2am

Close to 2am. Taiwan time, close to 8am.
Mum is in hospital again for her bi-weekly chemo therapy. It is going well she says, and most likely she can go home tomorrow later afternoon. My auntie is there, sleeping in that narrow couch-bed I used to sleep in, and as I called she was out to buy breakfast. Mum says she still has the appetite to eat, so she wanted this oat meal mix and some fried rice and cereals. “Just like what you bought me when I was in hospital,” she said.

Yes, just as I had bought her back in February because I thought that was the most healthy and nutricious that I could bring her while she lies confined in that hospital bed for those days.

“Have the doctors come yet?” I asked. Because they usually come check up on the patients a little after eight. Not yet, but they will come, mum reassured me. And today she will find out whether after all these treatments the cancer index has diminished. In other words, whether all those grueling and tiredsome days spent at the hospital, whether all those spasms of nausea and all that exhaustion has all been worth it.

“Take care,” I said, and I thought of her face, her eyes, and that dazzling, natural smile of hers that I had captured in a shot just after the doctor told her she could go home again. How I wish I could see her so happy, see her be so healthy. How I wish I could see her.