Crying

I told him what would happen when I hang up the phone.
 And it happened. I cried almost immediately, am crying now, and cannot stop....

For the second (or third?) day in a row, my ex called to check up on me. I was just getting home, didn't even have the time to put down my bag when the music in my earphones (these days I always have earphones on, to drown out the thoughts and frightening emptiness...) suddenly stopped and the ringingtone of my phone sounded. We chatted, but as always, most of the conversation was about me... (how selfish I have become indeed...)

The whole day again, I felt oppressive inside, a feeling that has not subsided even after outbursts of tears over the past few days. Oppressive and also having stomach cramps again, a sign that I am feeling very agitated and stressed... Being at the office and having to hide how I am feeling, having to put on a smile and pretend all is well is sickening, is exhausting...

After half an hour or so on the phone, my ex said he was falling asleep and wanted to go sleep. He needed to get up early in the morning, but I felt unease hanging up the phone. How selfish I was wanting to hear his voice on the phone just that little bit longer so that I can  feel lonely that little bit less? What a mess I have become to be trembling on the phone and biting my nails till they are bleeding...

Who am I to take his time? He is doing me a favour, out of good will and concern for my wellbeing in calling me, so how could I hog his time and say crazy, incomprehensible things that will sure cause him worry and probably sleeplessness?

He tried to get me to see the lighter side of things. Today in the mail I got the result of an exam I took back in January  (looking back, I went through similar pangs of anxiety, self-doubt and emotional outbursts...). I passed. I read the letter, and then put it away. My ex told me to smile, to be proud of myself and to congratulate myself that through all adversity, I still passed.

But I felt empty. What did that exam mean? What does anything mean anything anymore?
An exam won't change the world... a pass will not change my world or how I feel inside.
How I feel so empty, lonely, so very lacking in love and warmth inside...

Should I have told him? Told someone who was my everything, told someone who broke my heart and shattered my dreams how lonely I am? Should I have told him that what I most long for these days is to be loved and to love? Perhaps it is completely unfair, completely selfish of me to tell him my innermost emotions.Why him of all people? So he could understand? So I can get to feel some semblance of the care and love he gave me so long ago to make myself feel a little better? I must remind myself again and again to hold back, to resist falling back into his care again, however well intentioned he is... Because I am vulnerable, I cannot stand to be hurt and disappointed again. I have a tendency to trust too easily and to make-believe that someone cares and loves me in the same way that I do him.

But it is painful and so very difficult maintaining all these walls, especially before someone with whom you could let it all down and reveal yourself completely, emotionally and physically completely.

And perhaps this is why, after several weeks of pretending of make-believing that I am getting better, when things take a turn for the worse, I am breaking down so easily... I am longing for company and love again like never before... I am clinging onto whatever semblance of care and compassion I used to know, despite the fact that circumstances have dramatically changed and that someone has already moved on and let me go...

I am still stuck in the past, dreaming and clinging onto the dream I dreamed, clinging onto the comfort  and warmth I opened myself to relish in and enjoy, when so much has happened... when pain and death and the trauma of loss and turbulence of bereavement is spinning me around and around and making me lose control of it all...

Breakdown

I don't know what triggered it. I got home, my sweet little cat followed me around so lovingly, I melted touching her soft fur and looking into her soft innocent eyes...

I picked up two letters. Investments I've made recently with money from my parents. I walked around my house, looked at the unwashed dishes, heard the silence, sat down on the floor. The cat came to sit with me. She rolled on her back and made this cute innocent pose... I cried.

I felt like crying almost the whole day. Something was unleashed in me, and I could not control my tears. I cried and cried. Images came back to haunt me... Images of mum at the hospital, images conjured by this meditation music I played in the hope of sitting down to collect my mind. The same music I played every single night during those final few months when mum had much trouble sleeping.

I have not think about those days, did not conjure those images for a long, long time. Somehow they all came back to me... My mind jumped to the future, to one and a half month from now, to my upcoming trip to Taiwan. I cried even more. The loneliness... The pain, the longing...

I tried to collect my mind. But I could not. All I could feel was sadness, pain, and a sense of abandonment... Who could know how I am feeling?

My ex called almost at the same time I sat on the floor and began sobbing. I did not answer. I did not want to bother him anymore than is necessary. I don't want to , don't need to, fall into that cycle of relying on him and being led to believe that there is something special there. When someone is down, when someone is vulnerable, you tend to see more than what there is, you turn to rely on support and place false hopes on the one who can provide you with comfort and with support. I fell pray to that, I cannot allow myself to fall to that again...

As I sat and cried I saw mum's face, saw her sweet and soft face. The cat eyed me and became so quiet, as if she could see how I am hurting, as if she felt it necessary to stay quiet to match the sad and down mood I am in.

I tried to stop crying, I needed to be strong. Who would like or even want to be with someone who is weak and so fragile?
But in all honesty, I do need someone by my side right now, I do pray and hope someone could hold me and calm me down... I saw faces of my friends, friends I have become so distant from, friends who nowadays find it so awkward to talk to me or approach me because they don't know or don't want to know what it feels like to see death, to talk about or deal with death and loss...

I'm sorry, mum, dad... Sorry I'm breaking down again... I must be stronger, must find my own strength within...

Unstoppable tears

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It's been almost an hour now since I started to tear for no reason. From the moments before the plane was about to land, to landing, disembarking, to getting the bus, to now on the metro home... I don't know why I cannot stop tearing. And I I weren't surrounded by people I'd just burst into tears, howl and howl and burst into tears...

Where does the pain come from? Where does the sadness that draw these tears originate from? Is it in the snow, in the way snow falls so beautifully and elegantly, so touchingly and so full of fragility? Seems like the source of the tears is endless... I cannot stop from crying...

Sudden tears

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The moon is out, almost perfectly round. Yellow, small, hanging high surrounded by all that darkness.

Flying on the way home, suddenly feeling this déjà vu and emptiness deep down inside. Flying... Flying home. Why does the mind connect two completely unrelated moments in life and join them web sadness and that sadness one feels on the verge of crying?

I turned on the seat back tv. It was supposed to be a comedy I watched, but the topic was about loss. A man who lost his wife months ago and still unable and unwilling to fully deal with it all. None of his friends can understand him. They say things like hang on there, it'll be alright, but who is the one who has to deal with the sadness at night? Who is the one who must sleep in an empty bed at night? Who must feel the pain of loss and pain of longing?

Heading home. Just completed an exam, but I feel so empty, feel so meaningless inside. I miss the ones I have lost... I miss them so deeply... I so wish I could have someone to talk to and connect with... I wish I do not have to feel like I'm about to burst out crying every few moments.

The plane rolled. Snow, more snow falling so softly, so gently, so romantically. I could no longer control it. It's like in that movie. Out of nowhere, the tears...

"Please stow your emotions. We are about to land..."

Why am I suddenly crying...? Just crying for no reason in public, on board a plane about to land in the falling snow...

Terrible mistake

I cannot deal with all this from so far away...
I do not have the strength or energy to fight or argue. But do I just let people step over me? Do I just let people take advantage of me and forfeit my rights?

I'm too tired to fight, too tired...

Calling home

The last time I called home, mum was still around to pick up.

The number is so familiar to me. I know it by heart, I use parts of the digits for some of my passwords. It was a number I used to dial, once, twice, sometimes even three times, a day.

And then nothing. There was no more need to call. And once, sometime ago, when out of force of habit and without thinking, I dialed that number. But there was no one to pick up.

I needed to call tonight, because my sister in law is supposed to be there today, and she wanted me to contact her to discuss what to do with mum's possessions. But I guess she was out, because no one picked up the phone... 

Instead, I called one of mum's dearest friends, whose husband (a medium and Toaist priest...) was in charge of organising her funeral. As bizarre as it may sound, I asked how mum is doing...

She knows I've sunk into terrible, terrible depression. She knows somehow that I've been crying a lot (as I am crying now...) from pain and loss. She knows that I am feeling so lost and directionless, and so very lonely. Mum knows.

One can dismiss this all as superstitious rubbish, you can say I am insane to believe the exploits of charlatans,  but think of it this way: imagine mum were still alive today. Who knows me better than any one else in the whole wide world? Who can feel my feelings and share my thoughts better than any one? She may not be here on  this plane of existence, but, somewhere where I cannot see her, somewhere where I cannot hear her, that's where she is now... Perhaps my dreams and the images in my mind are portals to that alternative plane, perhaps the realm of my dreams and imagination is where we can see one another and "communicate", albeit in the language of silence and facial expressions...

 I imagine she is looking at me, watching over me... looking at me as I looked at her all those days and nights by her bedside, watching over her helplessly. Perhaps she is feeling helpless and hurting now as much as I did when she was in pain and suffering from her illness...

"When you need to talk to someone, please call. We are here..." My mum's friend said she misses mum too. "And she was just a dear friend... I cannot imagine how it is for you, she was your ma..." In her voice, I could hear her begin to tear. "She was such a kind person, your mama..."

She was my mother. My dear, dear and brave mother. I had to cover my mouth to muffle the groan of pain and agony from escaping. I had to close my eyes to contain the tears. Quickly I ended the conversation. It had to be quick, because I could not utter another word.

For the next ten minutes, I cried and cried, and cried some more.

Bursting with tears

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One moment you're fine, and the next just bursting out in tears... I am reminded of that movie I watched a few months back, where out of nowhere the daughter in the movie suddenly breaks down and cries over the loss of her remaining parent... Who would have known, I am at that stage now.

Second time today, just sitting and crying. Unable to control the tears, unable to still the pain. Where does it all come from? Where am I going with all this...? I can't keep on breaking down and crying alone at night. I can't...

It began as soon as I was searching through my emails for some information. I came across an email mum sent me, back in September 2008. I just moved to Canada, she was planning to visit me. Her email detailed her itinerary, flying in from Boston Logan to Pierre Trudeau Airport. The plan was to visit me, and then we would fly together to Europe. She ended her email with:

 "I'm going to the community college now for lessons. If there is anything, contact me. Good luck with everything, hope all goes well... Mama 0909"

9 September  2008.   I just began my life here, just had a week or so of school, just found and moved into an apartment, my very first apartment on my own. I moved here not knowing what to expect, and feeling somewhat excited about the unknowns to come, but also reeling from the (then) recent loss of my dad. I was lost, confused, lonely, and longing for someone by my side. Funny, four years on, and the same feelings of loss, longing and loneliness have not much changed. Perhaps they have only intensified now that my mother has also gone.

But four years on, I will no longer get an email or touching message from mum  again. 

It's all coming back to me now

I browsed a few photo albums containing pictures I dared not look at for a while. Did I not dare or did it just not occur to me to do so? Pictures I took at those precious moments, moments that were etched in my mind forever, but which I know will trigger a flood of emotions when I am reminded of them again...

Mum... Mum at the hospital, mum at home, me holding mum's hand, mum looking at me, mum smiling, mum dying, mum covered under the blanket which I took and have kept since that day she passed away... Tears started to form. Last time I cried was perhaps a month or so ago...

Again I am reminded of her kindness, reminded of the warmth only she could give me. Again, I am reminded, my goodness, how much I/ we have gone through these few months... How painful, how difficult, how testing and unsettling... And also how beautiful it all was....


Again I am reminded of the reason why I am going on this trip to a foreign land, to a foreign place in search of peace and closure.

Sudden tears

Just had a nice evening with friends, and wanted to head home early. It's nice to go out and meet up with people, to chat about nonsense and to drink and forget. But really, how much can you forget...?

Sitting in the metro, and browsing though pictures. Happy pictures and memories of times with the ex... Then suddenly a picture of mum, so skinny, deep eye sockets, forlorn and ill-looking, nearing death... She looked straight at the camera (an image I captured on Skype...), straight at me. This was taken at the end of May, when I came back here for a month. I missed her dearly then, worried about her day and night.

She stared the camera, deep into my soul. I remember she kept telling me to stay on till my graduation, to stay on and not worry about her. I cried many nights then, hurting because I was not by her side. Seeing that picture again brought tears to my eyes. How she suffered... How much she went through all these years...

And now she's free... No more pain, no more depending on other people when she needs to go to the washroom or get out of bed... No more steady deterioration of the body and decline of the mind... No more inability to let go, no more feelings, no more hurting. Mum is free now...

So by am I crying? Crying because of the image she once was? Crying because she went through so much, when it is all over and done with now? Crying because I had fun tonight and feel somewhat guilty for having a bit of fun and indulging in a few drinks?

Mum is free now.

But I am not...

Absence

What overcame me? Why am I suddenly crying again? Such sadness again, triggered perhaps by unpacking a bag containing clothes and items I took back from home almost a month ago. Yes, been almost a month and the bag was just there on the floor, untouched. It was as if I was/am afraid to touch it, afraid of what emotions and memories (and tears...) may be drawn from opening it all...

I unpacked the bag. In it was mum's blanket, the one she used till the very last moment... In it was a cat cushion I bought her, which I gave her to use to keep the sores away... She also used it till the very end....

Four years ago, I took the blanket dad used to the very end. Now, I have that of mum. Four years later, dad's blanket is just a blanket I use often, one that is stained on one side with his blood, one that smells more of me than anything else... But the blanket will always be one that is special in my heart, that is so soft and gentle to the touch...

Tonight I also tidied my drawers and sorted through my old clothing. Seeing clothes mum bought me, or clothes I bought with mum was hard. Seeing clothes dad once wore, and which I took with me after he left, hurt more than I imagined. And perhaps with the fresh wound, I found myself wave in and weak again...

I picked up the phone and called the monk in Taiwan. It was the first time I called "home" since I left. I almost cried hearing the voices of home (there were other people at the monastery, all of whom I know...)

"I've been so sad and down..." I said. That is the only way I am and have been able to describe it. Sad. Down. Empty. Hurt. Distracted and confused.

The monk told me to watch those feelings, and reminded again that they will go. All the feelings will come and go. That much is certain. He told me to think of it this way: before I was in Canada and away from mum. Now it's more or less the same. She's away now, and you can think of her still, just not reach her. "Think of her when you want, and she's out there somewhere..."

I struggled hard to contain my years. Struggled so hard not to cry. And often the more you try to do that, the more you end up crying after you let go.

I hung up the phone, and steaks of tears flowed down. I could not help from crying. I still cannot help myself from crying...

The longing, the pain, the emptiness is so immense. So very immense...

Bank statement

I found crumpled yellow piece of paper in my rucksack as I was riding metro. I opened it, and saw mum's name and signature on it. Her signature was faint, but still recognisable. The paper was the receipt from a bank transaction mum and I made, and it was dated 20 March of this year.

Immediately I remembered... The vomiting, mum's weak demeanour, mum's gradual decline and inability to hold a pen, let alone sign her own name. I remember going to the bank with her that day to take care of some affairs. She wanted to repay a debt owed to my uncle, even though he had told her many times not to worry or think too much. But she was afraid that once she enters TW hospital, which at that time was imminent, she may have no chance to repay her debt... The bank statement was dated just says after we were told the cancer spread and was blocking the intestines, therefore preventing her from eating or drinking. Perhaps she knew she would no longer be here. Perhaps she knew that...

Little get together

Had quiet little get together for lunch today with friends. They were very kind and generous, and constantly told me to eat more, and more specifically eat more meat because I look so much thinner than before. But I resisted, and said I'm going to avoid meat (but despite protests from a true vegetarian, fish is alright...) till the 100th day anniversary of mum's passing, which is in less than a month's time.

There was the usual small talk about how life has been, about work and such, and of course inevitably conversation touched on how I am.

How am I? Despite appearances, despite smiles and my laughter, more emotional and teary than usual. "Sad..." I said, "Just sad..."

Sad... I cannot describe that feeling fully.

Just sad.

Sad...

And would I want to describe that feeling to people? Would they really try to understand or perhaps just say something dismissive like "It'll pass... You'll get over it..."? Sometimes it hurts more when you try to describe how you're feeling, and people just look at you and say things like that. Of course I'll get over it, of course it'll all pass. But at this very moment I'm hurting, I'm in pain, I'm in tears... All one needs sometimes is an acknowledgement of that hurt, that pain and those tears.

Sad... A kind of sadness that is not buoyed by the fact that I know I am so fortunate to have my health, to have all I need in life (and more...), and on top of it all, I have a nice job. And I have great friends who make me feel lucky and supported.

But I am sad because I'm missing that personal warmth and intimacy which I have gotten used to and at times taken for granted... Sad because I am not sure when or whether I will ever find that same level of warmth and intimacy ever again... The sadness is more pronounced at night when I curl up in bed. The sadness is more frightening and painful when I dream and see mum appear before me.

Yes, it'll all pass. Yes, my tears will dry, my smiles and laughters will be more genuine and true... But right now, I am sad. Just so sad.

Guilt

Dream: father and mother

All I can remember is me crying with such force and vigour. I saw myself sitting in a room by myself. It was some kind of classroom, and people were coming and going. I remember it was some kind of special occassion, like father's day or mother's day, or some kind of family holiday. Everyone had their parents with them. I was all alone by myself. All alone, and  just sitting there.

Seeing all these people with their parents reminded me of how parentless and 'abandoned' I really am. I buried my face in my arms and began to howl and sob. Nobody came to comfort me. I just sat there and cried, and the crying was so real that when I woke up, I instinctively went to wipe my eyes (but there were no tears).

Nightmare

I collapsed on the floor and slept for a good hour or so after getting home from a whole day of errands. Paperwork and dealing with banks and bureaucracy is for some reason so draining...

Repeatedly, I had to write mum's name, and hand over copies of mum's death certificate. Repeatedly, I have to say she "passed on", "left", "moved on", "is no longer around". And it feels heavy every single time I say it. It feels like a reminder, just in case I did not fully realise what happened two weeks ago.

In my dream, mum and dad appeared. Perhaps it is related to the fact that we were trying to get documentation to prove that indeed they are our parents, and that they are both indeed deceased. They looked well, and were smiling. I think the scene was our old home, the place where I lived for two, three years before moving abroad at the age of seven or so. They were wearing clothes I could immediately associate with them.

Seeing them was enough to make me drown in sorrow and suddenly cry. Seeing them both in my dream was a powerful and painful reminder of what I have lost, and will never have again...

That is loss. True loss of the most painful and terrifying kind...

Restlessness

Brother was crying on the phone. "It is such a difficult topic to bring up..." he said amid tears. I told him calmly I understand. How do you tell someone you want to up the dosage of the morphine, knowing very well that it may hasten the coming of passing? It is not that we want to kill her quicker. We just want to make her feel more comfortable and feel at ease, and go in a calm and peaceful way. I know mum would want the same, for she is suffering, in pain, in agony and trapped in a body that is dying ever so slowly. Must the suffering be unnecessarily prolonged, and for how much longer?

I told my brother I'll speak to mum about it. Mum may be dazed and confused, somehow when I ask her something in Taiwanese she seems to hear me and she does respond.

The doctor came by today and said mum may never leave the hospice ward. I knew this somehow already. I had a feeling. And I saw it in my dreams. The doctor gave us an excerpt from a book loosely translated as "Life's compulsory 10 lessons in life and death". In it, the chapter talks about what a person goes through mentally and physically a few weeks, few days and few hours before death. Within a few weeks, a "spiritual death" occurs, when the person becomes so tired and the body because exhausted. The inability to walk and the inability to go the washroom independently, and in many cases incontinence, will often cause the patient to question the meaning of life.

Within a few days of dying, the patient sleeps more and more, and in those brief waking moments the patient feels a lot of physical pain. Morphine is often used to reduce the pain at this stage, and partly because of the effects of the drug, but also partly because the body is getting ever weaker, the patient has more difficulty expressing herself, and is easily confused and forgetful. There may even be hallucinations, and nonsensical talking. This is where mum is now, I believe.

The doctor said she's going to go from six-hourly injections of morphine to a steady drip into her body. This way mum will feel more comfortable, and will be less susceptible to pain and discomfort, which can wake her up and disturb her sleep. Her body is "changing", as the nurses and doctor like to call it and I figured after so many times of hearing it, the word is just an euphemism for dying. As it "changes", the body rests more and more. Waking up every so often from pain or discomfort is a painful struggle for mum, for she has to expend what very little reserves she has left to fight the pain. A continuous flow of morphine will keep her continuously at ease.

The doctor recommended a dosage of 15ml per twenty-four hours. And an hour or so after the new regime went into effect, I could see mum become very agitated and restless, more so than ever before. Something was bothering her, but nobody could figure out what. Perhaps the dosage is not strong enough. Later the nurse revealed to me that specifically in mum's case, there are increase signs of internal bleeding that are related to progression of mum's cancer. This most likely is causing mum even greater discomfort and pain.

Calmly, I sat down next to mum. "Mama, brother and I discussed and we would like to increase your dosage..." I said to her. I held her hand as I said those words. Held her hand so that she feels the real intentions behind what I'm saying to her, so that she can feel and know that what I am proposing is out of our genuine concern for her wellbeing. "it's not that we want to make you go quicker, but we want you to be more comfortable. You've struggled long enough..."

Mum looked at me in the eyes. From the look I could tell she understood. From the look she agreed. Her nod and a very weak "Ok" confirmed it. Her agreement lifted a heavy burden off of my shoulders. I am her son, her own blood, and never did I imagine there would be a moment when faced with having to decide, or at least influence, my own mother's final moments...

I held her hand even tighter. "Let go, mama. Let go of this body, and let things take it's natural course..." These words were so similar to what I said to dad the moments before he left this world. The memory of that scene, four years ago, at this very hospital, merely a few storeys below where mum and I are now, made sadness swell up deep down. "This body is not ours... Relax. Let go of anything in your mind, let go of this body. Let go..."

Whatever happens in the next days or so, I will be by her side. And I will take her by the hand.

Nap

Feel so much like (excuse the language...) death. I came home to take a nap, and it turned into a three hour sleep beset by dreams and images.

There were many scenes. In one, I saw lying in bed very fearfully and telling me that she saw dog- and cat-headed human beings come to get her. These persons with animal heads are in local mythology guardians of the underworld. On occasion, on the brink of death, the one who is about to leave this world can see these creatures. Are they real or imaginary, who knows. But in the dream, mum saw them...

The nurse told me once when the patient sees something frightening, to reassure the patient that those things are mere illusions, and that we are by her side. So in the dream that is what we (brother and I) did...

Even so, in the dream I felt such uncontrollably tears and sadness I have not yet felt before... I saw myself crying, crying so terribly heavily by mum's side; something I had tried and tried to avoid till now.

What is wrong with me that I have been beset by dreams these couple of days...?

Something is going to happen soon. I can sense it.

Dream

What a disturbing dream... Was with my ex, and we were in such a rush to get to a restaurant. We made it in the brink of time...

We were eating, and I had my ex's favourite bear with me. He gave me the bear to take with me on my last few trips back here, and the bear has accompanied mum and I on several trips together. The bear has such a beautiful and permeant smile on his face...

My ex was talking about something, j forget what, but it was related to mum and one of our travels. Then I saw the bear suddenly sob and cry. The bear was no longer smiling, but crying uncontrollably...

Dream

There was so much shouting, back and forth, back and forth. Angry shouting between my ex and I. There was so much anger, and much of the argument centred on getting back together, on whether we have a chance still. He launched a lot of criticisms at me, accusing me of this and that in the past. It was so dramatic, so harsh, so painful to listen to, and I just wanted to walk away... I thought to myself how did we get to this? Didn't we used to be so good, so kind and gentle to one another...? Where did all this anger and harshness come from?

Suddenly the phone rang. It was mum.

She sounded so terribly weak, and she said she was not coming to visit as planned. She went home to Taipei.

I broke down crying and howling...

Tears

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We hugged in the middle of the street. She cried, and I cried. I alway thought her as a strong girl, an strong outgoing and confident girl, but she was shedding tears. For me, because of me. I cried more...

All the years we've known one another, she has been supportive in many ways. She always manages to bring a smile to my face, her parents were such darlings to me when I visited them. And here she was crying with me as we said goodbye.

"You are so inspirational. You're so strong..." she said, "You are a good son, and it is reflective of your mother."
Her words made me cry more.

I hugged her, kissed her, and she kissed me. There is so much I wanted to say to her, and to her parents, for they have been so supportive ad encouraging. I did not have the words, only deep, deep gratitude.

"I look forward to visiting you and your parents again when this is over..." I said. It is another thing I want to do to help me recover, to help me find myself and be strong again after everything is all over. I know I need it. I know I need friends and trips and things to look forward to when things come to a close.

She told me again I am always welcome, and that I need not hesitate to call or write whenever. I hugged her again. The hugs said so much with so little. Love, compassion, understanding, "Mitleid" (German for "suffering with" someone, or loosely translated as sympathy/empathy), "medeleven" (Dutch word for "living with" someone, again a term for which there is no english equivalent...).

"Thank you... Thank you for so much..." I said.

"Shush! We are all here for you..."

And that means so much to me.
That means the world to me, and means that there is a life after death...