor amusement park, and we separated so she could have her fun, I would go my own things. We agreed to meet together again at 8pm. But as soon as I went into the section of the park I went into, I lost myself... the lights, the enticing arcade games, the thrill, the boyish pleasures... I lost track of time, and the last thing that really amused me were these toilets that were completely automatic and put on a wonderful display the moment you're done with your business.

I must have spent over two hours there, and then suddenly I remembered mum was waiting outside. How guilty and anxious I felt! How horrible...!

I ran outside, my heart raced so, I felt like crying already...

And then I saw mum standing there under a clock. The hand showed close to nine fifty...I was almost two hours late. She looked worried. She lost agitated and lost.... but as soon as mum saw me run up to her, her face changed and became a smile...

I hugged her and burried my face in her body. And I started to cry. "I'm sorry mum, I'm so sorry," I said...

"It's ok, it's ok... You were enjoying yourself and forgot the time. It's ok..." she patted the back of my head. She comfort me  with soothing words. She hugged me tighter to tell me it's alright.

But I could not stop crying. All I could think of was I let her down and kept her waiting for me... all i could think of was that I was selfish and didn't think of her, maybe even disapponted her...

And how lucky I was (in the dream...) to be in her warm embrace, to feel and touch her, to hear her, to be in her embrace and feel her body hear her motherly voice. How lucky I was in the dream to feel the protection of her arms, to feel the strength of a mother protecting her young, to feel the forgiveness and understand of a mother...

I could not stop crying in the dream...
And I cannot stop crying now in bed.

Drifting

Two days into my new life in Canada, and I have been bogged by such heavy feelings. I lie in bed and close my eyes, and just sleep... I just want to sleep, close my eyes and pretend that nothing matters. I am so tired. So tired. And so dreading the month of December, supposedly the most festive month of all, which is also the coldest and most lonely month of all.

I tired to make known to someone how I have been feeling since my return from my trip, but it did not seem to echo. I have become very cautious nowadays voicing my emotions and feelings, because a number of attempts at voicing my feelings to people were just met with remarks along the lines of "everyone is going through the same thing..." or "there's nothing new here". I need encouragement from people I can talk to and trust, not disparaging remarks that make me feel like I am a whinging lazy layabout who cannot bear to work 14 hour days for over a month...

No, my feelings are more fundamental than just griping about life and discontents... There's simply a lack of true friendship and care, true affection and human contact that makes life beautiful and worth living at the moment. I put myself out there to be seen and recognised, to try to connect with people on different levels, to forge new friendships or other relationships, but nothing... nothing.

So I got on the phone with the monk back in Taiwan tonight and we spoke for almost an hour. Something he told me touched me. It's been four years since he lost a loved, in fact, it's coming up to the four year anniversary. And yet he feels this void, this bitter sweet memory. It will never go away. It is a void that cannot be filled with work or passage of time (though the numbness and pain will fade...). It is not a void that people who have not lost anyone can understand or care to really understand.

He said at the weekly meeting between him and some disciples, they happened to talk about mum, talk about how brave she was, how she struggled and was such an inspiration to us all. I could hardly contain my tears...

That was my mother... my dear, brave mother who braved it all and lost her fight. She is at peace now, she is at rest. and yet what tattered and traumatised state am I still in? How hopeless and lonely have I become? How fragile have I become that even seeing her phone number could unleash tears?
And do I dare tell this to anyone? Can I tell anyone who can take my hand and say "It's alright... I will be with you till you no longer feel this way..."? Can I describe how I feel without feeling like I am a fool, without having my emotions thrown back at me and my grieving dismissed as my desire to unnecessarily linger and dwell? Nobody, not even my brother, can listen to me and just let me speak, just let me empty my emotions, let alone acknowledge my emotions without judgment, without criticism...

"One day at a time," the monk reminded me, "All we can do is live one day at a time..." One day, one moment at a time. Face the lonliness, face the pain, face the void and face that seemingly deep sense of betrayal and loss of friendships and relationships because people simply do not understand and you simply cannot muster the energy any more to explain yourself... "It's only been so long, and not long enough..."

It's been almost eighteen months, eighteen months, since the last significant loss, but it feels at times so much longer, at times as if it were only yesterday that I was kissing mum's forehead and cheeks for the last time ever. And ever since there's been losses, of my favourite monkey and bear, of my dear cat, of friends who have grown distant... Eighteen months may be a long time, but eighteen months may as well be simply a portion of the length of a long and painful struggle against depression and solitude. Depression and solitude that will get worse as the winter months and "festive" month of December sink in...

What else can you do but take one day at a time and tell yourself things will turn out better?
What else can you do but tell yourself, even falsely, that change and hope is just around the bend?
You can only take it one day at a time, and hope for the best.