Call to the bar

250113.1123

The hall began to fill with family and friends of hundred or so lawyers-to-be. The atmosphere was joyous, and I sat next to a friend and my ex's parents, who had ventured all the way from Europe, braving the bitter cold, to be present at their son's call to the bar ceremony.

I searched the mezzanine below us for my ex, and found him. I smiled when I saw the back of his head, even though he did not see me. Smiled at the thought he finally made it, pulled through all those late nights of studying and long hard days at work as a law student... And all those around him, everyone shares a similar story, shares the ambition of one day being able to officially call themselves "solicitor" or "barrister". Getting up at 430 in the morning, having slept only four hours or so max, was worth this moment. Bringing a smile and making little surprises is what I seem to do well, and I managed to pull another off.

The ceremony slept began as the organ played a moving classical piece. My friend's mum teared. She said she felt very emotional, especially as it was the anniversary of her own mother's passing. I wanted to do something, perhaps put my hand on her shoulder, but felt perhaps it was a bit too much. But having recently lost someone dear, I felt I should have said or done more to show that "you're not alone". All I could offer her was my smile of sympathy, and I hope she saw in my eyes what I wanted say.

One by one, names were called out and one by one all went on stage. People from all backgrounds, of all ages. Most inspiring was a guy in a wheelchair, who from a distance looked like he had some kind of motorneurone disorder. Yet he did it, he studied hard, he went through ten grueling months of articling, and he deserved so much to go on that stage and claim his certificates. He deserved so much the loud and long rounds of applause from across the hall. If he could do it, why can't I? Why can't I...?

I sat there and watched and waited for my friend to go on stage. I clapped louder an more vehemently than before, smile and hoped he would look our way, look to see how we all came and how we are so proud of him. Later I hugged him and congratulated him several times, reminded him of how fortunate he is to be surrounded by loved ones.

Without wanting to steal the show, as I sat there, I felt the reasons why it was difficult for me, and why it took courage to attend this ceremony, even though I wanted so much to bring a smile to my friend's face and make it a memorable event.

It's the familiarity of it all. Last time I sat in such an auditorium and on such an occasion was my own graduation, only eight months or so ago. And how heavy my heart was, how terribly, terribly sad my face and composure looked on pictures I never shared with any one. And today, here I was, sitting there, though for someone else, yet trying hard to suppress the tears, trying hard not to think of that day (if it ever comes, when I complete my bar...) when I am sitting there in the crowd waiting to be called to the bar. Where would mum and dad be? Who would come attend and cheer me on? Who would come hug me, kiss me, bring me flowers and remind me of what I have just accomplished and what a feat it has all been? Oh, how my ached even though a part of me tried to be strong and tried hard to maintain a smile for others to see.

I may have been dressed elegantly, I may have looked confident and smiley, but deep down inside I cracking up.

Heading home...

250113.2145

On the plane alone heading back to Montreal. The little surprise I planned was a success, and I think I brought a few smiles to my ex's face. But why do I feel so empty now? Why do I dread to go home and why does a part of me hope that something will happen to the plane...?

This is my problem. I cannot deal with loneliness, I cannot stand it much, even though most of the time I am alone. Just before leaving, I had a sort of nervous breakdown, so close to tears and I was shaking. I nearly threw up my food. A beautiful day was ending, a lovely time spent with the ex is ending. And I need to go home, on my own.

He said he's lonely too. Maybe, and he must know himself. But I do wonder how lonely one can really be when you have a partner, when you have the affection, phone calls and laughters you can have with a partner? How lonely can you be when your parents travel thousands of kilometers away to be with you on a special special occasion? How lonely can you be when your best friend/ex lover puts aside all his conflicted feelings and the difficulties of facing the beautiful love and bond of family life he craves for so much just to show up for a day to make you happy? I cannot really understand, just as he cannot fully understand what I feel when I say I've lost all that is dear to me and lost the purpose and focus of my own life. Perhaps this is where we are diverging from one another's paths: we do not seem to understand each other, do not seem any more to be able to give each other that natural feeling of joy and pleasant company we used to share and treasure so much.

He told me again he loves me and cannot stop caring about me or thinking about me. He said I've always managed to fascinate him, attract him by the "karma" (kindness) I show and by the little touching things that I do. But I feel I've lost that touch, that warmth, that passion and motivation in life to want to make a difference, to want to work towards something beautiful and meaningful. What happened? Why have I lost touch with my inner self and the me that before was so kind and so easily moved and touched?

Rightly or wrongly, I've always been geared toward making people around me happy. Perhaps my happiness depends (dangerously!) on the happiness of those around me and dearest to me. Mum formed a core of my life, my best friend/ex formed another fundamental core that touched my life like never see before. And now that both these people have become out of my life, I feel such imbalance and very distorted. when I lose people who matter most, whether through death or because they've moved on in life, I'm left without a core, without direction. It's not healthy, I know, but I am sort of useless on my own without someone to project my love and affections to. I have a cat, yes, but there's only so much I can give a cat, and only so much she can give me...

I need to find a purpose, find meaning in life, find myself and be comfortable with myself. I need to be able to fully be "me" and not allow Myself be so troubled by thoughts of doubt, thoughts of envy, dreams of the future and thoughts I self-criticism. Cry if I must, scream if I please, close my eyes and swallow the pain and hurt if I need to, but in the end I need to be strong, need to find a way to survive, and move on without lingering, without looking back.

I need to love myself, love myself so much more... Because now the only person who can offer me that fully and unconditionally is me. No one else.

Love myself, hold myself, tell myself I will be alright, tell myself I am loved and I am deserving and worthy of love... And one day, I will really be loved, I will find love, and I will love again.

Calling brother

I had trouble keeping my eyes dry. Brother noticed I shared some inspirational articles on Facebook about griefing and dealing with loss. He asked what was wrong.

I can not really describe it. Just heaviness, just sadness, just longing for love I'm not really getting (or perhaps not getting from the way I want to...). I know it's all a mental state of mind, and that I am the one in control of my emotions and feelings. But still it's hard to move on when I go home and face the house alone. It's hard to keep the thoughts and creeping images at bay...

"Don't think too much. Do things to distract yourself..." Brother advised me. It was brief how he consoled me. He admitted to me he still feels loss and longing too.

Then he quickly moved onto his family, and for a good ten minutes told me about his plans to buy a bigger house in the future. He's been looking already. Six bedrooms, a large garden and close to my nephew's future school.

There is the difference perhaps. He goes home and has a wife and kid to return to (not to mention the cat...) At a moment as this, perhaps human intimacy and physical contact is what one needs most of all. I need it to affirm that I am not dead, that I still am alive and capable of giving warmth and affection. I need human contact and intimacy to feel safe and temporarily fulfill a deep void inside. This is something perhaps friends cannot understand. The longing for intimacy and love, for a meaningful and lasting relationship is stronger than ever before. This is not to say that I do not appreciate the encouragements and advice of friends who do care, but really having a closeness with one person in particular, with someone I do not feel conflicted in talking to, with someone who will make me feel like I really matter and not just a "case" to deal with, is so important.

Brother told me again to try not think too much, to focus attention and energies else where. I try. I will try harder. I smiled at him, glad to see he's doing alright. Glad to hear that my nephew has grown much bigger and taller, and that he got a new toy-- a multistory carpark. I smiled at seeing my old cat run across the living room where I spent many nights on my own, sometimes even sleeping on the floor because I just felt like it... I was sixteen, seventeen then. I am tenets eight now.

I will be strong and stronger one day. One day I will heal, and i will be beautiful. Beautiful again.

Fortune

25082012.1511

"In coming days, you will cause and lead an upheaval. Self-confidence will allow your performance to be even more eye catching."

Letter from the ex

My ex wrote to me finally today, several days after I wrote him telling him how confused I am about what he feels toward me and what he would like from me. I wrote him at times when I am sitting next to mum, I so wish I could tell her not to worry about me, because there is someone who will care for me, who will love me no matter what happens. But is that someone my ex? How can I tell mum something I don't even know is true?

He wrote back, saying he has always care, he still cares, and he cannot care any less. He said how these few months apart made him realise so much, and how lost he was without me, his "best friend, rock and confidante", and how he longed for me so. When I was back in Canada last month, though there were feelings of anger and disappointment because I shut him out during perhaps the most challenging period of his life, as soon as he saw me, hugged me, and smelled me, he realised he never escaped my charm....

It is touching, so very beautiful and touching to receive an email like that. But it is also frightening too... Why does he feel so strongly toward me? What have I do to make him feel this way about me? And how does his feelings compare to feelings he has for someone else? Why me? Why after all the disappointments and arguments, the silent treatments and ignoring his calls, does he still feel this way toward me? How sincere is he really, and can he show me how much he really cares and wants to be with me?

Maybe I shouldn't be asking questions. Maybe I should just be glad that I am loved, and that there is someone who cares so much about me. But I need someone who will do more than tell me he loves me and wants to be with me... I need and want someone who will be there for me, who will support me and carry me through the most difficult of times. Is he this someone? Can I tell my mum I have such a someone in my life, and that she can go in peace?

My ex's email has two installments, and there is another one coming. I am not sure what else he will write, or what else he feels he should let me know. Maybe he's just telling me all these things in the first installment, and will use the second installment to tell me all the reasons why he is not able to be with or cannot be with me now. Yes, there is a deep seated pessimist within me, but in any case, I shouldn't get my hopes too high yet...

Restless night

Had such a restless night full of dreams which woke up me several times. Dreams of my ex, dreams of mum... Everytime I open my eyes, I turn my head and can just about see her lie there on her bed. I wonder what she is thinking, how she is feeling, and whether she is in a lot of pain...

Just before sleep last night, I wrote an email to my ex. He's been writing to me the last three days, short but encouraging emails. The way we said goodbye made it very difficult to know how to contact him. He said he would "deal with things". He even told a mutual friend that things would change "in the next twelve hours" (from the moment he went off to see his boyfriend with the intention of breaking up...). I left the country, and he did not even call to say goodbye, and instead just sent me a short text message to wish me a safe journey.

So I'm left unsure what his status is now, and am very uncomfortable contacting him. Why? Because he could have just been pretending and putting up a show till I leave. As far as I know, he could tell me he wants to deal with things, but instead doesn't because I'd be gone anyways...

My unease in contacting him comes from the fact that he's told me before I am manipulative and even hinted at the fact I use my mother's situation to influence his feelings toward me. I wrote to him because I wanted to let him know the conversation mum and I had about him the other day, when i told her, in an attempt to reassure her, that my ex cares a lot about me, and that is a possibility of a future between us.

And I asked him in my email something I've been meaning to ask him, because I see it and dream about it: to be there when I bid a final farewell to mum...

I don't know why, but I only feel comfortable for him to be there when he is no longer attached to anyone. I would like him to be there, because I imagine I would need someone to hold and to be with me. I would need someone I can be comfortable with and not have any reservations confiding in. And I cannot do that with just any person... I can do that with him, but only really when he is free from obligations to another. Otherwise, I'd feel like I'm hogging someone else's man and feel the need to hold back. And I feel when that day comes, I cannot afford to hold back my emotions and feelings...

Is it selfish of me to want my ex to be there by my side on perhaps the most challenging day of my life in a long time to come? Is it selfish to only want him to be there if he is free from engagements of a previous relationship? Is it selfish to want him all to myself? I just feel I need that, I deserve that, and I need that more than ever now that I am about to lose mum...

Job offer

I am very fortunate. Barely have I graduated and I got a job offer. It's not a full time position, but it suits me well as my life is in flux right now and I have difficulty committing to something that requires me to be around constantly.

The offer is to take over the position of editor of the prestigious journal that my research institute publishes. it'll be a challenge running the logistics of reviewing and editing a publication, but it is a much respected position that wil definitely give me a footing in the academic world.

They proposed the position to me two weeks ago, and I was thrilled. Even so, I was doubting my capabilities because it seems to be such an academic endeavour and I'm not really sure I've got what it takes. But my colleagues and the incumbent editor assured me I'm more qualified than most people, even those who are currently doing a doctorate degree. More qualified and more reliable too. I was touched and surprised by the confidence they have in me. There are details to be finalised, and subject to final approval by director if the institute, but it should be no problem.

I told mum, and she was happy for me. It is important to let her know that I have something waiting for me and that she does not have to worry much. Because she really doesn't. I have been always so fortunate wherever I do, and wherever I go. And this new job offer confirms that.

Another chance

After a series of exchanges by text message, I think both my ex and I calmed down. Nothing can be resolved by texting, and I believe both of us are tired of letting things just drag on unresolved... Perhaps he more than anyone else.

Last night I spoke to a friend whose opinion I've always respected greatly. "You guys have to sit down face to face..." Whatever the resolution, it's necessary to just sit and talk things through. Because that way we will know the other side of the story, that way we will (hopefully soon) know what way this lingering impasse will proceed. After all we've gone through, all the years we've known one another, we owe it to ourselves to talk about things.

So I woke up (a bit too late perhaps...) and had an impulsive urge. To see him. To go to Niagara Falls, where we took our first trip together, where we made beautiful memories just sitting there watching the sun go down and listening to the waters fall.

I know I am disappointed several people by doing this, especially the two good friends who sat with me and comforted me that night when I drank and cried. They'll probably think I'm weak and too weak, and that my ex is manipulative and playing with my heart. But they did say at one point too that none of this is over, and that things will just drag on and on... And I don't want things to drag on and on. O want, I need clarity. Either break off things completely or a whole fresh start.

How will this weekend go? How will the drama between my ex and I, who obviously have strong mutual feelings for one another, unfold?

I hope beautifully, as beautifully as when we fell in love with one another that first time we watched the waters fall.

Brooklyn Bridge

If you honestly mean what you say,
If you truly say what you feel,
I'll be on the Brooklyn Bridge at dusk on 19052012.
Perhaps it will be a new dawn?

Night before last night

05052012.0122

Should I be sad? Should I be mourning? Should I face the facts and allow my mood to sink?

Am I lying to myself by being hopeful? Am I fooling the world by not thinking too much about the doctor's words the day mum checked out of hospital?

"It is in the final stages (末期)..." was the only thing the doctor said. He did not know what to say when brother asked for a time. I personally find it somewhat distasteful. As if one could predict when or how or where death, or anything in life, will happen! And what does it matter really? So people could be nicer and do better if someone does not have much longer left? So you could start living more and doing more with your life if you know time is limited?

The doctor was kind to sit down with us for almost half an hour. He drew a picture diagram of mum's inside, and better than before I now can visualise what they did in terms of the surgery and what is causing the jaundice.

I know much of this already, so perhaps that's the reason why I just sat there and let the words wash over me. I felt like I was not in the room, like I was just a bystander, as brother asked the questions and the doctor answered and drew his diagram...

There is a large lump on the duodenum. It is causing food to be trapped in the stomach. They connected a lining of the small intestines to the stomach wall, so that at least some food can leave somewhat naturally down the intestines and be absorbed. The lump is growing larger. It has compressed against the wall of the bile duct, suppressing the flow of bile which normally enters the duodenum. Jaundice is caused when bile, a poisonous substance if not excreted, collects in the body, and it causes the body to turn yellow and causes the liver to slowly lose its functions. Hence mum's continuing tiredness and still yellowish skin tone.

"I discussed with other doctors, and the duodenum is no longer operable." This was contrary to what I was told before, when I was given that glimmer of hope. Hope mixed with anxiety, for back then I was already told it would be a major operation, and I dreaded mum having to face another long stint at the hospital and having to walk on the long road to recovery again... Now, the lump has grown too large, and an operation to remove the duodenum and reconnect the "tubing" in that region ( which involves cutting out a piece of the pancreas, rewiring the biliary tree and readjusting the stomach and intestines even more) is simply too much work and too risky. It's not worth the risk.

"We've done the best we could so your mother can eat. She may still throw up a bit, as some food will still collect in the stomach and not go down the reroute, but at the very least she can eat and drink like before."

As for the bile duct, they installed a tube that is longer and thicker to direct the flow of bile down to the unblocked part of the intestines. For now, it seems to work well, as mum's jaundice level has come down (but still is very high...), but at least the bile is channeled as intended and leaving the body. There is still an open wound and a tube coming out of it, and mum has to have the tube in her for a month or two. The wound has to be cleansed and addressed of every day. Any sign of her skin yellowing more or any sign of fever, she must immediately check into the hospital, for it may be an infection of the wound.

"She can go home and rest and eat. It's important that she eats well and gain back her strength," the doctor reminded us.

Brother is scared, he told me. He's scared of what may happen, and scares of mum's condition worsening. I reassured him in the best way I could. Though, admittedly, I am of course also scared.

"It doesn't matter what will happen in the future, don't think too much about things. They said three years ago mum doesn't have long. Even if something happens tomorrow, or next week, you're doing your best, and you will not be alone. You've got your wife, your kid, and I'll be back too." (momentarily, I must admit, there was a rise in jealousy and sense of longing, for I have none of the important, valuable sources of comfort and support I just mentioned.)

Whatever happens, I am here. I will be here to support you, to support and comfort mum till the very end, I heard myself saying in my head. "You just spend more time with mum, touch her, talk to her, make her feel comfortable and assured. There's nothing more important. There's nothing else we can do but those things."

Brother was silent, but I know he heard me, because I've said the same thing to him several times. And I strongly believe deep down, he also wants to play a role, but he just does not know how or where to start. And I've been also telling mum to give him (and his wife) a chance, not to judge too soon, not to have any preconceptions based on events and unhappiness in the past, but to let them demonstrate what they can do, to let them have their chance at being filial children.

I believe strongly that this is all part of "Operation Eternal Happiness", an effort from all sides to get together and make beautiful memories together to keep, and to keep for life, and to keep even after death. The ways I've seen my brother and sister-in-law bond an interact with mum over the past two days have been very promising. And my nephew's cute little face and multitude of expressions and sweet little bouts of giggles is a wonderful bonus to add to lightening mum's discomforts and adding to her impression that life has been wonderful, and that life continues to be worth all the hardship and pain...

Return to Lake Louise

I've had the great fortune of traveling to many places around the world with mum and collected many a memories of our times together. Perhaps it's ridiculous (or just rare) that someone my age would still even until last year want to travel with his parent. But ever since mum's illness five, six years I've thought of traveling with her as a way to give mum joy and happiness and indulging in her greatest passion (besides the stock market...)

One trip, one moment stands out most, and that is to Lake Louise, Alberta. I was just sitting there and thinking, and suddenly it came to me. I want to return there again after mum is gone. Is it strange? Is it going to be emotional and make me break down? I don't know. But I suddenly had this urge to go there, to relive the memories of paddling on the blue, blue lake again, even though next time it won't be with mum, I know that. I closed my eyes and saw myself back there, saw myself sitting on the shore and not alone. Someone is next to me, holding me, making me smile as I recount fond memories of my time with mum. I can in fact picture his face now...

Is it strange to dream of returning to a place where mum and I made such beautiful memories? Somehow if i just think and dream about it, I find it will be, at least for now, strangely comforting and therapeutic.

Language of the Heavens

"Kong kong kang san Chiang si kang san yi si kong kang ki ki chiang si kang ku...

Kang kiang kong kong ki Ko
Kana Yi kong San chiang si
Kaaaang..."

And on and on and on. I have no idea what the lady is saying, neither does my mum. It sounds like a between Vietnamese and Japanese, Taiwanese and Hakka. But it's none of those. It's supposedly the "Language of the Heavens", with which you can summon deities down to earth and ask for their blessing and protection.

The lady chanting asked mum and I to follow along. "Not with your mouth, but with your heart..." The chanting is lyrical to the ear, sometimes sounds so sad, as she is wailing, but sometimes also so forceful and energising.
Before she starts, she always hands me a large pieces of yellow paper, all filled on one side with unintelligible scribbles and lines in black and red marker pen. Follow with your finger each "character" (or whatever symbol they are...), and "read" it with love, I was told.

For a while I felt like a fool, but cancer, and illness in general, makes fools of us all. When "traditional" arts of western medicine do not seem to work, or work well enough, you seize whatever other options you can. With limitations of course. The chanting and "text" reading can do no harm. It's not as if mum or I are being asked to drink potions made from the blood of a black dog and toad's foot, or to use lotions made from the eyes of crow and baby's urine. It's just chanting, and a kind looking lady gesturing with her hands and fingers and as if communicating with some unseen persona in the room. All mum and I have to do is sit there and listen, and chant along with our hearts.

Believe it or not, mum said before se started going to the daily morning sessions of chanting, she said she felt a lump in her bowels. It's supposed to be the "unseen", a euphemism for so angry spirit or demon which has sought refuge inside mum's body and is causing her stomach to be congested and causing her to vomit so wildly. After attending two days of chanting, the lump was gone. I don't know if I am under their persuasion, as everyday they keep on saying that mum's complexion is getting better and she looks like she has more "qi" (energy in the metaphysical sense) than before, but mum does indeed look somewhat a little better. At least not worse off than before.

The chanting continues and half way through the session I'm always asked to take the pieces of text and burn them. So I burn them, and bow to the heavens with great reverence, and ask for their blessings. It's what I do anyways, so it does not surprise me or make me feel in any way odd.

"Believe in yourself," the lady says to mum every single day at the end of the sessions, "Believe you can beat this demon! Love yourself and be happy. Don't think of anything else, but just be happy!"

I don't know what religion or customary practice these people perform, but anything that talks about self-love and being happy gets my support. Anything that will boost mum's confidence and health and wellbeing is worth a try, even if I don't understand a thing they are chanting.