I stayed up till late, past three in the morning, mainly to work. But as I was working, I followed a plane till it landed safely after an almost 10 hour flight.
I do this always when members of my family are flying, something I starting doing as a child whenever my parents flew. We always flew long distances, almost always between Europe and Taiwan.
Today I followed the plane on satellite maps and online and even subscribed to the airline's web instant messaging system to keep me updated. They're not my parents, but parents of someone else, a friend. But still I care about their wellbeing. And in the aftermaths of a plane that has just "disappeared" (MH370) without a trace now for over 10 days, there is even more cause for concern.
They landed safely, i saw that. And now their wonderful tour around the world and long awaited vacation has begun.
As I laid down tonight, and grabbed the Winnie the Pooh bear that was once given to me for my birthday in the year my mum passed away, I don't know why I suddenly felt this pain and loneliness again.
I thought I was doing well.
I really did...
The pain never really goes away. The tears never really dry up. I am again reminded of those moments, those precious moments with mum, with dad.... Those moments of goodbye, moments of greeting at airports and stations...
No longer must I worry for their wellbeing or welfare. I worry and think of other people now, people who are not my parents, because I no longer have parents.
But all I have no, at four thirty in the morning on a work day, are moments in my memories, and this sense of longing and emptiness.
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