At the end of the day,
You are alone,
And must face the quiet and the solitude alone.
At the end of the day,
You cannot rely on the unending compassion and support of others,
And must realise that real peace can only be made within.
At the end of the day,
When you think back at the onslaught of tears and emotions that were ejected,
You may cry again,
Or you may toughen up and bite the inside of your lips and say to yourself,
The day is almost over.
Soon it will all be over.
As I stood in the airport terminal and explained to the auntie the whole checkin process, I suddenly felt this pang of sadness rise and take over me. This seems so familiar. These feelings feel so familiar, are feelings I've not felt in such a long time...
Caring for someone. Explaining to someone patiently how to do something so they do not get confused and are not afraid to go off on their own. I did that so many times before with my dad, with my mum. Just like the moment i had this afternoon. That care and love and hope that someone you care about will be safe on their own as they travel.
My friend's mum was leaving to visit her in Vancouver, and my friend asked me to take her mum to the airport, which I gladly accepted. This auntie is always so kind to me, and treats me as if I were part of her family. Six months back, i took her on the very same journey and she just trailed behind me and said she felt really secure and didn't have to worry much. Today, she's going on her own. I felt responsible, and wanted to explain to her as best as I could so she is not afraid or anxious. In this auntie, I saw reflections of my own mother... Living overseas, but lacking the necesarry language skills to be fully independent. A foreigner in a foreign country, unable to fully understand what is going on, and unable to fully take part in society. Going out can be a challenge, and there is forever that fear of being in a difficult situation and being unable to explain or express yourself, when all you can do is nervously smile...
I pointed out the guest lounges, the boarding gate, and briefed her again on going through security. I told her not to worry, that there is nothing to worry about for all she had to do was get onboard the plane and as soon as she lands, there will be no customs. It's pretty straight forward, I said and reassured her that she would be alright.
i looked her in the eyes, and she looked a bit anxious. I told the auntie to be careful and to have a plesant trip and reunion with her daughter ( my friend). Then I gave her a big hug. A hug that lasted for a while as I patted her back. I felt myself inadvertently tear and struggle so hard to contain my emotions.
I watched as the auntie walked in line and queued for security. I started waving at her, smiling, or at least pretending to. Inside, i was overcome with emotions. How many times have I lived and experienced this moment with my parents? How many times have I said goodbye to them at airports around the world? How many times have I had to be brave and be strong so that my parents cannot see me cry and feel sad themselves?
I know, it's not my mother, but in this auntie I felt the closest resemblance to the dear mother I have lost. And in saying goodbye, in watching her disappear in the crowd of passengers, I was reminded of that heart wrenching loss I feel. It was so bitter, and yet so sweet to feel. Who would have known an act of kindness and gesture to help a friend would turn around to make me feel this pain and this sense of longing and loss inside?
What I would do to have the opportunity for another word with mum, for the chance to hug her and show and tell her how much I care about her.... What I would give to have the opportunity to say a final goodbye and send her peacefully on her way with the knowledge that she will be safe again. Those moments at the airport made me think of the characters in the fictional town of "The call from heaven", where several people began receiving calls from their loved ones abd from the deceased.
I stood around for close to twenty minutes and followed with my eyes this auntie every step of the way. I noticed she got held up. I saw her carryon being flipped open and a security officer go through everything inside. She gestured to me. She looked nervous. And next I knew, the security officer walked toward me and crossed the secure area and beckoned me to get closer. He smiled at me and handed me a folded Swiss knife with a bottle opener all in one. "Can't take that onboard, I'm afraid!" I took the "deadly" device and pocketed it.
I looked up, and the auntie smiled at me.
I waved and gestured a thumbs up to her, trying to let her know I have it and will keep it safe. I watched as she put on her boots her, her jacket and packed her carryon again. She stood out from the crowd. Not only because she likes to dress colourfully, but because she was a reminder of my mother. She is a mother, on her way to visit her child and have a reunion. In her purse is a card I wrote to my friend. On the card, I wished my friend a wonderful reunion and hoped that she would cherish the moments together with her mum (even if its just wandering around the aisles of the local supermarket...). Because moments with your mother are precious. Because moments with a loved one are limited, and once gone are lost forever.
