Originally we had dinner invitations by a mutual friend, and because of the latest upheaval in our relationship, I alone went. I had to cover for my boyfriend, make up that he wasn't feeling well, and throughout dinner, whenever our friend made references to our relationship, how solid it was and how beautiful it was to see it blossom finally, I could but smile weakly and stay quiet. Where do you begin with where our relationship now stands...?
I was feeling sick after the meal, perhaps sick in the way I always get when something upsetting and traumatic occurs in my life. I went to pick up my bike from his place, half hoping, expecting him to maybe say something, but there was nothing. Just a teary-eyed look at me, a look which I tried to avoid. All that was said was "Ride safely..."
And I left hurriedly on my back, didnt even look back because a storm was gathering, and tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes...
After all we have gone through, nothing to say? To be fair, it has been a rough two days and sleepless night, and this afternoon was spent balling his eyes out from hurt and loss. But just last night we told one another what it was that made our relationship so special-- the fact that it was built on our friendship, our inside jokes, our live if biking and travelling and much more.
All that does not compare or measure up to his feelings for someone he connected over the course of a week? All that in jeopardy because he is torn? What am I supposed to feel when he tells me again and again that he cares about me, feels for me, or even loves me, when there seems to be still so much doubt and hesitation about our relationship, despite what I have tried to do to make him happy and feel loved and appreciated.
Feelings cannot be explained or rationalised, and it is utterly unfair, impossible even, for anyone to dictate how you should feel towards another person. But at thus stage I just feel I cannot be in a friendship, a relationship even, where there are so many complications, so much emotional baggage and outside pressure.
However much I treasure our friendship, our relationship, I just cannot stay idly by and wait and wait only to be hurt and burnt again....
13 May 2011
Walk by the river
I cleared away the rolled up tissues, and into the bin they went. The tears and snot have since dried, the conversation and connection we had last night seemed like a long, long time ago. The roses I gave him a few days earlier have wilted, and drooping with heavy, sunken heads.
Three hours, maximum four I slept. Initially I snug off into the room next door to sleep, but he followed me next door and lay next to me. A little after ten I woke up, and got up, leaving him to sleep as I went away and meditated.
He was weak, and broke down again. I was not feeling bitter, not angry, and that sense of hurt, betrayal even, even though it still lingered, I had slowly let go. I comforted him, in my capacity as a friend now, a friend who cares for another friend’s happiness and wellbeing. I didn’t want to leave it just like that, leave him feeling more guilt-ridden, towards me, towards the entire akwardness of the situation, towards all the people involved in the romance/love-triangle. So I braced myself, put on a ‘friend’ face, and took a long, long walk with him to his favourite place by the river side. For a while, we talked, smiled, joked, like friends would do. For a while, we were just that, friends.
By the river I sat, with him a few rocks to the right of me. That was when the silence descended upon us. Silence, brought on by the roar and growl and fury of the rowdy river as it tumbled, twisted and turned a rough, rough path downstream. I closed my eyes in meditation, tried to calm my thoughts, tried to absorb the positive energies of the sun, of the beautiful day, tried to listen and comprehend the chatter of birds above the background of the mighty, mighty river flowing before me. But I did not understand a thing. I could not comprehend what was happening.
Images of my dad face flashed across my mind... images of mum, imaginations of the face and figure of the person who so captivated my boyfriend within such a short time, images and memories of the beautiful time he shared with me, even just the day before while we peddled and peddled on our bikes in the sunset... So many images, so many images, so conflicting, so beautiful, so surreal, so dangerous and hurtful.
Tears started to shed down my face, and drip onto the hard, hard rocks beneath me. Tears that splashed and sprayed to become indistinguishable from all the water in the river. In silence we walked, saying only the necessary, while most of the way the only sound was the chatter of our footsteps, and the playful tag of our mutual shadows.
Back at home, just before he was about to leave, he could not leave just like that. It was difficult to watch, to be a part of, to see him so broken and torn and sobbing with such grief and pain. I never wanted to hurt him, or to add to his sense of guilt or confusion. But I wanted, I needed him to understand how hurt I am by all this.... by the back and forth banter between him and the other person ever since they reconnected after the concert, by the fact that I have for such a long time been made to feel so insecure about my own ability to open up myself to make him happy and feel loved (and now I know that I left him wanting...), by the fact that despite wanting to be with me, there are still feelings for the other person that has resulted in much hesitation and skepticism in our relationship...
But I must take a portion of the responsibility, for having kept him waiting for so long, for putting him in a situation to have to choose, for withholding my own emotions, when for a long time all he wanted was an acknowledgement that I felt something for him (which I did, but never admitted...). And he himself had been conflicted, wounded by a hurtful breakup that lasted over a year, and was probably not in a state to dive into something deep and meaningful, certainly not with someone (me) he had loved and admired from a distance, whom he only recently could get much closer to.
But I must take a portion of the responsibility, for having kept him waiting for so long, for putting him in a situation to have to choose, for withholding my own emotions, when for a long time all he wanted was an acknowledgement that I felt something for him (which I did, but never admitted...). And he himself had been conflicted, wounded by a hurtful breakup that lasted over a year, and was probably not in a state to dive into something deep and meaningful, certainly not with someone (me) he had loved and admired from a distance, whom he only recently could get much closer to.
He wanted time to think, to reflect and think things through, and he said he'd get back to me in a few weeks or a month or so. At this point, at this very moment, I have simply resigned myself to fate. At this point, I no longer wish to compete for his affection, I no longer wish to try and try any longer to make him feel special and loved and cared for. Maybe my feelings will change, maybe I'll miss him dearly, miss and long for the wonderful, beautiful bond we have together that no one has so far managed to match in my life. We were after all, friends first and foremost before becoming lovers... It will be hard to let go, to completely close myself up, even though my instinct now is to do exactly that.
Maybe it's self-protection, maybe it's me erecting my barriers up again to insulate myself from pain and hurt I have been exposed to as a child.... But I feel myself closing up, feel me retreating and forsaking all that we have shared and come to cherish and find comfort in, because I no longer can deal with the roller coaster ride of jealousy, having to please, having to compete for someone else's affection... I returned his apartment key, and we said goodbye. We hugged, a long, long hug, during which I patted his back, stroked his body, felt the warmth of his touch, sniffed in his scent that for so long has been so mesmerising to my nose and senses. I turned to give him a brush of our cheeks. And the front door shut between us.
Maybe it's self-protection, maybe it's me erecting my barriers up again to insulate myself from pain and hurt I have been exposed to as a child.... But I feel myself closing up, feel me retreating and forsaking all that we have shared and come to cherish and find comfort in, because I no longer can deal with the roller coaster ride of jealousy, having to please, having to compete for someone else's affection... I returned his apartment key, and we said goodbye. We hugged, a long, long hug, during which I patted his back, stroked his body, felt the warmth of his touch, sniffed in his scent that for so long has been so mesmerising to my nose and senses. I turned to give him a brush of our cheeks. And the front door shut between us.
How do I feel now? Drained of emotions, saddened and hurt, and unsure how being alone again will affect my mind and my body, unsure how I am to cope with the new situation, when I don't even intend to tell anyone, least of all our mutual friends, about our abrupt breakup.
How do I feel now? Strangely, calm and reserved, or perhaps that is all a temporary illusion? Strangely, deep inside, I feel for him, feel his pain and hurt, even though some of it is incomprehensible. Deep inside, I wish so badly I can take away his pain, wipe away his tears and tell him that things will be ok after a while, for these emotions, like all things, will come to pass. I wish I could hold him, rock him gently and reassure him that I am not angry at him, not at all. I wish I could calm him down, like he has calmed me down many times before, in this obvious period of need.
But I don't know if my presence, if my very sight, is the reason why he feels so sad and so torn. However I wish to hold and touch his hand, I fear I could only prolong his pain and confusion, especially at a time when he needs the time and space to reflect... I so wish I could comfort him, stop him from crying, stop him from sobbing and feeling so tormented, and provide him with a calm mind with no regrets or remorse...
Fare well, my lover, fare well, my friend...
12 May 2011
complications
How did I ever get myself into a relationship mess? How did I ever become entangled in a web of incestuous relationships with people that somehow are so proximate to one another?
He wanted me to sleep next to him, and he fell asleep first. I lay in bed next to him for a while, but I felt so estranged, hurt, wronged, like I've been slapped in the face. Of course I have a role to play in all the Complications we find ourselves in. That I cannot doubt, for the cause of all suspicion, cover up and 'cheating' (if it can be called that...) is varied, and no one is to blame. I cannot blame him, cannot really tell him how much I feel hurt that for many months, at least since we officially became a couple, I could not really give him all he wanted, however much I opened up, however much I tried. I somehow left him feeling empty, even if that emptiness is just a little void... but that void is enough to cast doubt about us, and to make him think or wonder probably he missed a chance with the boy who made he feel so perfect, so wonderful in such a short period of time.
I just cannot bear to lie next to him tonight after all that has been revealed tonight, not when I feel the tears are ready to burst from my trembling cheeks...
He wanted me to sleep next to him, and he fell asleep first. I lay in bed next to him for a while, but I felt so estranged, hurt, wronged, like I've been slapped in the face. Of course I have a role to play in all the Complications we find ourselves in. That I cannot doubt, for the cause of all suspicion, cover up and 'cheating' (if it can be called that...) is varied, and no one is to blame. I cannot blame him, cannot really tell him how much I feel hurt that for many months, at least since we officially became a couple, I could not really give him all he wanted, however much I opened up, however much I tried. I somehow left him feeling empty, even if that emptiness is just a little void... but that void is enough to cast doubt about us, and to make him think or wonder probably he missed a chance with the boy who made he feel so perfect, so wonderful in such a short period of time.
I just cannot bear to lie next to him tonight after all that has been revealed tonight, not when I feel the tears are ready to burst from my trembling cheeks...
Nauseating...
I feel so sick, so nauseated. Shaking, horribly, horribly like a leaf…
I called my boyfriend tonight, and on his face I could see something was wrong. Something fundamental. He was pale and quiet.
Then came the shocker. He had just spoken with his friend, the one he had a brief but passionate romance with back in November. My boyfriend wanted to keep our relationship a secret from the friend. He always insisted that it was because he didn’t want to hurt his friend, which I accepted, however uncomfortable I was with the fact that I was non-existent as far as this friend and former love interest was concerned. I felt insecure whenever I saw them exchange text messages, I felt so frightened when they went to a concert together recently, I felt so fearful the other day that they had exchanged conversation on the phone.
By some twist of fate, my boyfriend’s former love interest found out about us. That was what made my boyfriend numb and go into shock. What are the chances of someone finding out something that should not be found out? All this time I thought he just didn’t want to hurt the friend. But now I am not so sure… there have been signs pointing to my suspicions. My boyfriend, or whatever he is to me, whatever relationship we have become involved in all this time, probably didn’t want the other person to know because he still felt there was a possibility between them.
I feel so cheap, I feel betrayed, like I am just an option, whereas he was all this time keeping another option open, just in case things did not work out between me and my boyfriend, he could always go back to that friend of his. Maybe that is a harsh assessment of the situation, for maybe he did not know what he felt, and he was so confused and so scared of losing me, that he just jumped at the opportunity to be with me, without much thought, without having first faced his own feelings...
All this time, all these months, I was slowly, slowly opening up myself, letting go of my feelings, expressing my affection and love for my boyfriend. Yet I felt for some reason there was always some kind hesitation from his side. I could never really figure out why he would sometimes look away or be lost in thought when he was with me.
I could never really figure out why he was sometimes hesitant in showing affection, and there I was wrongly believing that it was just his reserved nature and not wanting to have his feelings be on display. He told me the other day he is hesitant, somewhat holding back, because he was skeptical of love after his previous long term relationship…
But now I know, or at least it is a very strong possibility, that perhaps he has been hesitating and holding back because he still feels for the other boy. What is it about the other person that makes him so intrigued and makes him feel like there is something missing that I could not give him? What is it that I cannot provide or show him, that the other person managed to do so perfectly within the span of a few days chatting, and a night of passion?
Who am I to him? Who have I been to him after all this time? What does our relationship mean to him, really? I never could figure out completely, even though I have asked him from time to time what he feels toward me. Occasionally, he would reach out to touch my hand or stroke my arm in an attempt to assure me what I meant to him… but rarely, at least ever since we began our relationship back in January, did he really say, really describe what I meant to him…
Whereas I have tried in so many ways, so many times, through little notes, through flowers, through messages and through massages and strokes of his body, to let him know how much I appreciate and treasure him being with me… Were those attempts to make him feel loved and cared for all in vain? Was I deluding myself that I had finally find what I have been looking for all this time?
Maybe my boyfriend (for lack of a better word) does has an inability to express his inner most feelings… or maybe, as I suspect, he cannot express what he feels because he is conflicted inside about how he feels toward me, and towards the other guy.
Whereas I have tried in so many ways, so many times, through little notes, through flowers, through messages and through massages and strokes of his body, to let him know how much I appreciate and treasure him being with me… Were those attempts to make him feel loved and cared for all in vain? Was I deluding myself that I had finally find what I have been looking for all this time?
Maybe my boyfriend (for lack of a better word) does has an inability to express his inner most feelings… or maybe, as I suspect, he cannot express what he feels because he is conflicted inside about how he feels toward me, and towards the other guy.
I do not need this, I told him. I do not need to be strung along and toyed with like a test subject. I do not need this kind of excess emotional baggage when I am already so depressed and concerned about mum’s fragile state of health…
Call me selfish or a quitter, but sometimes it is easier to quit while you are ahead. Just quit and let things go, as if it were all a dream...
Wake up
Suddenly, as if there were a clock ticking inside of me, I woke up at five in the morning without thinking, even though o had gone to bed little more than four hours earlier. In Taiwan, it was exactly twelve hours later, five in the afternoon, and from what mum told me she should have been done with her new radiotherapy by now.
I called an the phone rang a few times before she picked up. She was at first worried and wondering what I was doing up at this hour. But later she was touched that I was concerned about how she was doing, and I told her I woke up because ( and it is partly true) I needed to use the washroom.
"I'm fine," she said, much to my relief, " Really like the doctor said u didn't feel anything, except perhaps a little tingling around the C7 section of the spine. It lasted no more than ten minutes, perhaps eight. And I think it I beginning to help, as I don't feel much sores and pains around the neck as I did before".
I was so happy to hear that, ti hear that she was well, or at least sounded well. "I'm glad to do this, because it'll reduce the swelling of the tumour and relieve some strains on the nerves. It'll prepare me to go on the big trip soon!" I was glad her mind and energy is focused in something positive, something at the end of it all, so that this upcoming trip can somehow pull her through....
Pull her through the eleven more sessions of radiotherapy to follow, pull her through whatever discomforts and sideeffects she may yet experience, pull her through all she has to feel and experience by herself, because no one is next to her when she goes to do treatment everyday for the next dozen of days...
Be strong, mum, I am thinking of you, praying for you, in my waking and sleeping moments...
I called an the phone rang a few times before she picked up. She was at first worried and wondering what I was doing up at this hour. But later she was touched that I was concerned about how she was doing, and I told her I woke up because ( and it is partly true) I needed to use the washroom.
"I'm fine," she said, much to my relief, " Really like the doctor said u didn't feel anything, except perhaps a little tingling around the C7 section of the spine. It lasted no more than ten minutes, perhaps eight. And I think it I beginning to help, as I don't feel much sores and pains around the neck as I did before".
I was so happy to hear that, ti hear that she was well, or at least sounded well. "I'm glad to do this, because it'll reduce the swelling of the tumour and relieve some strains on the nerves. It'll prepare me to go on the big trip soon!" I was glad her mind and energy is focused in something positive, something at the end of it all, so that this upcoming trip can somehow pull her through....
Pull her through the eleven more sessions of radiotherapy to follow, pull her through whatever discomforts and sideeffects she may yet experience, pull her through all she has to feel and experience by herself, because no one is next to her when she goes to do treatment everyday for the next dozen of days...
Be strong, mum, I am thinking of you, praying for you, in my waking and sleeping moments...
Long bike ride
He insisted that we go for a bike ride, even though I was reluctant at first. I didn't want to bother him, infect him with my dark, brooding thoughts and mood, even though, as they say, a partner is for better and for worse.
But his large eyes offered compassion, his soft kisses offered solace and comfort. At one point, I broke the silence and cried literally on his shoulder. How embarrassed I was, and kept on apologising for being weak, for being so emotional and distraught by the latest development with mum. I felt like I was such a burden, even though I vowed never to burden anyone with my problems and sorrows. But he knew somehow ways to lure it out of me... To lure the tears out, lure the emotions out, and to leave me drained of sorrow, and filled with renewed energy, and an inkling of hope that things will be ok... I wiped away the tears, stood up and breathed deeply. You can cry, cry and cry, but there is a time to pull together, grit your teeth, and just face life and the world, however ugly or difficult things may be(come).
We did eventually go on the bike ride, a wonderfully long bike ride around the islands and the mighty St Laurent River. The wind seemed to be against us, yet we pressed forward and rode, romantically, care-freely at dusk. On a bridge spanning the sprawling river that more resembled a broad open sea, I looked deeply into his eyes, admired his face, his lips, his hair which all so beautifully glowed in the gentle rays of the setting sun. I was filled with such gratitude, such appreciation that in frightful moments of confusion and despair, I am not alone anymore.
As I peddled, I felt freed from my worries, distracted, if only temporarily, from my fears of the unknown. On my wrist I carried a bag, and in the bag sat a white teddy bear mum had bought me when I was in Taiwan back in January. "Hug this when you think of me," mum told me.
The bear accompanied me every bit of the way as I biked, through the city, over the river, past woods and green fields, past industrial estates and giant ships docked on the quay... I wanted to take the bear around, symbolically as if I were showing mum around. Probably a stupid gesture of make-believe and fantasy, imagining that she could see what I saw and experience the wind and freedom in my hair as I biked hard around the city...
But however ridiculous or stupid I looked with a teddy bear with his head peeping out of a bag dangling on my wrist, I seemed to receive great comfort and assurance from it. It was as if i was doing something that hopefully across the vast stretches of land and seas mum could experience and feel that I am with her whatever I am doing, wherever I am heading.
Even if I wee not physically there, my hugs and caresses of the little white teddy in my mind can transcend time and space to reach mum and offer her comfort and assurance far, far away...
But his large eyes offered compassion, his soft kisses offered solace and comfort. At one point, I broke the silence and cried literally on his shoulder. How embarrassed I was, and kept on apologising for being weak, for being so emotional and distraught by the latest development with mum. I felt like I was such a burden, even though I vowed never to burden anyone with my problems and sorrows. But he knew somehow ways to lure it out of me... To lure the tears out, lure the emotions out, and to leave me drained of sorrow, and filled with renewed energy, and an inkling of hope that things will be ok... I wiped away the tears, stood up and breathed deeply. You can cry, cry and cry, but there is a time to pull together, grit your teeth, and just face life and the world, however ugly or difficult things may be(come).
We did eventually go on the bike ride, a wonderfully long bike ride around the islands and the mighty St Laurent River. The wind seemed to be against us, yet we pressed forward and rode, romantically, care-freely at dusk. On a bridge spanning the sprawling river that more resembled a broad open sea, I looked deeply into his eyes, admired his face, his lips, his hair which all so beautifully glowed in the gentle rays of the setting sun. I was filled with such gratitude, such appreciation that in frightful moments of confusion and despair, I am not alone anymore.
As I peddled, I felt freed from my worries, distracted, if only temporarily, from my fears of the unknown. On my wrist I carried a bag, and in the bag sat a white teddy bear mum had bought me when I was in Taiwan back in January. "Hug this when you think of me," mum told me.
The bear accompanied me every bit of the way as I biked, through the city, over the river, past woods and green fields, past industrial estates and giant ships docked on the quay... I wanted to take the bear around, symbolically as if I were showing mum around. Probably a stupid gesture of make-believe and fantasy, imagining that she could see what I saw and experience the wind and freedom in my hair as I biked hard around the city...
But however ridiculous or stupid I looked with a teddy bear with his head peeping out of a bag dangling on my wrist, I seemed to receive great comfort and assurance from it. It was as if i was doing something that hopefully across the vast stretches of land and seas mum could experience and feel that I am with her whatever I am doing, wherever I am heading.
Even if I wee not physically there, my hugs and caresses of the little white teddy in my mind can transcend time and space to reach mum and offer her comfort and assurance far, far away...
Home
I don't know what came over me... One moment I was sitting in the library working, the next moment, as the tune of a Taiwanese song echoed in my ears, I could feel the tears heavy and ready to drop.
On my way to the washroom, the voices and words flowed and drew tears from my eyes... The song was is about the mountains and oceans of Taiwan, the hardwork of our foreparents, the love and care they nurtured and provide for the next generation...
As I cried in the washroom stall, I was so torn by my emotions, so weighed down by guilt and indecision... Should I leave, or should I stay? Do I continue with my happy life here, or do I catch the next plane home, to be with my mum as she enters another critical stagen in her treatment...?
The mountains, the birds, the oceans, the trees, the sweat and years of the ancestors echoed in my ears, and touched my heart...
On my way to the washroom, the voices and words flowed and drew tears from my eyes... The song was is about the mountains and oceans of Taiwan, the hardwork of our foreparents, the love and care they nurtured and provide for the next generation...
As I cried in the washroom stall, I was so torn by my emotions, so weighed down by guilt and indecision... Should I leave, or should I stay? Do I continue with my happy life here, or do I catch the next plane home, to be with my mum as she enters another critical stagen in her treatment...?
The mountains, the birds, the oceans, the trees, the sweat and years of the ancestors echoed in my ears, and touched my heart...
Email from a friend
Reading her email brought tears to my eyes. In her words of desperation, in her sentences full of worry and anxiety, I could see myself, I could feel, so raw, so painful, the hurt of being so powerless, so utterly powerless, when you are watching a loved one slowly, slowly fade away...]
My friend lives across the ocean, in a different time zone, in a different place, in a different life. And yet, her pain resembles that of mine, her feelings of being torn between living a life of your own and being there to support your mother in times of need, echo that of my own.
I of course cannot know exactly what is going through my friend's mind, what emotions are racing through her heart and gripping her senses.
I cannot know how weak and distraught and lonely she must feel upon hearing that her mum's health has taken a turn for the worse.
What does it feel to hear from your own mother that she thinks she may not survive for much longer? What does trauma does it do to a child to see your beloved mother become a sack of skin and bone, with a belly bloated with fluids?
I am not sure what words of consolation I can offer my friend.... what could I possibly write, what could I possibly say, even if I were the most eloquent person who can so masterfully juggle words and emotions, to soothe the pain and creeping loss of a child...?
Am I not someone who often feels that pain and creeping sense of loss when I hear the weakness and frailty of my own mum's voice...?
What can I offer her, but my deepest sympathies, my well-wishes... and my tears?
My friend lives across the ocean, in a different time zone, in a different place, in a different life. And yet, her pain resembles that of mine, her feelings of being torn between living a life of your own and being there to support your mother in times of need, echo that of my own.
I of course cannot know exactly what is going through my friend's mind, what emotions are racing through her heart and gripping her senses.
I cannot know how weak and distraught and lonely she must feel upon hearing that her mum's health has taken a turn for the worse.
What does it feel to hear from your own mother that she thinks she may not survive for much longer? What does trauma does it do to a child to see your beloved mother become a sack of skin and bone, with a belly bloated with fluids?
I am not sure what words of consolation I can offer my friend.... what could I possibly write, what could I possibly say, even if I were the most eloquent person who can so masterfully juggle words and emotions, to soothe the pain and creeping loss of a child...?
Am I not someone who often feels that pain and creeping sense of loss when I hear the weakness and frailty of my own mum's voice...?
What can I offer her, but my deepest sympathies, my well-wishes... and my tears?
11 May 2011
Radiotherapy
Mum sounded distracted when I called, and she broke the news that the hospital called her to start radiotherapy as soon as tomorrow afternoon. Just last week, she went in to make a mould of her neck and head to facilitate the targeted, localised treatment of the tumour in her spine.
"Tomorrow....? Tomorrow already?" I was surprised and began to shiver. What will happen? What side-effects will she experience? How will she cope with the new treatment all by herself? Twelve days of treatment, day after day, day after day... I'm so scared just hearing that, so terrified...
She said she'll be fine, and that's it's nothing to worry about. An online search of the term radiotherapy brings up words like long term fatigue, constant dryness of the mouth and throat, and nausea. And if it is in the neck area, it may affect swallowing, and in turn ability and the appetite to eat- further endangering mum's health when her White blood cell count is already very low.
"I have a ticket to return this week..." I said. I've been dragging my feet for a while, wondering about whether to make changes to it, or whether to pack my bags and fly off again. To be honest I really don't want to leave, I really am so tired of travelling, of being displaced again and again....
But I am so very scared, so very very frightened by the possibility that if I stay here and if something goes horribly wrong, I will regret it.
"Tomorrow....? Tomorrow already?" I was surprised and began to shiver. What will happen? What side-effects will she experience? How will she cope with the new treatment all by herself? Twelve days of treatment, day after day, day after day... I'm so scared just hearing that, so terrified...
She said she'll be fine, and that's it's nothing to worry about. An online search of the term radiotherapy brings up words like long term fatigue, constant dryness of the mouth and throat, and nausea. And if it is in the neck area, it may affect swallowing, and in turn ability and the appetite to eat- further endangering mum's health when her White blood cell count is already very low.
"I have a ticket to return this week..." I said. I've been dragging my feet for a while, wondering about whether to make changes to it, or whether to pack my bags and fly off again. To be honest I really don't want to leave, I really am so tired of travelling, of being displaced again and again....
But I am so very scared, so very very frightened by the possibility that if I stay here and if something goes horribly wrong, I will regret it.
Something good
We may argue and experience tensions here and there, but somehow something always brings us back together. I cannot say for sure what it is that brings us together... is it his touch, is it the innocent expression on his face, is it the thought of not wanting to prolong the hurt because of my own stubbornness and mistakes?
One thing that I treasure, among many things, in my relationship is our ability to talk things over. We may have gone to sleep in separate beds, in the morning, in the wake of drying traces of tears, we bonded and reconnected, and by sunset, we were happily cycling next to one another to that special place by the edge of the river we both enjoy so much.
My first real relationship ('real' in the sense that we are both living in the same city, instead of being separated, as my first relationship was, some ten years ago), now going into its fifth month (or two and something years, if you count from the time we first met and connected...). There have been many things I have had to learn about myself, about the other person, about being together, about boundaries and personal spaces. Learning to admit your own flaws, learning to say sorry and realise when you are wrong are important; just as important as it is to know that there is no shame and that the other person will not think less of you when you admit your own human flaws and imperfections. I can be a difficult person to decipher, be someone who is too sensitive and needs reassurance. And through him, I see and learn more and more about myself, much more than all the time I have been alone and so deluded by my own self-perception.
Of course, not all days and moments together can be happy and filled with laughter, but those moments of tension pale in the warmth and comfort I feel when we are together. I guess both of us have had to learn a lot about one another's habits and personalities, have had adapt and accommodate, as any one would in any kind of relationship. In any relationship, when two people come together and try to walk the same path in the same direction and at the same speed, both people come with old baggage that must be shared or slowly let go of...
He came out of a long term relationship, and I am just beginning to realise (again) what it means to be with someone, to love. We are in different stages of our lives, with different experiences, and naturally will have different expectations, of one another, from one another. But somewhere, somehow we managed to meet, and finally managed to come together after a long time of hesitation and uncertainty. There is beauty in this coming together, and when I think back at what process we went through to come together, we value our relationship even more.
I do not know where we are headed, for no body ever knows. I do know, and little by little I let him know, how much appreciate his presence, treasure our being together, and how sometimes I lie next to him and think that it all feels too much like a dream to be with someone I care about, think about, and love.
09 May 2011
Heartbreaking...
We come home after along, romantic day and wonderful dinner together, my boyfriend and I. As I was preparing to go to bed, I find him leaning over the computer with a mutual friend of ours, browsing through porn sites.
Admittedly, I do that too sometimes, but one thing led to another, and he logged onto a site where you can watch and chat live with guys who are 'pleasuring' themselves on webcam for the world to see. Just joking around, he said. Chatting and getting to know someone jerking their penis in front of the webcam, worse still someone who appears to be living in the area.
How very funny. I made it clear how hurt I was, and walked away to take a hot shower. In my mind, all the accumulation of insecurities and uncertainties about our relationship started flooding back. How could he just do that without thinking in front of my face, in my own home? How could he just start chatting up someone naked online, and call that joking around? Maybe he did it without thinking, maybe it was just a spur of the moment naughtiness that caught and brought out something in him he could not control.... But if he can do this in front of me, how do I know what happens when I am not around?
I am hurt, more hurt than angry actually, that I just don't have anything else to say and went to sleep in the next room. He keeps on texting me, trying to apologise through text messages, even though I am just next door. What is so difficult about just walking next door and apologising in person? What can be more reassuring and earnest than looking in someone's eyes and saying sorry?
Again, I am made to feel so uncertain about our relationship, especially in the wake of my boyfriend going to a concert recently with a friend with whom he had a passionate relationship with as early as November. If my boyfriend could just log onto a site and start chatting with a random stranger in front of me, how do I know if he is not exchanging flirtatious emails, text messages or phone calls with the guy on a regular basis without me knowing? How do I know if when he is tapping away on his phone he is not writing to the guy? I cannot know, even though it would be so easy to just clandestinely pick up his phone and check his messages. But I'm not going to do that, because I trust him, because I believe in him when he says he chose me and does not look back. But today, this heartbreaking episode just put all that trust into doubt... Have I not done enough in our relationship to deserve this kind of behaviour? Have I not shown enough affection and love toward him that makes his heart or mind wander? Have I not opened myself up enough and exposed myself to let him into the deepest and most hidden parts of my life that I have rarely before revealed to anyone? Perhaps the hurt comes from believing so naively that I could open myself up and be comfortable with someone. Hurt from, directly or indirectly, an act of betrayal, even if he never intended it to be that way....
I don't know what to say, how to start the conversation, what I must or should say, if anything. Just before we left to dinner, I bought him a bunch of roses, and I planned to lay them on our bed just before snuggling in together. In a fit of anger, I could have just thrown those roses away, tore them into bits and pieces, or not given them to him at all....
But why, for it is not the fault of the roses. They are so beautiful, so fragile and so very symbolic of something beyond their colours and textures... They are so delicate, and yet have thorns that could cut and make you bleed.
How heartbreaking to have what was a romantic surprise ruined by an unexpected episode like this....
Admittedly, I do that too sometimes, but one thing led to another, and he logged onto a site where you can watch and chat live with guys who are 'pleasuring' themselves on webcam for the world to see. Just joking around, he said. Chatting and getting to know someone jerking their penis in front of the webcam, worse still someone who appears to be living in the area.
How very funny. I made it clear how hurt I was, and walked away to take a hot shower. In my mind, all the accumulation of insecurities and uncertainties about our relationship started flooding back. How could he just do that without thinking in front of my face, in my own home? How could he just start chatting up someone naked online, and call that joking around? Maybe he did it without thinking, maybe it was just a spur of the moment naughtiness that caught and brought out something in him he could not control.... But if he can do this in front of me, how do I know what happens when I am not around?
I am hurt, more hurt than angry actually, that I just don't have anything else to say and went to sleep in the next room. He keeps on texting me, trying to apologise through text messages, even though I am just next door. What is so difficult about just walking next door and apologising in person? What can be more reassuring and earnest than looking in someone's eyes and saying sorry?
Again, I am made to feel so uncertain about our relationship, especially in the wake of my boyfriend going to a concert recently with a friend with whom he had a passionate relationship with as early as November. If my boyfriend could just log onto a site and start chatting with a random stranger in front of me, how do I know if he is not exchanging flirtatious emails, text messages or phone calls with the guy on a regular basis without me knowing? How do I know if when he is tapping away on his phone he is not writing to the guy? I cannot know, even though it would be so easy to just clandestinely pick up his phone and check his messages. But I'm not going to do that, because I trust him, because I believe in him when he says he chose me and does not look back. But today, this heartbreaking episode just put all that trust into doubt... Have I not done enough in our relationship to deserve this kind of behaviour? Have I not shown enough affection and love toward him that makes his heart or mind wander? Have I not opened myself up enough and exposed myself to let him into the deepest and most hidden parts of my life that I have rarely before revealed to anyone? Perhaps the hurt comes from believing so naively that I could open myself up and be comfortable with someone. Hurt from, directly or indirectly, an act of betrayal, even if he never intended it to be that way....
I don't know what to say, how to start the conversation, what I must or should say, if anything. Just before we left to dinner, I bought him a bunch of roses, and I planned to lay them on our bed just before snuggling in together. In a fit of anger, I could have just thrown those roses away, tore them into bits and pieces, or not given them to him at all....
But why, for it is not the fault of the roses. They are so beautiful, so fragile and so very symbolic of something beyond their colours and textures... They are so delicate, and yet have thorns that could cut and make you bleed.
How heartbreaking to have what was a romantic surprise ruined by an unexpected episode like this....
06 May 2011
Gratitude
There are people you meet in life that unknowingly and unexpectedly bring great changes and surprises to you life. They are people you always feel a connection toward, feel a great deal of gratitude toward, however long time passes.
This week, one such person in my life came to visit, partly to attend the conference I've been helping out at. I invited her to dinner at my place, and showed her how much of a positive influence she has been in my life.
Over the two day conference, we would occasional meet in the corridors, and talk about how we used to work together, reminisce those crazy days staying late at the office in the run-up to the event we were organising together. She began as my boss, and soon became like an older sister, who guided me, gave me advice and inspiration, and helped me obtain opportunities that I otherwise would never have realised or known existed. In difficult times, when I lost my dad, she was there to support me, emotionally and also in my work while I was on leave. Even now, when I mention her, I am filled with such gratitude and praise for all that she has done to help me transition into a new phase of my life here in Canada.
Last night, at an alumni dinner, as professors spoke about how the institute is like a family, I really felt I was so lucky to be in that room, all thanks to my friend and mentor. As the evening ended, I went up to her and toasted her.
"Thank you for everything you've done to change my life," I said, as I lifted up my half full glass of wine. She looked visibly touched, and gave a a pat on the shoulder as she said she is proud of me. Proud of me, even though deep down I feel like I've not really achieved much academically or professionally in the past two years or so. Proud of me, because life does not always need to be measured in the number of articles you can publish, the number of books you've read or number of speeches you have given.
"I believe in you", she said, "I'm waiting for you to write something one day", alluding to the fact that she has for a long time been admiring my writings, and hopes that one day I could write something and be published. As she left, she gave me a book, Girl in Translation, written by a friend of hers, which I immediately began reading, and liking.
Yes, there are people you meet in life who so unexpectedly bring into life great changes, who believe in you and fill you with ambition and hope. And my friend and mentor is one of these people I am often so grateful toward and humbled in having the great fortune of meeting.
This week, one such person in my life came to visit, partly to attend the conference I've been helping out at. I invited her to dinner at my place, and showed her how much of a positive influence she has been in my life.
Over the two day conference, we would occasional meet in the corridors, and talk about how we used to work together, reminisce those crazy days staying late at the office in the run-up to the event we were organising together. She began as my boss, and soon became like an older sister, who guided me, gave me advice and inspiration, and helped me obtain opportunities that I otherwise would never have realised or known existed. In difficult times, when I lost my dad, she was there to support me, emotionally and also in my work while I was on leave. Even now, when I mention her, I am filled with such gratitude and praise for all that she has done to help me transition into a new phase of my life here in Canada.
Last night, at an alumni dinner, as professors spoke about how the institute is like a family, I really felt I was so lucky to be in that room, all thanks to my friend and mentor. As the evening ended, I went up to her and toasted her.
"Thank you for everything you've done to change my life," I said, as I lifted up my half full glass of wine. She looked visibly touched, and gave a a pat on the shoulder as she said she is proud of me. Proud of me, even though deep down I feel like I've not really achieved much academically or professionally in the past two years or so. Proud of me, because life does not always need to be measured in the number of articles you can publish, the number of books you've read or number of speeches you have given.
"I believe in you", she said, "I'm waiting for you to write something one day", alluding to the fact that she has for a long time been admiring my writings, and hopes that one day I could write something and be published. As she left, she gave me a book, Girl in Translation, written by a friend of hers, which I immediately began reading, and liking.
Yes, there are people you meet in life who so unexpectedly bring into life great changes, who believe in you and fill you with ambition and hope. And my friend and mentor is one of these people I am often so grateful toward and humbled in having the great fortune of meeting.
happy birthday!
Mum sounded cheerful when I called her. Though I was I. A daze still, after having slept late helping to organise a conference, it completely escaped me what day it was until she said "Oh you must have called to wish me happy birthday!"
And wish her happy birthday I did. A few days ago she already received my birthday card and gifts. I had nothing more to add than wish her happiness and good health, a life free of worry an free of pain. Mum said a number of people called her, including my brother and my sister in law , as well as friends and oddly enough her real estate agent ( who actually went to the trouble of buying her a lovely cake!)
It's been a difficult time for her, and in Taiwan the 59th year is often seen as a unsettling one, a kind of obstacle just before reaching the great age of 60, which symbolises a complete cycle in life. ( as they say life begins at 60)...
She said she went to the hospital yesterday and made a plaster mould of her head and neck in preparation for a long 12 session radiotherapy she intends to undergo. "the doctor said it'll keep the tumour in the spine under control and shrink it somewhat." the hope is that she will have less aches and sores and be less dependent on painkillers, which over the last two months she has gradually needed to increase the dosage and frequency of intake. "Hopefully by the end of it all, I'll be ok to travel to see you".
Yes, I wish her happiness, good health, and that she can again travel the world which
she so much enjoys doing, more than anything else....
And wish her happy birthday I did. A few days ago she already received my birthday card and gifts. I had nothing more to add than wish her happiness and good health, a life free of worry an free of pain. Mum said a number of people called her, including my brother and my sister in law , as well as friends and oddly enough her real estate agent ( who actually went to the trouble of buying her a lovely cake!)
It's been a difficult time for her, and in Taiwan the 59th year is often seen as a unsettling one, a kind of obstacle just before reaching the great age of 60, which symbolises a complete cycle in life. ( as they say life begins at 60)...
She said she went to the hospital yesterday and made a plaster mould of her head and neck in preparation for a long 12 session radiotherapy she intends to undergo. "the doctor said it'll keep the tumour in the spine under control and shrink it somewhat." the hope is that she will have less aches and sores and be less dependent on painkillers, which over the last two months she has gradually needed to increase the dosage and frequency of intake. "Hopefully by the end of it all, I'll be ok to travel to see you".
Yes, I wish her happiness, good health, and that she can again travel the world which
she so much enjoys doing, more than anything else....
03 May 2011
What is important
Mum kept on telling me to go to bed, as it was way past midnight. She likes to scold me when I go to sleep after midnight, because growing up she has told me countless times that the body, or at least certain organs, need complete rest between eleven at night and two in the morning.
But I felt like talking to her, and it has been a good while since I last spoke for more than half an hour with her. Perhaps I felt like talking to her, listening to her thoughts and what she has been up to, because earlier in the evening a dear friend, whom I have not met for a while, came over for dinner. We caught up and exchanged notes on life and its counterpart, death. She and I have both lost people dear in our lives in recent years, and in that loss is a bond of humanity we share. A sense of humanity in remembering people who touched us once, and still touch us when we think of them... a sense of humanity in longing, in mourning, in overcoming pain with the recognition that life goes on, life must go on, even after someone is gone. It is a rare sense of humanity that makes us human, makes us know and appreciate that in this great big world there are others who share your pain, share your loss, and who are not afraid to reach out to comfort you in times of need.
"What is important in life...?" mum said at one point in the conversation. More a rhetorical question than anything else, for really, at the end of the day, what is more important in life when it is so fragile, so short? The more I encounter troubles people make, noises people brew, conflicts and hatred people foster, the more I feel like detaching myself from it all.
What is important in life... beyond the titles, the signs of material wealth, the sense of self-importance and sense of self-righteousness we are so vulnerable and susceptible to illness and death that can wipe everything away.
In no way is it thinking or being nihilistic or suggesting that there is no purpose in life. But sometimes it helps to stop, to shut out the world around you, and reflect on what is really important in life....
Sutty
She lay quietly in her metal cage, and was disinterested by all the noise and people around her, just as all the people and noise seemed to be disinterested in her. I spotted her, and knew almost immediately it was her. A shiny, smooth black coat, little white paws, big, innocent looking eyes that somehow elicited my pity ever since I first laid eyes on her and her sad life story on her online profile. Out of all the cats available that day for adoption, I chose her, and she came home with me, perhaps reluctantly, that afternoon. And ever since we have been together.
Two years it already has been... Those first nights Sutty (then known as Panda) would cry, as if homesick, and she would often hide or move away when I approach her. Today, she struts around as if she were queen of the household, head held high, relaxed and quietly monitoring everything that goes on.
I don't know what she is thinking when she sits by the window and watches the world go by... I don't know whether she feels confined or trapped in ( as someone put it) a "golden jail" being the resident cat in her new home. But I do know and am forever appreciative of the joy and warmth she has brought to my life.
The way she jumps up and down when we play together, the way she naughtily paws tomatoes and oranges I accidentally drop on the floor, the way she drinks water with her paws, the way she walks around my pillow before I fall asleep everynight... Little actions, little purrs that make me feel loved and wanted.
At times, I left her alone for weeks or months at a time... But not a day goes by when I do not think of her little head butts, little paws, and little crazy dashes around the apartment. And patiently she waits for me at home, to welcome me home faithfully and lovingly however long I have been away.
She is a special cat, full of mischief, full of life, full of character. And she, my little sweetheart, is my little black and white cat.
Two years it already has been... Those first nights Sutty (then known as Panda) would cry, as if homesick, and she would often hide or move away when I approach her. Today, she struts around as if she were queen of the household, head held high, relaxed and quietly monitoring everything that goes on.
I don't know what she is thinking when she sits by the window and watches the world go by... I don't know whether she feels confined or trapped in ( as someone put it) a "golden jail" being the resident cat in her new home. But I do know and am forever appreciative of the joy and warmth she has brought to my life.
The way she jumps up and down when we play together, the way she naughtily paws tomatoes and oranges I accidentally drop on the floor, the way she drinks water with her paws, the way she walks around my pillow before I fall asleep everynight... Little actions, little purrs that make me feel loved and wanted.
At times, I left her alone for weeks or months at a time... But not a day goes by when I do not think of her little head butts, little paws, and little crazy dashes around the apartment. And patiently she waits for me at home, to welcome me home faithfully and lovingly however long I have been away.
She is a special cat, full of mischief, full of life, full of character. And she, my little sweetheart, is my little black and white cat.
28 April 2011
Surprise gift
Next week is mum's birthday, when she'll be turning 59. The other day i momentarily relived last year's celebration, for it was the first tine in a long time that brother and me (and at the time, my sister in law) were there to celebrate mum's birthday. I can still remember her face when she saw brother walk through that door unannounced, having flown half way across the world to be there on that special say. How mum laughed and smiled as she held onto that beautiful bouquet of flowers...
I wanted to be there for mum this year, but it's barely been two months since I got back, and as important as I personally feel it is for me to be there, the fatigue of travelling, of being displaced from the comforts of my own home again, was simply too much to handle...
So instead I'll make my 'presence' felt through my absence, and I'm going to send her a little gift box. At first I didn't know what to buy mum, but my boyfriend who had just recently returned from southern France bought a lovely card with a field of lavender, and some lavender-perfumed products. Mum always loved the smell of lavender, and how soothing and calming it is, so I told my boyfriend that would be a very suitable gift, and that mum would undoubtedly be very touched. I myself bought her some coffee beans covered with dark chocloate, one of her favourites....
I was touched by the mere fact that my boyfriend thought of my mum, and remembered how I once told him about her love of the smell and sight of lavender. Today, he took the time and effort to even write in 'Happy Birthday' to her in traditional Chinese characters. As he tried to copy the difficult strokes and lines, he became somewhat frustrated that it wasn't perfect (partly also because I said there was a little mistake). I know he was really doing his best, and i tried to reassure him. perhaps he wanted to impress my mum, and he felt like he messed it up. I may not have been very patient with him, I admit, but i was proud of him for trying.
Perhaps i should have told him that there and then, told him how special I felt that card meant to me, and I believe will also be to my mum. Especially at this time when she is experiencing pain and feeling weak, all the bits of care and compassion will do wonders...
Little words, little gestures, I have always believed touch people in so many ways. And I so hope that receiving the gift package from my boyfriend and me, mum will experience moments of joy and laughter, and hope, from the heartwarming thought that somewhat out there she is cared about and loved
.
I wanted to be there for mum this year, but it's barely been two months since I got back, and as important as I personally feel it is for me to be there, the fatigue of travelling, of being displaced from the comforts of my own home again, was simply too much to handle...
So instead I'll make my 'presence' felt through my absence, and I'm going to send her a little gift box. At first I didn't know what to buy mum, but my boyfriend who had just recently returned from southern France bought a lovely card with a field of lavender, and some lavender-perfumed products. Mum always loved the smell of lavender, and how soothing and calming it is, so I told my boyfriend that would be a very suitable gift, and that mum would undoubtedly be very touched. I myself bought her some coffee beans covered with dark chocloate, one of her favourites....
I was touched by the mere fact that my boyfriend thought of my mum, and remembered how I once told him about her love of the smell and sight of lavender. Today, he took the time and effort to even write in 'Happy Birthday' to her in traditional Chinese characters. As he tried to copy the difficult strokes and lines, he became somewhat frustrated that it wasn't perfect (partly also because I said there was a little mistake). I know he was really doing his best, and i tried to reassure him. perhaps he wanted to impress my mum, and he felt like he messed it up. I may not have been very patient with him, I admit, but i was proud of him for trying.
Perhaps i should have told him that there and then, told him how special I felt that card meant to me, and I believe will also be to my mum. Especially at this time when she is experiencing pain and feeling weak, all the bits of care and compassion will do wonders...
Little words, little gestures, I have always believed touch people in so many ways. And I so hope that receiving the gift package from my boyfriend and me, mum will experience moments of joy and laughter, and hope, from the heartwarming thought that somewhat out there she is cared about and loved
.
27 April 2011
Weaker
The last few times I spoke to mum, she has audibly been weaker. It's the chemotherapy therapy every two weeks. Even if she tries hard to recover from the sideffects by eating healthy, exercising and resting well, nothing can dispel the toll that the deadly doses of chemicals that she has been injected with has on her mental and physical wellbeing. Even if mum supplements her western medicines with traditional, herbal treatments, there is only so much the body can take... Especially when she has to undergo much of it alone...
A few days ago she said her White blood cell has dropped to 3000 from all the chemotherapy she has been doing. A 'normal' count is 4500-10000 units, and White blood cells are the essential part of the body that keeps diseases and infections at bay... a low count is reflected in tiredness, and fatigue, which by the sounds of it mum is experiencing.
Just calling her, I could hear she was at the oncology ward receiving her seventh invitro chemotherapy since she began early December. When will it stop? How much more cAn she bear? And most important of all, is her condition overall improving? All I can do, however feeble, however poor, however irrelevant, is send mum my goodwishes and prayers when I sit and meditate in silence.
I hate to call her everyday an just talk about her illness, because it reminds her constantly that she is ill, and that I am concerned, even from such a great distance. She always tells me not to worry, not to let things affect my mood and my work...
But it is hard not to, especially being so far away and so powerless to do anything about things... And increasingly I feel I am not really able to talk about things to people, because frankly I feel my problems and fears are burdening them. Even to my boyfriend, however well-intentioned and willing he is to share my burdens, I now only occasionally mention things on my mind and the state of mum's health when he asks.
This blog, regardless of whether anyone reads it, regardless of the quality or the repetitiveness of the writing, is a powerful outlet for me to vent my frustrations and fears when life deals blows to me and to loved ones around me, time and time again. It is what keeps me from breaking down, from just losing that precious, precious gift of hope, and longing that one day I can look back at this all and realise I am able to overcome one of life's most challenging tasks of dealing with sickness and death...
A few days ago she said her White blood cell has dropped to 3000 from all the chemotherapy she has been doing. A 'normal' count is 4500-10000 units, and White blood cells are the essential part of the body that keeps diseases and infections at bay... a low count is reflected in tiredness, and fatigue, which by the sounds of it mum is experiencing.
Just calling her, I could hear she was at the oncology ward receiving her seventh invitro chemotherapy since she began early December. When will it stop? How much more cAn she bear? And most important of all, is her condition overall improving? All I can do, however feeble, however poor, however irrelevant, is send mum my goodwishes and prayers when I sit and meditate in silence.
I hate to call her everyday an just talk about her illness, because it reminds her constantly that she is ill, and that I am concerned, even from such a great distance. She always tells me not to worry, not to let things affect my mood and my work...
But it is hard not to, especially being so far away and so powerless to do anything about things... And increasingly I feel I am not really able to talk about things to people, because frankly I feel my problems and fears are burdening them. Even to my boyfriend, however well-intentioned and willing he is to share my burdens, I now only occasionally mention things on my mind and the state of mum's health when he asks.
This blog, regardless of whether anyone reads it, regardless of the quality or the repetitiveness of the writing, is a powerful outlet for me to vent my frustrations and fears when life deals blows to me and to loved ones around me, time and time again. It is what keeps me from breaking down, from just losing that precious, precious gift of hope, and longing that one day I can look back at this all and realise I am able to overcome one of life's most challenging tasks of dealing with sickness and death...
26 April 2011
Wondering...
The past, the story of how we came to be together, is filled with ups and downs. As wonderful and comforting the presence of his body and breath next to mine, at times, I cannot help but wonder what my boyfriend is thinking of...
Perhaps a lot of it are just imaginations feeding off of my own insecurity. To be fair, I have only myself to blame, and I cannot ask too much of my boyfriend. So if he says he wants to go to a concert with the boy he had an intense but short-lived relationship with, who I am to say no, even if I am uncomfortable with the idea?
To be honest, till this day, I still feel so insecure when I think back to those days in December, those days filled with tears, uncertainty and jealousy. I feel insecure when I am reminded of the intimate moments they shared, and it makes me wonder whether they are writing to one another, or speaking to one another when I am not around... Last I heard was that my boyfriend does not want to tell the other person that we are in a relationship, for fear of hurting the other guy's feelings. It is understandable, but part of me cannot shake off the idea that perhaps the other person is still waiting, still clinging onto hope of starting something with my boyfriend-- something I am partly responsible for breaking apart... And is not going to a concert filled with songs about love and relationships not pushing the limits?
But, really, who am I to say to my boyfriend he cannot see this or that person or restrict him from having contact with people in his past relationships? To to that would be just being a petty and vicious person who is trying to horde all of someone's affection and attention. Everyone has a past, and that is no different for my boyfriend (or for me for that matter...). He had relationships with different people before, he shared things and memories with other lovers before me, and those memories are there to stay. My boyfriend decided to be with me, and since those tumultuous days, we have had so many beautiful moments and laughs together. What is important is that he is with me now, and we should look forward to making a future together, to sharing our lives and experiences together instead of dwelling on things that have already happened...
Maybe there is nothing to worry about, because it is all in my mind. Maybe, as my boyfriend was humming this song to me the other day, he was trying to tell me something. I am someone who needs assurance, who needs to be told again and again that things are alright, because I have a tendency to think of the worst. Even if I do sometimes wonder whether his mind wonders when he is with me, we have come a long way since then, and it would be a shame if I cannot shake off all these feelings of insecurity deep down inside...
Perhaps a lot of it are just imaginations feeding off of my own insecurity. To be fair, I have only myself to blame, and I cannot ask too much of my boyfriend. So if he says he wants to go to a concert with the boy he had an intense but short-lived relationship with, who I am to say no, even if I am uncomfortable with the idea?
To be honest, till this day, I still feel so insecure when I think back to those days in December, those days filled with tears, uncertainty and jealousy. I feel insecure when I am reminded of the intimate moments they shared, and it makes me wonder whether they are writing to one another, or speaking to one another when I am not around... Last I heard was that my boyfriend does not want to tell the other person that we are in a relationship, for fear of hurting the other guy's feelings. It is understandable, but part of me cannot shake off the idea that perhaps the other person is still waiting, still clinging onto hope of starting something with my boyfriend-- something I am partly responsible for breaking apart... And is not going to a concert filled with songs about love and relationships not pushing the limits?
But, really, who am I to say to my boyfriend he cannot see this or that person or restrict him from having contact with people in his past relationships? To to that would be just being a petty and vicious person who is trying to horde all of someone's affection and attention. Everyone has a past, and that is no different for my boyfriend (or for me for that matter...). He had relationships with different people before, he shared things and memories with other lovers before me, and those memories are there to stay. My boyfriend decided to be with me, and since those tumultuous days, we have had so many beautiful moments and laughs together. What is important is that he is with me now, and we should look forward to making a future together, to sharing our lives and experiences together instead of dwelling on things that have already happened...
Maybe there is nothing to worry about, because it is all in my mind. Maybe, as my boyfriend was humming this song to me the other day, he was trying to tell me something. I am someone who needs assurance, who needs to be told again and again that things are alright, because I have a tendency to think of the worst. Even if I do sometimes wonder whether his mind wonders when he is with me, we have come a long way since then, and it would be a shame if I cannot shake off all these feelings of insecurity deep down inside...
Dream...
There was so much pain and suffering in the dream I dreamt in that state of subconsciousness and lying barely awake in the early hours of the morning.
I could see my cat, her black fur turned grey, and much thinned compared to its normally very soft and shiny texture. She was crying out in pain, her face and eyes full of sorrow as she miauwed with agony. I looked closer, and saw her skin was rife with pox, uneven bumps and oozing pus. It was such a horrible, horrible sight. I wanted to pet her and comfort her, but she weakly raised her front paws and as if to gesture me to stop before she scurried away with her tail between her hind legs... I watched her disappear, and turned to look around me... So strange it was that I was surrounded by faces of people closest to me in life. Faces of my family, my mother, my friends....
I could see my cat, her black fur turned grey, and much thinned compared to its normally very soft and shiny texture. She was crying out in pain, her face and eyes full of sorrow as she miauwed with agony. I looked closer, and saw her skin was rife with pox, uneven bumps and oozing pus. It was such a horrible, horrible sight. I wanted to pet her and comfort her, but she weakly raised her front paws and as if to gesture me to stop before she scurried away with her tail between her hind legs... I watched her disappear, and turned to look around me... So strange it was that I was surrounded by faces of people closest to me in life. Faces of my family, my mother, my friends....
25 April 2011
news
"Are you crying?" she asked, as she continued describing her condition. No, I wasn't crying but I was very close to. My boyfriend sat next to me, stroked my hand to comfort me, even though I kept on mouthing to tell him to continue playing tennis. We had gotten up especially early to play tennis, and I felt bad that I was taking his precious time sitting next to me.
Mum went in to the hospital today, and saw the neurosurgeon. In the last few days, the pain in her left arm, shoulder and back has intensified, even worse than ever before. It's so intense sometimes that she starts sweating from the pain she's feeling... It's so intense whether sitting down, lying down or walking, she feels he pain, and it's overwhelming her concentration and thoughts...
I cannot but feel sorry for her... But there's nothing, absolutely boning I can do from this distance to alleviate her pain and sorrow. Even if I were right next to her, I cannot help her, for so helpless, so useless am I. She received new painkillers from the doctor, but really the best is to operate to remove the large tumour pressing down on her spine and nerves. If not done soon, the entire spine collapse and leave her completely immobile. "That would be worse than death," mum said... But operating may very well cancel her plans to come see me, may very well mean that she has to be hospitalised for some time to come.
In moments like this, there is no conclusion, no certainty, no joy. All I could do was muster all my courage to assure her, to tell her to take good care and to bear with the pain, even if deep down my mind and my world is thrown into confusion and despair. Scenes of packing up, boarding a plane and leaving flashed across my mind...
To add to the pain, mum moved onto talking about my late father, and to remember how very caring and loving he was, what sacrifices he made and what he left behind for us all... That only triggered images of his face, his smile, his death, and my sorrow.
By the end of the conversation I was exhausted, drained. Perhaps also the result if very few hours if sleep, but I just wanted to crawl into bed and hide under the security of my blanket. Just sleep it all away, so I can hide in the darkest and most well hidden places of dreams and nightmares.
But I felt more guilty that my friend wanted to stay with me, to make sure I am alright, even though he does not know fully what is going on in my mind at this moment... I dont feel like talking, i feel myself shut down, partly as a measure of self protection, partly because I don't want to infect anyone, especially not him, with my negativity and burden him with the heavy weight on my shoulder.
There are such feelings of helplessness, of utter despair, and of guilt... I don't want to feel this way, I don't want the pity or to take the time if others to have to come and pick me up and drag the confidence and happiness out of me...
Originally I wanted to swing by his place and to work together with him at a table ( something we both find so cute and so productive) But I just wanted to go home, to be lane to collect my mind and thouhgts.
Worse still, we were planning to go to a pop concert tonight, and because of all this, really I am not in the mood of going anymore. Yet that also means he doesn't want to go, all because of me and my problems. Who am I to ruin other people's feelings and happiness with my problems and insecurities?
I could not help mum and take her pain away... I ruined a perfectly wonderful day for my boyfriend... what next ? In moments like this there is no conclusion, no joy, no answer. But I cannot keep in feeling like this because it affects not only me, but the feelings of people I care about most...
Mum went in to the hospital today, and saw the neurosurgeon. In the last few days, the pain in her left arm, shoulder and back has intensified, even worse than ever before. It's so intense sometimes that she starts sweating from the pain she's feeling... It's so intense whether sitting down, lying down or walking, she feels he pain, and it's overwhelming her concentration and thoughts...
I cannot but feel sorry for her... But there's nothing, absolutely boning I can do from this distance to alleviate her pain and sorrow. Even if I were right next to her, I cannot help her, for so helpless, so useless am I. She received new painkillers from the doctor, but really the best is to operate to remove the large tumour pressing down on her spine and nerves. If not done soon, the entire spine collapse and leave her completely immobile. "That would be worse than death," mum said... But operating may very well cancel her plans to come see me, may very well mean that she has to be hospitalised for some time to come.
In moments like this, there is no conclusion, no certainty, no joy. All I could do was muster all my courage to assure her, to tell her to take good care and to bear with the pain, even if deep down my mind and my world is thrown into confusion and despair. Scenes of packing up, boarding a plane and leaving flashed across my mind...
To add to the pain, mum moved onto talking about my late father, and to remember how very caring and loving he was, what sacrifices he made and what he left behind for us all... That only triggered images of his face, his smile, his death, and my sorrow.
By the end of the conversation I was exhausted, drained. Perhaps also the result if very few hours if sleep, but I just wanted to crawl into bed and hide under the security of my blanket. Just sleep it all away, so I can hide in the darkest and most well hidden places of dreams and nightmares.
But I felt more guilty that my friend wanted to stay with me, to make sure I am alright, even though he does not know fully what is going on in my mind at this moment... I dont feel like talking, i feel myself shut down, partly as a measure of self protection, partly because I don't want to infect anyone, especially not him, with my negativity and burden him with the heavy weight on my shoulder.
There are such feelings of helplessness, of utter despair, and of guilt... I don't want to feel this way, I don't want the pity or to take the time if others to have to come and pick me up and drag the confidence and happiness out of me...
Originally I wanted to swing by his place and to work together with him at a table ( something we both find so cute and so productive) But I just wanted to go home, to be lane to collect my mind and thouhgts.
Worse still, we were planning to go to a pop concert tonight, and because of all this, really I am not in the mood of going anymore. Yet that also means he doesn't want to go, all because of me and my problems. Who am I to ruin other people's feelings and happiness with my problems and insecurities?
I could not help mum and take her pain away... I ruined a perfectly wonderful day for my boyfriend... what next ? In moments like this there is no conclusion, no joy, no answer. But I cannot keep in feeling like this because it affects not only me, but the feelings of people I care about most...
23 April 2011
Old friend
I prepared the spare bedroom for her visit, and placed by the bedside a balloon I bought around two and a half years ago when she came to see me. Then, I was still trying to find my steps in Montreal, and who would have known only two and something years later, I'd have my own little place I call home, and my lovely little cat.
She and I have always had a special bond, perhaps because of our somewhat opposite personalities. I admire her for her courage, her aspirations and dreams, despite coming from a rough childhood... And I guess she admires me for my ability to care and extend a hand to others, and my ability to remain calm despite the odds of life. So in many ways, we are a great match, and since we met on university, we've had a great many wonderful adventures together.
An episode caused a strain on our relationship, and we were not really in touch for a few months. Even so, I think there's a bind between us that will not easily sever. We had shared many memories together, many tears, many personal and dark secrets that only she and I know about. She was there when I received the phone call that dad was breathing his last breaths... And I vividly remember she shed tears for my pain. And I was there, as a complete surprise, to accompany her on a very difficult journey to discover her past. We've had long conversations, emails exchanges, slept next to one another. It's like a relationship we had, but even better in some ways because there was none of the complications of love, jealousy that can tear couple apart. It was a relationship of respect, trust, and genuine care for one another's wellbeing and personal growth.
I took her to the river bank yesterday afternoon and just sat and watched he river flow by.
So vast the river was, and how small we both felt. Yet over the sound of the flowing river, we reminded one another of stories, exchanged lives and realised how far we have come since we first met, since that union of an unlikely duo between a scared and worried me and a confused, frustrated her.
"do you remember....?" Yes, there are many things and experiences that have tied our lives together. She as establishing her life in the Netherlands, and I was just about to take my first steps towarda Canada. Somehow, in that two years of so our lives merged before we parted ways, we enriched one another's lives in so many ways.
"People in my life know about you," she said at one point. It just shows how significant an imprint we have made in our processes of self discovery, and acceptance of the individuals we both are.
We nay not have seen one another much in recent months, and we may not have communicated much either, but she is often in my mind, as I am I in hers.
She and I have always had a special bond, perhaps because of our somewhat opposite personalities. I admire her for her courage, her aspirations and dreams, despite coming from a rough childhood... And I guess she admires me for my ability to care and extend a hand to others, and my ability to remain calm despite the odds of life. So in many ways, we are a great match, and since we met on university, we've had a great many wonderful adventures together.
An episode caused a strain on our relationship, and we were not really in touch for a few months. Even so, I think there's a bind between us that will not easily sever. We had shared many memories together, many tears, many personal and dark secrets that only she and I know about. She was there when I received the phone call that dad was breathing his last breaths... And I vividly remember she shed tears for my pain. And I was there, as a complete surprise, to accompany her on a very difficult journey to discover her past. We've had long conversations, emails exchanges, slept next to one another. It's like a relationship we had, but even better in some ways because there was none of the complications of love, jealousy that can tear couple apart. It was a relationship of respect, trust, and genuine care for one another's wellbeing and personal growth.
I took her to the river bank yesterday afternoon and just sat and watched he river flow by.
So vast the river was, and how small we both felt. Yet over the sound of the flowing river, we reminded one another of stories, exchanged lives and realised how far we have come since we first met, since that union of an unlikely duo between a scared and worried me and a confused, frustrated her.
"do you remember....?" Yes, there are many things and experiences that have tied our lives together. She as establishing her life in the Netherlands, and I was just about to take my first steps towarda Canada. Somehow, in that two years of so our lives merged before we parted ways, we enriched one another's lives in so many ways.
"People in my life know about you," she said at one point. It just shows how significant an imprint we have made in our processes of self discovery, and acceptance of the individuals we both are.
We nay not have seen one another much in recent months, and we may not have communicated much either, but she is often in my mind, as I am I in hers.
22 April 2011
dealing with people
To be honest, I have always been somewhat of a loner. Though not the 'classic loner' who is content being alone and left alone, but someone who enjoys time alone, but at the sane time crave human contact and care.
A lot has changed in the past few years, and a pot I have had to face. And deal with, all as part of growing up. More and more I'm realising who I am, what kind of person I can be. There are sides of me that even i find endearing. But there are also flaws in my character that make me someone who is difficult to get close to, and difficult to comprehend.
And being in a relationship, especially my first one where I live in the same city as my partner makes me realise more and more about myself and how I am seen by others. There is a loving side of me that I have rarely wanted ti admit, let alone appreciated-- a side that as my boyfriend and I are getting more steady, I see coming out and surprising even me. Who would have thought I'd just spontaneously just want to kiss him or hold his hand as we're walking down the street? It feels so natural, so affectionate, and there is I think no greater gesture how much you care (dare I say love?) someone than wanting to feel his body and warmth, and not being afraid to do so in public.
But there are sides of me that come out too when we have disagreements or when I feel tensions between us. So far, most things have come and gone within a short period of time, and we always seem able to talk things through and 'make up' relatively quickly. In those moments of tensions or frustrations, I see just how clearly how impure the mind can so easily become, how things can sit and simmer, how I am a typical kind of passive-aggressive type who when upset 'shuts down/out' and becomes cold and silent and almost impenetrable, or even very defensive. Of course, it usually takes two to argue or have a difference of opinion, but I realise more and more sometimes when the heat of the moment is gone, the anger, frustration goes too. And it never hurts to admit and say out loud that you've been wrong (or been wronged), because after all we are all human, and all trying to find our place in this world, in living with one another in peace.
And I for one is a slow beginner trying to make sense of myself and how I can relate and live with others.
A lot has changed in the past few years, and a pot I have had to face. And deal with, all as part of growing up. More and more I'm realising who I am, what kind of person I can be. There are sides of me that even i find endearing. But there are also flaws in my character that make me someone who is difficult to get close to, and difficult to comprehend.
And being in a relationship, especially my first one where I live in the same city as my partner makes me realise more and more about myself and how I am seen by others. There is a loving side of me that I have rarely wanted ti admit, let alone appreciated-- a side that as my boyfriend and I are getting more steady, I see coming out and surprising even me. Who would have thought I'd just spontaneously just want to kiss him or hold his hand as we're walking down the street? It feels so natural, so affectionate, and there is I think no greater gesture how much you care (dare I say love?) someone than wanting to feel his body and warmth, and not being afraid to do so in public.
But there are sides of me that come out too when we have disagreements or when I feel tensions between us. So far, most things have come and gone within a short period of time, and we always seem able to talk things through and 'make up' relatively quickly. In those moments of tensions or frustrations, I see just how clearly how impure the mind can so easily become, how things can sit and simmer, how I am a typical kind of passive-aggressive type who when upset 'shuts down/out' and becomes cold and silent and almost impenetrable, or even very defensive. Of course, it usually takes two to argue or have a difference of opinion, but I realise more and more sometimes when the heat of the moment is gone, the anger, frustration goes too. And it never hurts to admit and say out loud that you've been wrong (or been wronged), because after all we are all human, and all trying to find our place in this world, in living with one another in peace.
And I for one is a slow beginner trying to make sense of myself and how I can relate and live with others.
17 April 2011
Dad's pillow case
I was cleaning up the recently evacuated spare room, and on the bookshelf I saw a box I've not seen or touched for many months.
It's a box with inside a light green pillow case, the very pillow case dad had slept on just before he passed away. I opened it, and gave it a sniff... That scent, is it still as I remember it, that smell I have when my hair is a little greasy having not washed it for a day or two? Or perhaps my longing and missing is playing tricks on my memory and smell sensation...
I peeked inside the box, but dared not open the wrapping around the pillow case. I'm afraid to see the strands of hair dad lost, afraid to see a blood stain he made in those final days...
Quietly I put the box away, till another day when I feel up to opening it, and opening up my memories...
It's a box with inside a light green pillow case, the very pillow case dad had slept on just before he passed away. I opened it, and gave it a sniff... That scent, is it still as I remember it, that smell I have when my hair is a little greasy having not washed it for a day or two? Or perhaps my longing and missing is playing tricks on my memory and smell sensation...
I peeked inside the box, but dared not open the wrapping around the pillow case. I'm afraid to see the strands of hair dad lost, afraid to see a blood stain he made in those final days...
Quietly I put the box away, till another day when I feel up to opening it, and opening up my memories...
By the river
Feeling down, weighed down by news of my ex-flatmate's continuing rumour-spreading, I jumped on my bike and biked toward the river.
It's windy, cold, not quiet yet Spring, but already the land and the river is awake from Winter's deep sleep. I had a sudden urge to call my mum, so I called her.
"listen to the water, mum," I said, " when you come, I want to take you here..." somehow that was an emotional moment, one that made my heart ache a little , and my eyes water.
There was a strong strong wind, chilling on my cheeks, roaring through the as-yet bare trees and wild waves...
It's windy, cold, not quiet yet Spring, but already the land and the river is awake from Winter's deep sleep. I had a sudden urge to call my mum, so I called her.
"listen to the water, mum," I said, " when you come, I want to take you here..." somehow that was an emotional moment, one that made my heart ache a little , and my eyes water.
There was a strong strong wind, chilling on my cheeks, roaring through the as-yet bare trees and wild waves...
16 April 2011
At the ballet
I started planning this day for a few weeks now, ever since I started seeing posters advertising Moulin Rouge- the Ballet at metro stations downtown. Since my boyfriend and I never really had Valentines Day together, I have been planning an occasion to organise something special, and it seemed the perfect opportunity.
Moulin Rouge is a wonderful love story, involving romance, jealousy, separated lovers and death. When I first watched the movie a few years ago, I was so touched that I cried in the latter half of the film. At the time, fresh in my first relationship, I was just beginning to experience and feel what the power of love is, and what it drives people to do. So today, going to watch the performance with my boyfriend has more significance.
I wasn't really sure how he would respond to the ballet, and in fact he actually screwed up his face when he realised where we were going... He's not really a fan of classical arts, and that initial reaction was extremely disappointing to see, especially as I wanted to bring in a little element of surprise and excitement.
During the performance, whenever the stage darkened for a scene change, I would steal little kisses, and almost throughout we held one anothers hands. It was a warming and enjoyable two hours together, though I'm kind of unsure what he really thought of the show... but the music, colourful dresses and elegant movements of the dancers brought to life a beautiful love story before us on stage, and I think toward the end he was more surprised by the performance.
Happy Valentines!
Moulin Rouge is a wonderful love story, involving romance, jealousy, separated lovers and death. When I first watched the movie a few years ago, I was so touched that I cried in the latter half of the film. At the time, fresh in my first relationship, I was just beginning to experience and feel what the power of love is, and what it drives people to do. So today, going to watch the performance with my boyfriend has more significance.
I wasn't really sure how he would respond to the ballet, and in fact he actually screwed up his face when he realised where we were going... He's not really a fan of classical arts, and that initial reaction was extremely disappointing to see, especially as I wanted to bring in a little element of surprise and excitement.
During the performance, whenever the stage darkened for a scene change, I would steal little kisses, and almost throughout we held one anothers hands. It was a warming and enjoyable two hours together, though I'm kind of unsure what he really thought of the show... but the music, colourful dresses and elegant movements of the dancers brought to life a beautiful love story before us on stage, and I think toward the end he was more surprised by the performance.
Happy Valentines!
"I wish her well..."
"I wish her well..." I have said that a couple of times since my former flatmate moved out of my apartment. Perhaps I have said that a couple of times too many that it sounds so jaded and fake....
Perhaps to the outside world, I may seem heartless to kick a poor girl who has no stable income out onto the streets, but two weeks after she moved out, a number of her belongings are still in my apartment and taking up space. I wrote to her a week ago, asking her to move her things as soon as possible, but so far I have not received a reply. Perhaps the tone of my message was too direct, because I basically wrote that after all I have done in the past few months to accommodate her, the least she could do is move her things when she moves out. No reply...
Instead, word got back to me that the girl may have even telling a mutual friend that I am lying about my mum's impending visit just to get rid of her... Imagine that... Lying about a visit I have been hoping and planning for two years to get rid of someone who has been staying in my apartment for free for seven months! Why, if I wanted to get rid of her, do I need to have a reason in my own house, for which I am paying the rent? I had given her more than ample time to move, and she turns around to 'bite' me like this... Perhaps I should have kicked her out sooner rather than now, much later, after she has gotten comfortable living off of me...
The situation really makes me feel frustrated and hurt, and I really am not in the mood for confrontation. All I want is my room back, all of it. I just don't want to have to see boxes of her things every time I walk into that room and be reminded that she was ever around. Even today, two weeks after she moved out, she still has my key, and can at any moment just walk back into my apartment without notice.
If I am seen as mean and ill-willed, then so be it. But really, deep down inside, I just wish to get rid of what has been a negative and exhausting influence in my life for the last couple of months and put this all episode behind me. Even after hearing rumours that she is telling people things about me behind my back, I harbour no ill feelings to her. In fact, I feel sorry for her... How can anyone have such short term memory and conveniently forget the things I've done to help her get on her feet, and just think of e as mean-spirited as soon as I ask her to leave my house? If someone were to help me and shelter me for so long and do so not expecting anything in return, the least I could do is show a little gratitude, and not start spreading untrue rumours or play the innocent victim being forcibly evicted.
"I wish her well..." I really do, as fake and as hypocritical perhaps as it may sound. But I know how I feel toward her, and that is enough.
Perhaps to the outside world, I may seem heartless to kick a poor girl who has no stable income out onto the streets, but two weeks after she moved out, a number of her belongings are still in my apartment and taking up space. I wrote to her a week ago, asking her to move her things as soon as possible, but so far I have not received a reply. Perhaps the tone of my message was too direct, because I basically wrote that after all I have done in the past few months to accommodate her, the least she could do is move her things when she moves out. No reply...
Instead, word got back to me that the girl may have even telling a mutual friend that I am lying about my mum's impending visit just to get rid of her... Imagine that... Lying about a visit I have been hoping and planning for two years to get rid of someone who has been staying in my apartment for free for seven months! Why, if I wanted to get rid of her, do I need to have a reason in my own house, for which I am paying the rent? I had given her more than ample time to move, and she turns around to 'bite' me like this... Perhaps I should have kicked her out sooner rather than now, much later, after she has gotten comfortable living off of me...
The situation really makes me feel frustrated and hurt, and I really am not in the mood for confrontation. All I want is my room back, all of it. I just don't want to have to see boxes of her things every time I walk into that room and be reminded that she was ever around. Even today, two weeks after she moved out, she still has my key, and can at any moment just walk back into my apartment without notice.
If I am seen as mean and ill-willed, then so be it. But really, deep down inside, I just wish to get rid of what has been a negative and exhausting influence in my life for the last couple of months and put this all episode behind me. Even after hearing rumours that she is telling people things about me behind my back, I harbour no ill feelings to her. In fact, I feel sorry for her... How can anyone have such short term memory and conveniently forget the things I've done to help her get on her feet, and just think of e as mean-spirited as soon as I ask her to leave my house? If someone were to help me and shelter me for so long and do so not expecting anything in return, the least I could do is show a little gratitude, and not start spreading untrue rumours or play the innocent victim being forcibly evicted.
"I wish her well..." I really do, as fake and as hypocritical perhaps as it may sound. But I know how I feel toward her, and that is enough.
Disappointment
Earlier this week, mum told me that she intends to come visit me soon, and just yesterday I opened my inbox to a surprise email from my uncle cheerfully entitled ¨Mum can go to Canada now!¨
How happy I was, so happy I could have jumped from my seat. There was a date, provisionally 27 May, and there were all these plans, of flying first to the West Coast of Canada, then taking the Rocky Mountaineer that she always dreamed of taking, and then staying with me in Montreal for a while before she heads to Europe to visit brother (and hopefully also the sister-in-law, if she is able to be there, pending immigration approval...)
So wonderful, it all sounds. Imagine the beauty that can be enjoyed, the fun that can be had, the memories that can be made. For the last couple of weeks mum has been telling me how she's been preping herself for the trip, how she has been diligently exercising everyday so she can regain her health and strength to make a long trip overseas... I, on this side of the world, have been looking at places I could take her, browsing websites for prices, times and schedules, and imagining how close I am to fulfilling that dream of mine of welcoming her to my Canadian home...
And then today, she wasn't so sure any more. She woke up with a sore back, and her arm has started hurting again. It comes and goes, of course, but what if she is on the road and starts to suffer unbearable pain? "It probably isn't a good idea to travel for so long, and to be so far away from home..."
I was disappointed, but I cannot blame her. "Just wait and see how things go..." I was disappointed, but in a way, it is not unexpected. The state of mum's health is no longer like it used to be, and she cannot just pack her bags and leave like other people. Maybe part of the fear is premature, but there is always a risk that something serious may happen on the road, and then what will we do, especially if we are far away from her doctors who know her condition? Plans and bookings are now on hold. She is going to see a doctor next week and is very likely going to start a new treatment. Who knows how she will feel after that...
I guess we'll just have to wait and see, and not celebrate too soon, even though I have been telling friends and neighbours that my mum is (maybe) finally coming, health pending.
How happy I was, so happy I could have jumped from my seat. There was a date, provisionally 27 May, and there were all these plans, of flying first to the West Coast of Canada, then taking the Rocky Mountaineer that she always dreamed of taking, and then staying with me in Montreal for a while before she heads to Europe to visit brother (and hopefully also the sister-in-law, if she is able to be there, pending immigration approval...)
So wonderful, it all sounds. Imagine the beauty that can be enjoyed, the fun that can be had, the memories that can be made. For the last couple of weeks mum has been telling me how she's been preping herself for the trip, how she has been diligently exercising everyday so she can regain her health and strength to make a long trip overseas... I, on this side of the world, have been looking at places I could take her, browsing websites for prices, times and schedules, and imagining how close I am to fulfilling that dream of mine of welcoming her to my Canadian home...
And then today, she wasn't so sure any more. She woke up with a sore back, and her arm has started hurting again. It comes and goes, of course, but what if she is on the road and starts to suffer unbearable pain? "It probably isn't a good idea to travel for so long, and to be so far away from home..."
I was disappointed, but I cannot blame her. "Just wait and see how things go..." I was disappointed, but in a way, it is not unexpected. The state of mum's health is no longer like it used to be, and she cannot just pack her bags and leave like other people. Maybe part of the fear is premature, but there is always a risk that something serious may happen on the road, and then what will we do, especially if we are far away from her doctors who know her condition? Plans and bookings are now on hold. She is going to see a doctor next week and is very likely going to start a new treatment. Who knows how she will feel after that...
I guess we'll just have to wait and see, and not celebrate too soon, even though I have been telling friends and neighbours that my mum is (maybe) finally coming, health pending.
13 April 2011
Tribute
The other day, I sat in my kitchen and quietly sipped my cup of tea. Chamomille with a dab of maple syrup. As I drank it, I thought of a lady I never knew, but even so, I smiled at the thought.
It may seem so strange, but a friend of mine contacted me recently and said that that very day would be her mother's first birthday after her death late last year. She said she would not be sad and would not be crying. Instead, my friend said she would make her usual cup of morning coffee and toast to her mother, to the "grande dame" who she was. She asked if I could do the same, even though it may seem so "silly"...
I was honoured that she would even ask me to commemorate her, and of course I did exactly that without any second thoughts. I wrote back to her, and sent her a picture of my steaming cup of tea. "Of course it is not 'silly'" I wrote to her. I also do the same every year, at different times of the year when I commemorate my dad's life. Little rituals, like writing to him, burning a packet of cigarettes or cooking his favourite dishes, offer not only comfort to the living, but also comfort to those who have already gone, I believe. "Silly" little rituals and actions remind us, and our loved ones, that they are and always will be a part of our lives...
As I sat and drank my tea, I was warmed inside by imaginations of what my friend's mother looked like, what she sounded and smelled like. My thoughts drifted to Carmen, who passed away this time last year, and I felt terribly guilty that being so consumed with my own life, I forgot to commemorate her passing or even write to her daughter, which I had been meaning to do.... My mind drifted also to the mother of another friend, whose mother has been in and out of hospital for a number of years, battling a seemingly formidable cancer... And my mind drifted to my own mother, to how I would commemorate her when she is gone...
Sometimes when you slow down to think of your own life, and the lives of others, many things in this world do not seem to matter much any more.
It may seem so strange, but a friend of mine contacted me recently and said that that very day would be her mother's first birthday after her death late last year. She said she would not be sad and would not be crying. Instead, my friend said she would make her usual cup of morning coffee and toast to her mother, to the "grande dame" who she was. She asked if I could do the same, even though it may seem so "silly"...
I was honoured that she would even ask me to commemorate her, and of course I did exactly that without any second thoughts. I wrote back to her, and sent her a picture of my steaming cup of tea. "Of course it is not 'silly'" I wrote to her. I also do the same every year, at different times of the year when I commemorate my dad's life. Little rituals, like writing to him, burning a packet of cigarettes or cooking his favourite dishes, offer not only comfort to the living, but also comfort to those who have already gone, I believe. "Silly" little rituals and actions remind us, and our loved ones, that they are and always will be a part of our lives...
As I sat and drank my tea, I was warmed inside by imaginations of what my friend's mother looked like, what she sounded and smelled like. My thoughts drifted to Carmen, who passed away this time last year, and I felt terribly guilty that being so consumed with my own life, I forgot to commemorate her passing or even write to her daughter, which I had been meaning to do.... My mind drifted also to the mother of another friend, whose mother has been in and out of hospital for a number of years, battling a seemingly formidable cancer... And my mind drifted to my own mother, to how I would commemorate her when she is gone...
Sometimes when you slow down to think of your own life, and the lives of others, many things in this world do not seem to matter much any more.
letter from a friend
Two days ago, I received an email from a friend, someone I've known for a couple of years, and with whom I communicate from time to time. Though we're in different countries, each doing our own thing, one aspect of our life is so invariably tied together, and that is our love and worry for our mothers.
In the latest email, she said her mother is suffering intolerable pain, and has lost all appetite. It hurts even for her to walk, my friend said, and being away from her mother, my friend is so often filled with guilt.
It pains me to read about her mother, what she is going through, and just to imagine the worry and stress that my friend experiences on a day to day, or perhaps moment to moment, basis. I write back, comforting her, assuring her, try to give my friend the comfort and care she needs, and deserves. but I wish there were much more I could do to take her pain, and the pains of her mother, away...
Maybe this is what brings us two together. This deep deep understanding, this ability not to feel like you are burdening someone (or at times talking to a brick wall) when you pour out your feelings about how much seeing our mothers in pain and slowly slip away is maybe what connects us. Maybe more than anyone, we can (almost) fully understand, we can fully empathise what the other person is going through. Other people may be able to offer words of sympathy, a hug or a pat on the shoulder, but unless you have seen and experienced your loved slowly have their mental and physical strength and will to live eaten away by a terrible terrible disease, you can never really know, can never really understand- however well intentioned the person is...
My feelings and my heart go out to you, my friend....
In the latest email, she said her mother is suffering intolerable pain, and has lost all appetite. It hurts even for her to walk, my friend said, and being away from her mother, my friend is so often filled with guilt.
It pains me to read about her mother, what she is going through, and just to imagine the worry and stress that my friend experiences on a day to day, or perhaps moment to moment, basis. I write back, comforting her, assuring her, try to give my friend the comfort and care she needs, and deserves. but I wish there were much more I could do to take her pain, and the pains of her mother, away...
Maybe this is what brings us two together. This deep deep understanding, this ability not to feel like you are burdening someone (or at times talking to a brick wall) when you pour out your feelings about how much seeing our mothers in pain and slowly slip away is maybe what connects us. Maybe more than anyone, we can (almost) fully understand, we can fully empathise what the other person is going through. Other people may be able to offer words of sympathy, a hug or a pat on the shoulder, but unless you have seen and experienced your loved slowly have their mental and physical strength and will to live eaten away by a terrible terrible disease, you can never really know, can never really understand- however well intentioned the person is...
My feelings and my heart go out to you, my friend....
11 April 2011
Visit
Finally after 10 days, my ex-flatmate came by and cleared up her room. She still has four boxes and a suitcase left in there, and she's promised to come back again to clear things away, but at least I can go in there and walk around without having to mind what I'm stepping on!
The room is not quiet free to use yet, and I've not yet let the cat back to her rightful place of abode. The very first thing I did when I got home was to spray the entire room with anti-bug spray- and lots of it! With all sorts of complaints my friend had about bedbugs, and more recently scabies, I can't be too carefully... I'll let the room air for a few days and soon it should be back to being my - and the cat's- space again, for the first time in over 7 months!
And it's about time too. Again, for maybe the fifth time in the past month or so, mum said she's gearing herself to come visit me, something she's been saying for two years already but never had the opportunity to. She says she's been exercising and living healthily to maintain her strength and health so she may come visit soon.
I dare not ask when that soon is, and when she talks about visiting, I am of course overjoyed to have her, for it has been like a dream and goals to have her see how well I've settled down here.
But...but deep down inside there is this horrible fear, horrible negativity and pessimism that something may change between her announcing her intention to come visit, and her actually getting here. So many uncertainties, so many factors depending on her health remaining more or less stable... Somehow, at timed when I am relishing in my relative happiness and freedom here, a dark thought crosses my mind to remind me how fragile all this could be, and how everything could so easily change with the sudden ringing of my phone at anytime, anywhere.
It's dreadful to live in a state of fear and u known...
The room is not quiet free to use yet, and I've not yet let the cat back to her rightful place of abode. The very first thing I did when I got home was to spray the entire room with anti-bug spray- and lots of it! With all sorts of complaints my friend had about bedbugs, and more recently scabies, I can't be too carefully... I'll let the room air for a few days and soon it should be back to being my - and the cat's- space again, for the first time in over 7 months!
And it's about time too. Again, for maybe the fifth time in the past month or so, mum said she's gearing herself to come visit me, something she's been saying for two years already but never had the opportunity to. She says she's been exercising and living healthily to maintain her strength and health so she may come visit soon.
I dare not ask when that soon is, and when she talks about visiting, I am of course overjoyed to have her, for it has been like a dream and goals to have her see how well I've settled down here.
But...but deep down inside there is this horrible fear, horrible negativity and pessimism that something may change between her announcing her intention to come visit, and her actually getting here. So many uncertainties, so many factors depending on her health remaining more or less stable... Somehow, at timed when I am relishing in my relative happiness and freedom here, a dark thought crosses my mind to remind me how fragile all this could be, and how everything could so easily change with the sudden ringing of my phone at anytime, anywhere.
It's dreadful to live in a state of fear and u known...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)