Call from brother

The last time brother and I spoke was two weeks ago, when I called him on new year's eve from some obscure location. It only struck me when I looked at the date that two weeks have  already gone by, and I realise again what a waste of time and my life to be so unproductive and so down...

The beginning of the conversation was about (family) business, which I just dread talking about, even though it must be dealt with. What to do with my mum's house, what to do with her belongings (chuck them or donate them...), and so on. He wants me to be available online in the coming period so he can skype with me and show me things to decide what to do with every single item in mum's house. It will be a very tough process, especially from afar...

It depresses me even more to think of all these things, especially knowing that for the first time in five years, I cannot be there for the lunar new year celebrations. When my brother mentioned what he plans to do to commemorate my parents on this special occasion (specifically for my dad, the anniversary of whose passing falls on lunar new year's eve...), I just cried. When he mentioned that he will not be spending new year's at home, but instead will go to stay with his mother in-law, I cried even more... Cried quietly of course. Thank goodness the office door was closed.

Just the image of my mum's home being empty for the first time ever is heart-wrenching. To think, only last year we were all together. Mum was still there, though sickly and weak, but we were together. We shared a meal, even though she ate very little. Mum, brother, his wife, my nephew, and I, all of us together. I could still hold her hand then, I could lie next to her and fall asleep imagining I'm a baby next to his mother. That's all in the past now... no more, no more... Momentarily, the past and all those beautiful memories saddened me.

"Are you alright? How are you doing nowadays?" he asked I think he could hear from the sound of my voice that I am really deflated and unmotivated (I imagine anyone can...). In a rare moment of bonding and care, I felt he was genuinely concerned, perhaps more so because when I visited three weeks ago I told him I have been terribly lonely and often sad these few months since mum left-- a feeling that intensified only after my return to Canada and as I began to pick up my life. I told him then about how lost I feel, so uncertain I am where to start and what to do with myself.

On the phone today, he encouraged me, told me to do things to distract myself and feel less lonely. "You just have to go on... what else can you do?"

Yes, go on, swallow the unpleasant feelings and debilitating emotions that leave your mind and soul so weak and tired, and you must try not let the loneliness and feelings of loss get to you and affect you. Or at least try not let it all affect you too much.

Coming from my brother, it was rare, and heart warming.

Disturbance

Finally managed to fall asleep, and the phone rang, very close to midnight. I thought it was something very important, the hospital calling or something. Anxiously I scrambled to pick up the phone quickly, though I was very tired.  It was only my ex. Calling to ask how I'm doing. At that hour I didn't want to say much. I don't  want to say much to him nowadays. I know he cares a lot, and he probably stalks this blog everyday for whatever news he can get. He knows exactly how I'm doing, so I'm not sure why he still wants to call and talk.   I just don't want to talk to him about any of the intimate details of my life or mum's illness  any more, because he'll just break down and cry like so many times before. I don't need tears at this moment, and he doesn't need it either. He made that so clear to me.  I just don't want to talk to him and spoil the "happiness" he's managed to find.  I clearly remember what he said to me over and over again, and again just before my departure. It'll take time for me to get over that and to be able to speak to him normally again. Till then I really have nothing to say. I asked him how's doing. He said he was doing well, he was at work. "Good," I said.  "Take care," I said before I hung up the phone. My sleep disturbed...

張震嶽-愛我別走
 [If you] Love me don't go


 (translation mine)

When I come to this moment it is the same,
The loneliness at night causes one to be sad,
I do not dare to think too much, because I am by myself.


The light of the moon facing me pulls the shadow of my body longer,
Aimlessly walking on the cold, cold street,
I have no news of you, because I am thinking of you.

[If you] love me don't go,
If you say "You don't love me"
[I] don't want to hear you really say it out loud,
Give a little more warmth and tenderness.

Caring

I sat in the house and quietly meditated. The phone rang, and it was the monk in the  mountains. I have not contacted him for over three weeks since I last saw him. In a way because I have nothing new to say, and I hate to call up and just complain about the situation here and how unbearably frustrated and helpless I feel. So I have been avoiding calling him, and also avoiding contact with people. I know it's not healthy, but it's my way of coping...

Though I have not spoken to the monk, I did send him a package in the post. It was a hand written card together with some pictures of flowers and beautiful scenery. The last time I saw him, he looked like he desperately needed cheering up. So I sent him the pictures in the hope of inspiring him, of urging him to look on the brighter side of life.

He called and asked how I was doing. "No news is good news..." Literally. I described how the past few weeks have been. Treatments, hospital visits, vomiting, seeing mum get weaker and thinner by the day, the difficulty of getting mum to eat, the frustration of being and feeling so hopeless and helpless...
I admitted to the monk how frustrated I get, how angry at times I feel. It's not directed at mum, though it comes out towards mum, and I know it is not good for her. "It's normal," he said. He knows, because he went through that with his disciple, who was in and out of hospital for two year for treatment before the cancer took him away. I guess after a while, after taking care of someone who does not seem to get better, you get too close. You start to feel like a failure, and you blame yourself, and (wrongly so) the patient for not getting better. It is not healthy, I know... But it does happen, and I do need to keep that in mind. Not as a justification to get upset and frustrated and lose my patience quickly. But as a reminder that I am just human, and I too have limits, like any other human being.

"You are so thoughtful, even when you have your head full of things there, you sent me the package," the monk said. I don't know why I was moved to tears almost immediately. And I replied from my heart. "You are one of the people who matter in my life..."

Without blowing my own horn, it is true that I am so caring in many ways. Even in the face of difficulties, even when feeling dejected and so hopeless, I have not stopped giving hope to others, and I have not stopped showing people who matter most to me that I care about them, that I think of them. I wrote to my uncle, who is very ill and close to death... I wrote to encourage a dear friend in Belgium, who having faced the passing of her dear mother is in the final stages of her doctoral degree... I wrote to the monk, in the hope of making him feel better... And I even wrote to my ex, sending him pictures and little notes in the hope that he may be comforted and have the feeling that despite the lack of communication from my part, I am still thinking of him, and that I still care about his wellbeing and happiness.

Again, without sounding full of myself, I wonder what it would be like to meet "me", or someone like me, who rarely stops thinking about others and how they are doing... I really need one such person in my life, who can encourage me, support me and carry me through whatever I am facing.

And for the time being, until I meet this someone like me, I have me.

Phone calls

Something is wrong. Before, mum sounded energetic on the phone, but nowadays she sounds just tired and down. It's heavy to deal with in the morning, first thing as soon as I wake up in the morning to be talking to someone who sounds so tired and unwell. Why do I call at that time? Why do I put myself through heavy conversations that more or less set the "tone" of my day...? Because I feel responsible... 
Sometimes, after speaking to her, I feel so exhausted, and I just close my eyes and go back to sleep... Because that seems to be the easiest way to blink out the heaviness, to let the aroused feelings of anguish and frustrations settle.

Today, she sounded even worse as her voice sounded very coarse. She said it was because she took some herbal medicine, which is quite concentrated, and within an hour or so of taking this medicine, she is not supposed to drink any water. But even so, hearing her voice like that wasn't reassuring, especially knowing from my uncle and aunt that mum has become visibly frailer compared to before.

I tried to cheer her up, and talk about the exciting ballet I went to see last night with friends. But mum just was tired and wanted to go to bed. My excitement was dampened, and my attempt to distract her from brooding thoughts of painkillers, pains and lethargy failed.

These days I search and search so hard to find something to cheer her up, but I cannot think of much. I myself am in need of cheering up... I myself need someone to make me laugh, make me smile...

A few more days and the gift package my friend and I made should arrive. Hopefully that will bring her renewed feelings of freshness and joy, hopefully the gifts will touch her and warm her during these cold, cold and dark Winter days...

Cold

Mum may have been found, but noticeably she sounds more frail and weaker. On the phone today she told me again that she feels personally the treatment does not seem to be working any more. "So many treatments, and I'm getting weaker and weaker..." Is there an end in sight? How much longer? How much more?

The tiredness, I hear it in her voice, I hear it in the way she talks about how her days, which mainly  consist of staying at home, watching TV and surfing the net. Even just reading takes a lot of energy, and she feels like she is losing her eyesight, and straining hard to see... When she went "missing", I called my aunt, and she said mum has really lost a lot of weight, and that she will try to spend as much time with mum as possible to make sure mum eats properly. "Because when she is alone she doesn't eat well enough..."

Mum said her feet and hands are really cold, and that another cold front is fast approaching. The other day, my ex and I were at this exposition of arts and crafts made by local artists and craftspeople, and he insisted on buying something warm for mum to wear. He actually proposed to buy slippers decked with lambs wool, but I said that it would be too warm and that she would never wear it. I said that in a way also so my friend would not have to spend so much money, especially as he has already bought a lot for mum. And the slippers were close to a hundred dollars a pair...

Funny thing, when I asked what I could send her for the new year, she said perhaps some warm slippers. How wrong I was... So earlier today I rushed to the expo again to buy the slippers, and placed it inside a box containing all sorts of goodies and gifts.

At the bottom of the pile, I included a copy of my thesis. The thesis I finally finished and dedicated to my mum. Inside, I wrote a long message, thanking her (and dad) for all the support and encouragement she has (they have) given me throughout my life. "This thesis is about preventing conflict in outer space and concern for the natural environment," I wrote, "Because these are values that you [my parents] have instilled in me since childhood."

I'm not sure what mum will think when she reads that. But with the completion of the thesis, soon the Japanese daruma doll mum bought in Japan a few years back can have one of his eyes "opened". For the completion of this degree is a life wish of hers, and I have finally been able to accomplish yet another, and make her proud.