"Oh what I'd give for a hundred years..."

"Oh, what I'd give for a hundred years,

But the physical interferes,

Everyday more, my Creator.

Oh, what good is the strongest heart,

In a body that's falling apart...?"

The actress half lay on the floor, weakened and defeated. Illness has robbed her of her strength, her courage, her fame and glory. Death is lurking and stalking her, life is fading away. How Evita must have felt toward the end of her life? How powerfully it was captured in song and on stage by the performance of Andrew Lloyd Weber's musical, one of my all time favorites...

The musical was a delight, and something I'd looked forward to some time. In my late teens, I listened to it repeatedly (without realising the true meaning of "dressed up to the nines" or "at sixes and sevens"). One song in particular, "another suitcase, another hall" I felt poignantly described my life.... Always moving, never stable, my family spread across the world, my destiny so unclear and unknown... And for those many years when (first dad and later to a greater extent) mum was ill, my suitcase was always close by and half packed ready to go at an instant's notice. 

Seeing Evita succumb to (as I realised only this weekend) cancer brought back a lot of emotions and memories... For the couple of months, I have been so consumed with work i feel like I've not even had time to "feel". Being someone who is normally in tune with and driven by emotions, I began to feel uncaring and detached from life and the rest of the world. I feel so drained and so very unhappy, even though I was busy and making more money than usual. Soon after the show, in my friends apartment, I stared out the window at the night cityscape, and described how I feel... 

And I sobbed. The first time in a long, long time, even though often at night, when all's so quiet when the world is asleep, the feelings of emptiness and longing flood my heart and bring me close to bursting out in tears. As I told my friend, more and more mum and dad appear before me together, whereas before it was either one or the other. 

Is it so that after some time the dead just get lumped together? Is it true that after some time you just blur death and all those memories of illness and hospital visits together? I've tried hard not to think of and let my thoughts drift there... But seeing evita on the floor and lamenting her body succumbing to illness, I could not do anything else...

Those long nights, and difficult days at the hospital seem like an eternity away now. But I can still see it, smell it, feel it. It was overwhelming, traumatic and horribly painful to endure. And that was just for me, a bystander. How it must have been for dad, for mum! For my friends. For my uncle... For all these millions of cancer patients, and other sufferers of chronical and terminal illnesses, and their families. 

What kept me sane? What kept me alive? The belief of love that will heal me. The belief  that one day I will find someone who will truly heal me and pick me up and fill that void inside. A void that is still void. 

And now, two and a half years on since mum's passing, almost seven years since dad's passing, I am still standing, seemingly going strong. But at times I wonder what holds it all together. Because in moments of solitude, at night and in moment of silence, I can hear the darkness and painful memories echo, I can feel the void vibrate. 

There are moments after my lectures when I stand in the empty classroom and wonder whether my parents are there sitting in the back, smiling at me on the sofa in the back...

There are moments at work when I am so stressed and my eyes so tired that I think of my parents and just doing that would give me a burst of perseverance... Are they proud of me? Would they be proud of me and what I have become and done since they left this world? I sure hope so...

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...

In Vancouver

It crossed my mind yesterday evening as I was riding the skytrain to my relative's place how many times I've been to Vancouver. Firs trip was early 2009, and since then at least twice a year, often to transit. This must be almost the tenth trip to the area...

I arrived at my relative's place, had dinner and spent time with my cousins, just chatting and catching up. They're younger by a decade or so, so what we could talk about is limited. I'm like the older brother they look up to, turn to for advice. And one of my cousins recalled a trip I took him on back in 2009 with fondness. How he enjoyed the entire experience, the foods we ate, the stay at the hostel, the long long walk on the beach.

I looked at the pictures I happened to have on my laptop. How beautiful that trip was, how "innocent" and fresh-minded I was back then. Don't we always have that tendency to feel like life was easier "back then when...."?

"But I remember you were troubled then..." My cousin reminded me. What about? Mum's health perhaps. Feeling lost and confused perhaps, close to a year after arriving in Canada. He thanked me for visiting him so often over the past four years, for helping him establish himself in this foreign land when his parents were not around.

It is hard seeing my cousins and being in their family home. Though welcoming, and though they're family, I feel like I'm out of place and intruding. This is a feeling that will come back to haunt me for a while, I know... Family is so important to me. And I have lost the core of the family I know, I know. And I need to learn to live with that.

I met up with a good friend for brunch. Last time we met, we had a nice long bike ride together. There was a bit of affection sitting on a beach for hours, but I pulled away because my ex gave me signals that he wanted to be with me, and reassured me he was taking steps to make it happen.

How foolish I was, now looking back. How fooled I was, being so blindingly faithful and trusting of my ex and his promises, and yet letting opportunities pass me by. Why do I let this happen to me, why do I continue to let someone in my life who many people have told me is driven by only self interests and will do anything and say anything to make you believe he's genuine and sincere?

It hit me when recently a mutual friend mentioned to me perhaps my ex is still hanging around and trying to keep me close because he feels so guilty to just leave me as I was losing my mum. All the while, he's out there enjoying his relationship, trying to placate me and keep me on the side as the best friend and confidante, but not realising how much damage he is doing and how his indecisiveness and false promises are undermining my trust and our friendship.

As we chatted over brunch, my friend here in vancouver revealed since we last met he found someone with whom he could really relate to. He told me how they met, how they could be doing the simplest things and yet still feel so special and such affection. I tried to keep a straight face, tried to look happy for him (I am, genuinely I am...) . But again it's hard to be faced with the fact that all around me people seem to have found someone they can be intimate with, someone they can confide and be true with. It's depressing that its soon valentines day, and again I am single. How ridiculous and foolish I was to even buy my ex a heart-shaped box of chocolates back December, so blind and crazy to believe in the fantasy that he loves me still and is working on being with me.

I walked around a mall, and suddenly felt so empty again. The holidays are never easy for me, and is even harder this year with mum's absence and loss of the one true friend (my ex) I (thought) i) have ever had. Maybe I should be grateful for all the things I have in life, for all the little things I take for granted.

But for once, for once I want to be reminded what it's like to love someone, what it's like to receive love and affection. For once, now more than ever before, I wish to close my eyes while lying in someone's arms and imagine that I am safe and secure.

For once, more than ever before, how I wish I could wake up and see a smile, feel the warmth of another body next to mine.

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...

Bursting with tears

140113.2034


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. 

Pain

07082012.1240

I never imagined it would be so painful going to see mum again. I started crying as soon as I saw her little shrine... The pictures of mum, one smiling on the train, the other of mum laughing because a cat climbed on her shoulder, made it more unbearable. The gilded maple leaf and the pink tulip are there with her, reminders of the Canada she so enjoyed visiting and the Netherlands she so loved living in.

I promised her i would be strong, and that I'd be happy and go be myself. But truly the loss of a parent cannot be easily consoled, the pain cannot be easily soothed. And the void inside cannot be so quickly filled. I promised mum I would not cry, that I would be strong and find myself again. But truly, my body and mind is so tired, so very tired, and therefore so very weak.

I wiped away my tears, knelt on the floor and bowed deeply. "Be well, mama, be happy..."

I will try and try to be the same.

Trying to remember

When I try to remember, my mind is blank. Can I picture her face, can I replay the sound of her voice or laughter? I fear with time I will forget her, because when I try to remember her, my mind is a terrible, terrible blank...

I wrote to a friend that this is more or less how I feel now. There are moments of terrible pain and indescribable feelings of loss. And then there are moments when life just goes on, as if she never existed-- and if she never existed, then she never did leave. Then there are moments when I long to lie next to her and watch her sleep. And there are moments when I long for her motherly advice and warnings. (which I admit at times I readily dismissed because I'd heard these warning over and over again...). But those memories, those moments appear to be so very vague now, even though she has been gone less than a month or so. How much has happened in these few weeks!

Is a part of me trying to block out mum's memories, trying to drown out and suppress the past and mum's existence so that I will not feel, so that I will not hurt?

I want to cry... I want to hurt so that I know I am alive and really living!

At the dentist

25072012.1623

There are going to be moments, and today I had such a moment, when I will forcefully feel the pain of having no parents... And I can only say, it is so very, very painful...

I went to the dentist, one recommended by mum, to see what can be done about my wisdom teeth. There are four which should be removed, for it will only be a matter of time till they start hurting. The big problem is, the bottom two wisdom teeth are growing horizontally, which is rare and will prove to be tricky (dangerous) to remove.

Back in Canada, the dentist told me to have them removed. But the dentist I saw today, who had helped my brother almost a decade ago with his wisdom teeth removal, told me an alternative and better solution. He recommends keeping the wisdom teeth but instead removing the teeth which are directly next to the wisdom teeth on either side of my jaw. After that, I can adjust the wisdom teeth to fill the gap left behind by the removed teeth. The roots of the teeth he recommends removing are already damaged by the horizontally placed wisdom teeth compressing on them, so he says if you remove the wisdom teeth, it will only be a matter of time till you have to remove the damaged teeth. "Why pay more and go through teeth removal twice if you don't need to?" he told me to go home and think about things, and somehow even though I've just met him, I have a lot of confidence in him. Perhaps because he came so highly recommended by my own late mother.

A lady, also a mother who was there with her son, overheard our conversation. Out of good will, she said: "Go home and ask your mama about it. You don't have to remove the wisdom teeth as other dentists tell you to..."

I know she meant well. I said nothing, but her words made me feel sudden pain and loss. I have no one to ask now. No mother who can advise me, no parent with whom I can consult from now on whenever I make a life-changing (or in this case, potentially life threatening...) decision. I really felt like crying, and telling them: "My parents are both gone... Who can I ask now for advice...?"

I thanked the dentist for his expert opinion, and said I'd go home to consider things. I left the dentist and became so sad. The streets of Taipei just felt emptier, much emptier...

Surge of emotions

It just dawned on me again... Who can I turn to now for advice? Who can I just call up and ask for an opinion on important decisions and not feel like I'm imposing my feelings and insecurities on someone? My mum was there, always a phone call away. But she cannot be reached anymore.

Just the thought of that can send me tearing

Pain of loss

There are moments when the pain of loss is too unbearable, when even crying is not enough...

There are moments when you realise again the significance of not having any parent to turn to, and are reminded that you are on your own now...

Yes, this is the ultimate, ultimate feeling of pain and loss, the ultimate, ultimate feeling of longing. Nothing, nothing is as painful and, at the same time, as numbing as this.

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...

Empty nest

Sitting in the dining area, where mum's altar was for the last two weeks. It's so quite here. No more chanting machine, no more incense in the air. No more mum.

There's an empty feeling in the room, in my heart. Perhaps I never realised how strong these feelings are, but they are there. And they are surfacing more and more with every tear I shed. Though friends are around me, I still feel so empty inside. I know not how to turn to them. And I have this image of me descending into deepest, darkest void I've ever known in my life.

That is scary. And I am perhaps for the first time since mum passed away, very afraid.

Breaking point

I sat before mum's shrine with my ex, and described a little more in detail of what happened in those final days. I told him the heavy burden I felt having been given this immense 'power' to decide the course of mum's treatment over the past few months, and at the end, having the power to, in a way, be given control over her life. "J'ai tué ma mère"  (I killed my mother)... these words kept on repeating inside my head, over and over, those last few days, especially when it came down to the decision to increase her dosage of morphine.

I missed mum terribly this evening, missed her so much I was so close to breaking and crying. I need to cry, but I only teared... Somehow, my ex seems more prone to tears than I am when I describe what happened and my feelings towards this all. Am I unfeeling? Am I cold hearted and made of stone?

I have an open road in front of me he tells me. After all is taken care of, the world is mine, and I am free. But deep down, I cannot but think: is this freedom better than having my mother around for a few more years? Is this freedom not at the expense of the dearest person in my life yet? He hugged me, and when the hug was over, I could see his eyes were again moist and red...

Knowing what you want

A friend came by to visit today, someone who was in my year. She knows mum, and has in the past four years been very supportive of mum and I. She happens to live in Taipei, and on occasion has even come to visit mum when I was not around. And a number of times on Mother's Day, she would send mum a text message.

We share not just the year we began our studies. Her mum passed away several years ago, also due to cancer. She knows the battle of a cancer warrior, and she knows even better the role and pains of a cancer warriors sidekick.

She came by after work to pay respects to mum. Her eyes were moist almost as soon as she stood before the altar. And throughout the evening, as she recounted her experience and listened to mine, she would sniff her nose. I know it is difficult to recall memories. And she reminded me that even after many years the memories will make you tear and cry.

"Give yourself the time to cry..." she said. She said she didn't allow herself that opportunity, for she worked and worked, and her only form of release was when she drank herself silly and poured her emotions out. She regretted that.

We shared stories about the intricacies of Taiwanese funeral rites and traditions and taboos surrounding mourning. Some things make us laugh, others make us feel so strange and upsetting, especially when relatives try to meddle and come in acting as I they know best. Fortunately, we have not had much of that (yet?), as in mum's will she clearly stated that she wanted her two children to take care of the funeral arrangements. And I will of course not disappoint.

"Having gone through this, I think we both know what we want in life..." she said, "We want someone who will be true and lasting, because really life is already so short and there is even less time to love!"

My friend described how when her mother passed away, her boyfriend put his job on hold for a while and immediately rushed back from the US to be with her throughout the entire process. "That is a show of real love..."
And when her boyfriend's mother passed away, she arranged him to travel home so that he could see her again before she left this world. Experiences like this build a relationship, consolidate how much two people mean to one another. Perhaps nothing really brings people together than death, grief and mourning. Death makes you realise how feeble and how temporary we are, and makes you treasure more what you have. Experiencing death in the family makes you love and realise that really, in the end only love matters, and that love will conquer everything.

"Your ex wanting to all the way here is not just out of friendship," he reminded me. "it's a long way to travel and a lot of effort just for a friend..."

Is it?

It is.

Calling mum

Just lying in bed trying to sleep. Another long day filled with family and friends visiting and paying respects to mum at home. A lot of smiles, and trying to host and 'entertain' people when they come. It's only the second day, but it's tiring to call up people and deliver sad news, and to tell people how it all happened. I know I still have to write down what happened that day in detail last Friday, but I'm too tired to do so. And every time I tell recount that moment when mum passed away, it is as if I relive it again. I can see the scene, feel mum's last breath, feel her hands grow colder. Feel her body stop moving forever...

Just now, my brother picked up the phone and said: "Mama..."

I had my eyes closed, but when I heard those words, I instinctively opened my eyes. Of course, I realised a few sentences later, he was talking to his mother in law. After mum left, my brother still, in a way, has someone to call "mother".

I have none. And this thought made me so sad, and feel so alone...

I know it's very different, and perhaps the comparison is horrible because I do, or at least did, have parents. But I feel like I am an orphan now. There were moments before mum passed away when I imagined what it would be like to be "parentless". And now I know what if feels like...

Empty. Alone. Abandoned. Left to discover the world without someone I can turn to for advice or guidance. All on my own now. Who can I call "mama" now? Who can I phone when I want to talk to someone dear and close, and not feel like I'm imposing myself? Who can I visit and feel welcomed and at home every-time? Who will care for me and love me unconditionally and unquestionably, hold me and comfort me no matter what or when?

Perhaps I have not yet realised what I just lost, but the effects and consequences of losing my remaining parent is dawning on me.

And I'm beginning to hurt, more and more.

What do you want me to do?

"What do you want me to do? I can't do anything."

I just wanted to talk, just hoped I could talk to someone who  could listen to me. Never once has my brother asked me how I'm coping, whether I need some support or comforting. Never did he ask about those first few days and weeks at the hospital, how terribly tiring and draining it was, or whether I needed help taking care of mum. It's as if it's my job, my sole duty, as if I don't have a life,  as if I don't have dreams and wishes I would like to fulfill.

Did I not have plans to start working and start preparing for my exams? Do I not long for some semblance of stability and calm in my life, something I've so craved for for four long years (or longer)? His response to my attempt to talk about mum's worsening health condition sounded like I'm causing him trouble.  "What do you want me to say? There nothing I can do." He was using his computer as he said that.

By this time next week, he will be long gone. And I will be here all alone to face all this, to shoulder the responsibility for mum's life and health. Will he see her again after he boards that plane in few days? Who will clean up the mess every-time mum throws up? Who will do the cooking and try to make sure she does not lose several kilograms again? Who will hold her hand, touch her shoulder and look her in the eye and tell her not to be afraid...?

I know my brother cannot do anything. I can imagine he is hemmed in and has a family to provide for, and that he has his own worries and needs to take care of. He has a family, a wife and a child, a mortgage and is  financially tied down.  But just a kind word, just something along the lines of "I appreciate what you're doing.." or "Hang on there..." is enough. But maybe it's too much too ask for.

"Mum is very, very lonely. And she's very depressed. She's often told me she wants to give it all up. That's why I ask you to contact her as often as possible..." I barely reminded my brother our mum doesn't have much time left... Somethings are known, and need not be said. And he knows it. My brother told me how very busy he is at work and cannot call. I do not doubt he is busy. But... "Not even five minutes of your break to call?" Then he said using skype via 3G has connection issues and bad reception. But I often call using 3G Internet, and it seems to work well...

He looked irritated at what I was saying. Perhaps deep down, he is feeling remorse and regret already that he's not done so much for mum... Perhaps he wishes deep down he could do much more and fulfill his duties as a filial and caring son... But I cannot know what he thinking. Perhaps the calm and nonchalance are but a facade masking his real pain and real feelings. 

I went to bed already... In my mind again is the sense of disbelieve and frustration, the latter accentuated by my own brother's complacency to it all... Perhaps it is his way of coping, of shielding himself away from harm an unhappiness and shielding himself from remorse... But I just wish one day he will wake up and realise it's not too late, and to be more  flexible and accepting if change and circumstances...

But brother is the  way he is...

lost will

Where do you find the will to go on?

How do you push yourself wake everyday and do something with life...?

When you lose faith, when you lose hope, you live from moment to moment wondering what life is all about, wondering why you still breathe, still must eat, and why you still must feel.

How have I descended to this mess? How have I become so down that I long to just sleep, and sleep and sleep, and long to close my eyes and pretend there is nothing going on? My head almost constantly is throbbing and aching, my mind wild with thoughts and longings, my heart tearing and bleeding...

Where can I find the source of strength to overcome this terrible, terrible depression I find myself in? Whom can I turn to for support and a kind word, or quiet simply a warm, gentle embrace?

I so crave reassurance right now... I so need someone, something to tell me, to reassure that there will be better days ahead, to remind me not to lose hope, not to give up, not to drown in depression and frustration...

I need something to free my mind and lift me up.

Soon, before I completely die.

Sleepless night

I cannot sleep... Already three in the morning, and yet I'm wide awake. I fell asleep for an hour or so, and then was woken up by the night nurse coming to check on mum. Since then, a mosquito, sounds of snoring, and my own proliferating mind has kept me awake... To think of it, even when I was "sleeping", my mind was not. So many images, so many thoughts, so disturbed, so agitated and scared... And most of all, this creeping loneliness and sense Abandonement pesters me, haunts me...Deeply.

Meeting her grandson

07012012
10.32

I cannot imagine anything more beautiful. A grandmother holding her grandchild in her arms for the very first time. The sun shown on mum's face, revealing her wrinkles and getting hair. My nephew was calm in her arms, and curiously eyed my mum with a puzzled expression. He reached out to finger mum's neck brace and play with the collar of her pink hospital gown.

I stood on the side, as I normally do at these occasions, and took it all in. Mum laughing, pulling face at my nephew, my brother and sister-in-law arm in arm admiring the beautiful first moments of bonding between a grandmother and her grandchild. Mum has seen him so many times on Skype, in pictures and videos... But nothing, nothing compares to the real thing, nothing compares to the warmth and little delicate movements of a baby whose eyes take in this world with wonder and awe. I teared...

What a scene, what a moment. In the background, oxygen tubes, some clutter of glasses and cutlery, pills, and a bouquet of fresh lilies that brother brought from the market (at my suggestion...). Despite the somewhat drab surroundings of the hospital ward, nothing can distract from this very moment.

This is the first time that mum is holding a baby. Not just any baby, but her own son's baby child. What thoughts were behind her little smile? Was she proud to be the grandma of such a precious, and fragile, little being? He is the source of much of her happiness. He has been the source of her strength and determination to get better, for a life wish of hers is to one day hold her grandchild in person. And that wish was accomplished today.

22.54

Another night at the hospital, the eleventh night since my return. There was not even time to go home to rest, even though I did go home, but only to pick up something and immediately leave to return to the hospital.

Mum tells me to go and rest at home. But who will stay with her? Who will attend to her needs, massage her sore back and behind? Who will bring her nutritious food and watch over her so that she does not stumble and fall from her still frail legs?

Not that I am the only one who can make sure she is alright. Mum has been talking about hiring someone, a carer. But I cannot let go... I cannot feel comfortable unless I see that she is alright.

My brother came back last night, but to be honest, as some of mum's friends tell me, there is little he can do. He has a wife and baby to take care of, besides he has to go visit a lot of people in the coming period who are all eagerly wanting to see the little baby. My brother came by today and sat next to mum. It's good that he does that, to keep her company. But when I asked him to give mum a back rub, or to moisten her skin with lotion, he only did so half-heartedly... I know, I cannot expect everyone to do what I do, to be as attentive and detail-minded as I am. And besides, he's still recovering from jetlag and didn't sleep much last night because my nephew was noisy.

I know being with mum makes her uneasy and feel guilty. She keeps on telling me to go home, to leave her for she will be fine in her own. But I just cannot leave her like that... And I get irritated too. So tired and irritated that she is telling me to go and leave her  when all I'm trying to do is be with her at this crucial time.

To be honest, I do feel the fatigue and restlessness creeping in. I barely have time for myself, every moment it seems there is something to do, something to take care of... If not the dishes, then it's making sure mum gets the right pills and necessary nutrients... If it's not making sure mum is comfortable in bed, then it's making sure mum gets up and walks around a bit to exercise and train how to walk again... Every single moment it seems I am busy doing something. I do it all, I face it all with a calm composure, but deep down, I feel myself cracking...

I barely have time for myself, to write, to work, to collect my thoughts and calm down. At the same time of dealing with mum's new condition, my thoughts drift to my ex, who keeps writing me messages that I don't reply to. Don't want to reply to. Because I don't want him to feel conflicted and torn any more. He is better off without me, without having to listen to me talk about my problems and what I'm facing here. He told me so clearly he is happy with this new guy, so implying I have given him much grief and unhappiness (admittedly in the past few weeks I have...). If he is happy, what does he need me for? What else can i give him that his new "boyfriend" cannot give him? I see little need for us to talk at all, as he seems to want to, when all I can bring him is heaviness and awkward conversations. So I just want to cut myself off from his life. At least for now. Is it cruel? But he told me to move on... He's already doing that. So I'm just letting  him finally "resolve" me and move on, as he has wanted to for a long time.

Probably the hurried and randomness of the notes for the past few days reflect the mood I am in... Disjointed, nervous and agitated... And so very tired...

Day eight

05012012
7.37

Dream... Why am I so tormented by dreams and thoughts? I am already so physically exhausted, and yet when I lie down to sleep, dreams plague my mind...

A myriad of images and random people in my life... With my brother on a bus heading back to Taipei from somewhere, the landscape outside seemed barren an deserted... With my ex and two other friend's (faceless, not recognisable...) and checking into a youth hostel. The mood was so tense, and I was made to feel like I'd done something terribly wrong... I was made to feel so guilty, even though it was (whatever it was) not my fault...

I wake up, and it is already morning. Half past seven, the hospital ward is waking up, people are moving about in the corridor, the cleaner is here to pick up rubbish... I open my eyes, realise it was a a dream, and take a few moments to allow the place where I am to sink in...

I am in hospital still, sleeping next to mum on a tiny bed/chair, and my back is aching, my head is hurting. I lift my her, and see mum smile at me, softly tell me: "Thank you for being here for me..."

Those words fill me with warmth, with hope, with gratitude that my dear, brave mother is here to fight and live for another moment, another day.

And how fortunate I am, despite the aches, the discomfort and at times irritation of having to take care of not only her wellbeing and health but also care for my own health and wellbeing, I am with her, and she is with me still...

18.37
Day two of mum rehabilitation. There is a class in the morning, aimed at training the strength of her arms and legs and basic coordination. In the afternoon, from two thirty till around three thirty, four o'clock, there are exercises to help her stabilise her walking, train her leg muscles and general endurance.

It is not easy, as mum is still a bit wobbly and unstable when she walks. She sighed and told me today how quickly from one day to the next she could lose so much of her ability to walk. But I encouraged her, at other people's expense, yes, and told her that her condition is much better than others... Those who are completely wheelchair-bound, those who have lost almost all mobility of their legs and arms and hands... Those who must endure so much pain just trying to sit up straight, let alone stand or walk...

One exercise involves mum using chopsticks to pick up marbles and place them from one bowl to another. Another exercise involves mum using her foot to shift beads from one side of what looks like a child's for learning how to count.

The physiotherapists who instruct mum are amazed by her progress and ability to do many of the exercises with speed and accuracy. I can see mum struggles and strives hard, I can see it from the beads of sweat on her forehead, from the way she pants and gets out of breath. Mum is really trying, trying very hard to walk and stand steady again. As my aunt told me, she is strong, she is doing it so that we, the children, can see her progress and recover quickly and soon feel that it is alright to leave her and go do what we have to do. My aunt tells me, deep down mum feels responsible and guilty to have to become dependent on me, and she would like to quickly recover so I can go back to my life. And I suspect, mum is striving hard, pushing herself so that when she sees her grandson for the first time, can garner strength to hold him, rock him in her arms...

It is amazing what mum can do, what mum can set herself to do within such a short period of time... Her courage, her strength, her determination to get better, to not be beaten is admirable. And I am so proud, so very touched that she is my mother, and that I am her son...