Long awaited journey

27072012.2333

I've been thinking about this day for years, and been planning it for months. The dream to bike around the island (or at the very least as far as my legs and energy levels can take me...) is supposed to be a life changing experience, something I need to rediscover the meaning of life and to spend some time on my own. After Mum's passing, this is perhaps as good a time as ever to embark on this long awaited journey.

So I set a date, today, after much of Mum's after-affairs have been dealt with (now we are just waiting for confirmation from her former employee to pay out some of her retirement fund). I probably should have train Ed a bit, or at least biked around the block, for after all, it has been over a month since I last packed away my bike and placed it under Mum's bed to store.

I got the bike out, dusted off the dust, and assembled it together late last night. And eight hours or so later, I was on the bike, beginning my journey.

There were moments I sang to myself. The excitement of hopping on a bike and the freedom that comes with that is so exhilarating and liberating. As I peddled southward (going around the island anti clockwise...), my thoughts drifted to mum, to various moments in the past few months. I saw mum, watching me from afar, goading me on. Before, when I told her about my dream, she told me: "go for it. Go realise your dream." I'm doing this right now, mum!

Feelings of joy were mixed with feelings of loss and pain... Sometimes so strong I could almost feel my tears mix with the almost incessant downpour (terrible weather, but at least it's not too hot...yet.)

I needed this time alone, time to myself to think over events and experiences, or at least let them wash over me and see what impressions are left behind. I need to know I can be strong and determined, and that I can do something so many people when they hear about it say: "That's crazy!" I need to show and prove to myself I can do it, I can exert myself and tire myself and excel.

Of course, there have been various moment during the day when I felt I couldn't make it. My legs and knees ached badly, probably from the lack of exercise and sudden repetitive motion for hours. My body needs time to adjust, not only to the strenuous exercise, but also the humidity and the roar of cargo traffic on very busy interstate roads and exprssways.

To the airport

On the metro. The last few hours have been a rush. I lay down for a rest, needed to calm my mind and upset stomach. I can feel the stress mounting again. And it's physically manifesting in bad cramps, cramps I've not felt for a while.

All these images cross my mind... Mum lying there with an expression of pain and discomfort... Mum breathing laboriously... Images of possible futures and potential events that may take place, and that are taking place in the vivid world of my imagination... Rushing home on the plane... Crying at the hospital... Holding onto mum's limp body... Inconsolable pain, pain, pain that will not go away...

I shudder at these thoughts, I feel deep deep fear as these images tear through my mind...

Heading to the airport. Flight in two hours. Another flight. It seems crazy that I'm heading back to Vancouver, where I just was last week. But I needed the time and place to fully concentrate, to be at home and rest in my own bed, to he surrounded by my own things and to recharge. I needed that little reminder that whatever happens, I have a home, I have these possessions that ground me to my life and tell me who I am (yes, it's very materialistic to be attached to my home and my things...). I need that more than anything at the moment. I need that at a time when who-knows-when need to part with the dearest person in my life...

Was it a waste of money to be flying back and forth across Canada just in order to study? Circumstances compel me to. Or perhaps I'm just too spoiled and cannot concentrate unless I'm in a quiet environment insulated from distractions. But this exam is important. Not just because it cost $400 just to register to take it. But because I have postponed it once before already.

And I know mum would want me to succeed, would want me to sit the exam. For her sake. I can imagine that she's lying there in bed and thinking about me, praying for me and wishing me luck.

Lounge

I was shaken awake by the alarm. Did I sleep? I'm not sure. But close my eyes I did and let myself just relax and the soft music and soothing scent wash over me...

Almost one hour I lay here on the comfy chair waiting for the check in to open.

Three more hours till my flight....

Departure

"Quietly, quietly I left, as if I quietly, quietly came..." ( 悄悄的我走了，. 正如我悄悄的來)

Those are the words of a famous poet, and every time I leave home I am reminded of those words.

I called mum just before I boarded the flight. She sounded tired. And then it struck me: from now on I'll only be able to hear her voice, at best perhaps see grainy her on the computer. I will not be able to touch her, hold her like I've gotten so used to doing...

Just before leaving home, I lay next to her. Mum did not want to get up. She looked so sad, and said very little. She also looked like she was in pain. I put her arm around me, and she stroked my hair, my forehead. "Go and work hard..." she said, wishing me luck on my studying and in my exam next week.

I did nor cry. I was perhaps over crying. But I can't speak for mum. I stayed by her bedside till the very last minute. I stroked her thin arms, held her hands. In my heart was a quiet calm. No fear, no regrets, no frustrations, no deep heart-wrenching pain as I had anticipated and dreaded. Just this calm. "May you be well... May you be happy... May you be at ease... May you eat and be healthy..." I wished mum silently with my eyes closed. I could smell the scent of mint, the scent of the massage oil that she uses to ease the bloated feelings of her bowels and to momentarily drift away and be free from discomforts. Mum said very little. When I looked at her, she had her eyes closed most of the time and was frowning.

I got up and inspected my suitcase again, and returned to touch mum again. This I did several times. Mum did not want to get up, which was disappointing, for it was hard to see her lying there as I was about to leave for an indefinite period of time. But again I reassured her I would be back again.

"Go quickly," mum said, "Don't keep the driver waiting..." It was a bit disappointing, as I was hoping she'd say something "touching". But I imagine she was saddened (and tired... It as barely six in the morning).

I hugged mum one last time, gently, for I was afraid to hurt her open wound and to push too hard on her frail body frame. "Take good care! Eat well and exercise!" I reminded her again, "Next time I see you, I hope to see be stronger and gain more weight..."
Even as I said those words, there was a disturbing image mum getting thinner and even more frail than she is now, if it is even possible.

I stroked her arm again, and silently wished positive energy and healing vibes would pass through me to her. I left her room, and headed out to put on my shoes, and almost made it out the door. But I turned back again, and went to mum's room one last time. She had her thin arm placed over her eyes. "Take good care, mama. I'm really going." Perhaps I should not have come back and said good bye again, for it would only prolong the pain and the inevitable leaving.

I left mum lying in her bed, left her in the hands of my brother and the carer. I left behind four months of many difficult days and many tough moments of agony and frustrations. But it is all in the past now.

I boarded the taxi, and my cousin came along to the airport with me. It probably made the journey to the airport less sad, less difficult.

It was a clear, beautiful day. Another day I left home to go back home...

Concern

"I'm worried that you might be 'cheated' on" (被人騙), mum said, in response to how I was talking excitedly about my plan to cycle around the island. Alone. It was a little after half past nine, but she was already in bed. The entire day, she has been so weak, so tired. And the severity of the numbness of her right hand has worsened. Even using a fork to pick food up is a struggle. Even using the spatula to stir vegetables in the wok is a challenge.

" 'Cheated' on? By whom? Please explain!" I said. In Taiwanese, a language spoken by a people who love euphemisms ambiguities, to be "cheated on" generally means someone taking advantage of you. In a variety of ways... gauging you with exuberant prices, exploiting you sexually, perhaps leading you astray and taking you to "improper" places. I really had no idea what mum meant.

"I'm just worried about you being on your own..."

"Worried! I've lived in London, not exactly the safest city in the world. I live in Montreal, where there are gangs and shootings and plentiful of drugs. I grew up alone in the Netherlands! Why were you not worried about me then, but worried about me in Taiwan?" I know a mother is always concerned. But in Taiwan there is a paranoia that danger is everywhere. I blame it solely on the news media and sensationalist newspapers that thrive on reporting on crime, suicides, kidnappings, fires, accidents and traffic crashes. Killings, rape, disgraced celebrities... everything and anything that is remotely negative can become news. And there are at least half a dozen channels that are dedicated to news alone. News about how a college student burnt herself using the hair curler, news about how a truck cruising the highway was seen 'unloading' cargo without the driver noticing... Most recently, the news of a celebrity and her boyfriend, who in a state of drunkedness allegedly kicked a taxi driver and caused him broken ribs, captured the nation's attention for several days.

"Taiwan is not that dangerous! Taiwanese people are the kindest and most friendly people I have come across," I said. I may be biased, but even friends from overseas who have visited my homeland have told me how touched they are by the warmth of the people, and by how willing people are to extend a helping hand to strangers. "Sometimes too kind," I said. And I went off on a rant about how historically Taiwanese people have  always been subjugated by another regime, the previous of which was the murderous Chinese Nationalists...

"You know why I want to go on this trip? I want to know my homeland" I said. Too many people who live here do not know the name of the local river nearby, and yet have been indoctrinated to know off by heart the names of rivers in mainland China. A phenomenon that I find alarming, and solely because the Chinese Nationalist regime for decades brainwashed people into thinking Taiwan is a part of China, and that we are all Chinese. Hogwash...

"And I want to find myself on this trip. I want to find direction, find out what I would like to do in life, what I want out of life," I explained. Why now? Because I can. Because I need to. I simply need to take the time for myself and clear my mind, get away a bit from being faced with mum's condition every waking moment... get away from the seeing mum sick, watching her vomit, seeing her lie in bed all day. Is it selfish of me to get away, to want to 'escape', especially as I am sure mum would do anything to 'escape' from her condition, to get away from her old, sick body....? Is it selfish of me to want to go off on a personal quest and soul-searching? I'm not sure. I can think of a lot of reasons why I would like to go off on my own and bike around for ten, twelve days. But what is the reason not to?
I think after all the time I have spent with mum, and with all that I do for her, I deserve a little time alone, I deserve a break.

I hugged mum, and lay next to her for a few moments. Silently, I hoped her body can rest... silently, I hope that she can have an undisturbed night of sleep, for she has for so many, many days been restless and sleepless, and it is wearing her down. "I know you care about me, and that you are concerned. But I will be fine. I really want to do this."

She smiled, and nodded.