New baby

My niece, not yet born, was supposed to arrive almost two weeks ago. But to date, she is still hanging around in my sister-in-law's big belly.

Almost two weeks late, and the doctor said they are going to induce the birth. They did that yesterday. I'm not sure what the details are, but it is projected she should/will be born today. It is 7am in Europe now...

any minute, any moment perhaps...

May it be a successful birth, may mother and child be healthy and well...

Memory

The other night as I was sitting in my condo flooor (not much furniture yet...) An image, a memory popped into my mind...

It was a few weeks after mum bought that home in the Netherlands, it was 1998. September, or October it must have been, the season for terrible storms and rainfall. It rained for days, and someone , probably my brother discovered that the ceiling of the small bedroom was damp in one corner of the room. And that damp soon became a leak.

Mum's , I could see, became distraught. Brother and I rushed out into the rain to inspect the source of the leak... We secured a piece of plastic to divert the flow of the rainwater so it wouldn't go into the walls. That temporarily eased the dampness and flooding.

That night, I saw mum kneeling on the floor of that bedroom, praying to the gods for the problem to go away... Praying perhaps that it is not such a big problem. The next day or so it stopped raining.

That image of mum kneeling on the floor praying will stick with. It brings a tear to my eye to see that before me now... Mum on the floor. I stood quielty behind her and felt so touched. Did I also kneel and pray behind her? I forget. But that moment showed a mother's love, and that deep deep care and worry she felt having bought a place for my brother and I to live in and becoming so distraught knowing that the house leaks...

The leakage was fixed a few months later, at great cost. We had to ask dad to transfer a lot of money for that repair. Between that first leak and the roof being repaired, there were many nights I am sure mum could not sleep easy. Even the ceiling of my bedroom began to become damp and leak. I would at times use a basket to collect the water. My bed and duvet would become damp and have white flakes of paint on them. Mum left to go back to Taiwan shortly after that. That was the start of me living alonex the start of our separation.

I miss mum... I miss dad...

I have a condo now. My first home.
And now I wish my parents could be there to share my joy, to share my memories like these, to share my pride, to share my pain.

Flowers

I wasn't sure what to say when my friend told me that his mother, who's been doing chemo, is not doing so well. Just feeling nausea, sick and much tougher as the treatment progresses.

My mind conjured that horrible image of a frail patient will sunken eyes and thin cheeks, criss crossed the with the image I have of the mother , whom I saw in person about a month or so ago. How she must be feeling... How my friend must be feeling...!

Do you ask more questions to express concern and care? Or do you quietly wait for the other to tell you more details? I'm not sure... But as my friend told me how unwell his mother is, the first thought that came to my mind was get her flowers.

Flowers can say so much... Flowers can really brighten someone'S day, even when the days are grueling and terrible to bear...
I sent her some a few months ago , and she absolutely loved the forsias and said the fragrance filled the house.

Anything... Anything to lighten up the mood, to distract and make life and living a little more bearable , just that little push toward getting better again , helps.

At least I think so. I know so.
May those flowers, the fragrance and colours brighten her day tomorrow...

Cancer is tough, oh so tough.
May cancer patients have the strength and will to go on and have that gentle calm to cope with the effects of this tiring battle...

New beginning

Sitting on the floor of the new condo in downtown Toronto. I didn't think this day would come so soon. The view from my balcony, of the CN tower, of the crowd of skyacrappers and dazzling lights, is spectacular. I feel excited, and also breathless. 

I am a home owner now. First time buyer and home owner.

There isn't much in terms of furniture. I'm just here to collect the keys and haven't moved in officially yet. That day will come later in the year. Today, a friend helped me take some essentials to just set up. And we drove the six or so hours from Montreal to Toronto. I slept a bit in the car  , had to as I only slept two hours the night before trying to finish off a deadline. The weather was hot and sunny, and everything went so smoothly. The lawyer called at around 230pm and said the deal finally closed and that I could pick up my keys. I did, along with a bunch of papers.

And then I went to pick up the foldable mattress, the one I used to sleep on whenever I stayed with mum, 

the one that has so many memories of those tumultulous times when she was doing treatment... I'm sleeping on the same mattress tonight, the first night in my new condo.

I say quietly admiring the city and the empty apartment. What will it look like in the future? I have some renovation work planned, I have furniture and appliances to buy. I know what I want...

And all I can think, as happy as I am, is how much I wish mum and dad were here to see me in this condo, how much I wish they could be here right now and stay just one night and experience this special first night with me...

I wrote to my uncle and sent him some pictures. I told him how excited I am, yet also how grateful I am that because of mum and dad's sacrifices and hard work, I have all this and can live with relatively little worry now and can live so comfortably..

New condo... Here is to a bright new beginning and farewell to the past. 

Dream... death of my cat

I went out and came home late last night (upset, as the friend I was supposed to share a taxi with ditched me and went home with another after I'd been waiting for him for over an hour...), so I decided to take an afternoon nap.

Just as I was getting into bed, my two cats for some reason started to fight fiercely on the arm chair. It was horrible! I've never seen them like that before, biting, scratching, screaming, refusing to let go of one another. I shouted at them, and ran toward them to break them up, chasing after each cat and hit them on their backs so they know it's wrong. But they continued to chase after one another and bite one another. I had to pull them apart and separate them... what a fierce fight, like nothing I have ever seen.

I napped and dreamt... I saw the two cats wounded and hurt, there were big bloody bruises on both cats, and their fur was matted with dried blood. They looked sorry, and were whimpering. I picked up my female cat, the little one I've had for over six years now, and she lay like a baby in my arms. She closed her eyes, and stopped moving...

I was so distraught and couldn't stop crying. I howled and frantically, in the dream, tried to shake her to 'shake' her awake. But she died there and then in my arms.

I woke up, and felt such pain of loss and pain of losing someone so dear I have not felt since losing mum. I had tears in the corners of my eyes. I couldn't bear it and felt suffocated...

What intense dream...

Cancer, cancer all around...

The other day, a friend I have not met for some time and I were talking, and we recounted some of the things that have happened over the past few years. It has been a decade since we first met, and how much has happened in both our lives, and how we have been there to support one another through difficult and memorable times.

She was there when I got the phone call from my mother, who sounded so distraught and asked me to go home. Dad was in intensive care, and I rushed home. I remember just before I left and said goodbye to her, we stood by the tramtracks in The Hague. She shed tears in a show of compassion, and we hugged so tightly. I returned home and dad passed a day later.

Little did I know that would be the start of the "cancer era"-- a period lasting now over 8 years in which I have been so affected by people around and in my life who have been afflicted with cancer. My own mother, who struggled till three years ago... and two of my relatives, close friends, the mother of a friend, more recently the mother of another close friend...

"It seems like you have been given a gift,"my friend told me. Gift in the sense I am able to cope with cancer and all that it brings. It affects me deeply, but I am somehow able to stand still and strong and offer support and care to so many around me. (more recently, I detoured on my travels to visit the mother of a friend and that seemed to give her much comfort and support...). Of course, in all of this, I am but a bystander. Yet, in experiencing cancer from a distance , I have gained skills and know a lot more about side effects, getting better and stronger, and most of all am able to offer that emotional support that others do not necessarily have. That is the gift. The gift of compassion, of "suffering with" (Mitleid /  medeleven) that you must experience in order to offer. It is extremely powerful, and in a way, I am blessed with it.

As I was speaking to the lawyer who is involved in closing the condo purchase, somehow the conversation drifted to the topic of cancer. She sounded tired, and looked so exhausted and frail, and she reveiled her father has been battling cancer for over 8 years. It is getting worse... cancerous sores on the skin, on the arms, and they have been in and out of hospital so often that she just feels physically sick hearing that word "hospital". We spoke, and she lamented how she is haunted by all this and has trouble sleeping, how she is afraid of losing the father for they are so close, inseparable.
She spoke of how she has felt distant toward friends and people who have no idea, absolutely no idea, how it is to deal with illness and death. 





I listened and emphathised. Sometimes all you need to do is listen. And as you are listening, you feel the goosebumps and that warmth deep inside because you know exactly how that feels... maybe not exactly because feelings are so personal and so unqiue, but you know you have a much better understanding than others and that in those feel moments, the suffering, pain and desperatation of another fellow human being is being echoed and reflected back. It is the universe's way of connecting people who are like-minded and bringing them together to make them collectively stronger.

At the end of the conversation, I gave her a long, big hug. It may have seemed inappropriate for it was our first encounter and we had never met before (only spoken on the phone) . But it was most appropriate. It was more powerful and meaningful than words could ever express or say.