Return to Niagara falls

I cannot but think back, how two years ago I called mum at this very spot. I grit my teeth as I listened to her weak voice reminisce the past, how she and I talked about our first visit here together as a family back in 1994....

I asked if she could hear the Falls, hear the powerful sounds of nature, hear the unending echo of the flow of water... She could not feel it's power, its incessant sounds and the damp on my face.

I broke down and howled. Tears poured from my eyes like I've not done for months. I couldn't cry in front of her as her body weakened and thinned , as I watched her become skin and bones and as cancer robbed her of life and colours. The falls were so powerful, majestic, beautiful.... My mum was once so in my eyes, and has always been so beautiful, kind and patient. Yet, she was losing her life, losing her colours, and I knew that soon I would lose her...

I broke down after speaking to her.
Cried just as I am crying now. Uncontrolled outpouring of emotions, of tears that I could not cry before because I needed to be brave and strong in front of her, in front of everyone. But deep inside I was in pain, hurting and crying. Then, as I am now.

Two years on, her body has gone to ashes, her belongings stored in a space I do not dare to enter, in boxes I do not have the courage to unpack or touch. 

I watch the Falls and realise again how much I miss her... The force of nature is so raw, so strong, so powerful. It gives and it takes, and what are we but little human beings at the mercy of its whim?

Two years, twenty years later, so much has changed...

Anniversary

I woke up early to the beeping of my phone.

It was my brother, who had sent me two pictures of his dining table, at the head of which sat my nephew. Spread over the table were plates of food. Chicken, fish, vegetables, fruits,  and at the centre of it all, a picture of my parents, one taken at a restaurant in Taipei around 15 or so years ago.  I remember that dinner well, we were all there as a family. Brother was grumpy because I made him walk in the summer heat to get to the restaurant. It was a fancy place, close to the bank where dad worked at the time, and part of our annual family dinner...

Now, its just my brother and his family, and me left now.

How do I feel? Pensive, reflective, sad and slow today... Again, as much as I can 've surrounded by friends, there's that deep emptiness inside that cannot be filled... Not by booze, not by sightd of superficial people dressed in tight and colourful clothes,  not with upbeat music.

Most likely I will take some time on my own, get away and walk off the heaviness, and think of the mum (and dad) who gave me so much and made me who I am today...

I wish my parents could be proud of me and who I am...

You can be surrounded by thousands of people, surrounded by booze and party music and mood....

And yet so empty, so very empty inside.