300512.1121
I woke up, and it was already past ten in the morning. The longest and uninterrupted sleep I've had in weeks. The stress of dealing with my passport seems to have subsided, especially after the immigration officer at the Taiwanese "embassy" said there's nothing I have to really worry about regarding military service, since I left the country well before the military service age (15 is the cut off date). I have my visa, one for three months, and now it's just a matter of boarding a flight.
And which one and when is the big question. Mum did not go to ER the other day when she was feeling unwell. She did not want to go through the noise and trouble of the hospital. Instead, they just went to a clinic for iv drips, and she said (said...) she felt better.
Her condition remains unstable, and brother told me frankly that it may not be long till...
He was upset that he called dozens of times when I was asleep, at 2AM, 6AM, 8AM... I didn't hear anything. To my surprise I saw six missed called when I finally did wake up, and I trembled as I dialled.
It was just a "drill". Even so, I trembled as I listened to brother remind me the importance of keeping my phone constantly next to me, next to my pillow at night, on my person etc, just in case. "Be on standby mode!" he said, "There may come a time when mum wants to talk to you, and it may be the last time. If you miss that chance, I don't know..."
"I know, I understand", I said. It would be devastating. Devastating. Like a traumatic trauma I must deal with for the rest of my life if I never had the chance to really say goodbye, either in person or on the phone.
Brother and I spoke for almost an hour again. He told me about further arrangements he had made, and about how the insurance company paid out a large sum of money to more than cover the medical costs over the last year or so. So financially there's nothing much to worry about. And he said he decided to stay on, to extend his sabbatical, which means it'll Br unpaid leave from July onwards. I assured him I will take care of whatever needs he has. There was an affirmation that we would be there for another whatever comes. It is important for us, as siblings to make this bond before our last remaining passes on. And it is also important for mum to see, so close to the end of her life, that we are reconciling, and that we can work together and understand one another to deal with the most difficult and challenging things in life...
Three of mum's closest friends, together with a lawyer, came by today to redraft her will. Originally she intended to leave some for her youngest sister, but she's been a great disappoint over the past month or so. The sister promised me and my mum that she would come up to be with her and cook for her as soon as mum left the hospital, so mum can restore her health. Nobody has heard from my aunt since I left at the beginning of May. The will also has to be redrafted so that the siblings cannot squabble over her pension, which can only go to nationals of the country-- which we the children are not.
Brother said the hospice nurse will come visit next week now that the hospice agreement has finally gone through. We now know for sure that it was my aunt (mum's brother's wife) who cancelled the instruction for hospice care. And the other day when my brother asked her about it, her response was "Was that necessary?" The hospice nurse confirmed it. It is a very disappointing revelation.
The long talk ended. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down. I cried again. Cried myself to sleep. When I woke up less than half an hour later the sadness subsided.
Time to smile. Nobody has to know that I cried. Nobody except my stuffed animals and maybe my cat who lay lay feet and who probably wondered why I was sobbing close to her...
01 June 2012
31 May 2012
Wishing well
I'm so terribly distraught right now, a push, a slight impact can trigger the tears I'm holding back so forcefully. It's not a pretty sight to cry in broad public, right inside a museum...
I saw a wishing well, and normally I don't do it, but right now anything, any semblance of comfort or hope or blind faith seems to offer a temporary taste of refuge from the broken and fragile state of my mind and wrenching heart.
I threw in two coins... One wishing I can successfully return to mum's side at this critical juncture of her life... Two wishing I can leave the country without problems or complications, for I really need to have the freedom to develop and thrive and find myself after all that I'm going through and about to go through. The prospect of military service will crush my soul and break me mentally... And I am not sure I will recover again...
May my wishes come true.
I saw a wishing well, and normally I don't do it, but right now anything, any semblance of comfort or hope or blind faith seems to offer a temporary taste of refuge from the broken and fragile state of my mind and wrenching heart.
I threw in two coins... One wishing I can successfully return to mum's side at this critical juncture of her life... Two wishing I can leave the country without problems or complications, for I really need to have the freedom to develop and thrive and find myself after all that I'm going through and about to go through. The prospect of military service will crush my soul and break me mentally... And I am not sure I will recover again...
May my wishes come true.
DVDs
I saw it at the museum gift shop, and I had this urge to buy it. A collection of DVDs about Canada... Victoria, Vancouver, Nova Scotia, the Rockies, Toronto, Niagara Falls, Quebec City... All places that mum has been, mostly with me, some trips on her own when mum travelled with a friend of hers on tour.
Why did I want to buy this? I saw in my mind mum watching the DVDs, enjoying and reliving the memories of her trips around this amazing and beautiful nation on her bed.
Yes, it's a gruesome thought, but I mean it well... Lying there on the brink of life and death, is there anything more soothing, more comfortable than seeing the nature and wonders of Canada and seeing the places she has been before?
I hope soon I will be able to watch the clips with mum, and that we can smile...
Why did I want to buy this? I saw in my mind mum watching the DVDs, enjoying and reliving the memories of her trips around this amazing and beautiful nation on her bed.
Yes, it's a gruesome thought, but I mean it well... Lying there on the brink of life and death, is there anything more soothing, more comfortable than seeing the nature and wonders of Canada and seeing the places she has been before?
I hope soon I will be able to watch the clips with mum, and that we can smile...
Unwell
Brother suddenly called me in the evening (morning Taiwan time).
"I don't want to scare you..." he said, "And please don't worry or think too much, but mum said she wants to go the hospital."
Mum dislikes the hospital... She could hardly wait to get out of there. But today for the first time, she requested to return. I asked to speak to her.
"I just feel very weak, like there's no energy..." she mumbled. I struggled to hear her clearly. My heart pounded like it did almost five months ago, when I got "The Call". I began trembling. At that moment my friend dropped by. I had asked her to come by because I needed her help printing documents I need to apply for a visa home.
"please don't rush here... Stay where you are for a bit longer. You've been flying around too much. No need to "chia bua bing"" Meaning "turning the place upside down", or making a mountain out of a mole hill.
I spoke to mum a little more, but she was getting dressed to go. Brother took over the phone and tried to reassure me more. But I was beyond reassuring. I trembled and shook, even though I said I'd go sleep. I did not.
Not much later, I was holding our family portrait and sobbing heavily again. My friend placed an arm around me and tried to comfort me. I was beyond comforting, and sobbed even more. I felt the saltiness of my tears in the corner of my lips. I felt the snot run down my nose. I was distraught, anxious, petrified. I was so far, far away... I folded my arms before me and clenched my fists. I held myself tightly, for it was the closest way i could console myself. Eventually I stopped crying. And soon began to joke and laugh with my friend as she hugged me tightly that I must smell really bad because I've not had the time to shower since my long bike ride today. She said I smell no more different than before, which could be a compliment, or insult. That's why it was funny. That broke my flow of tears And made me smile.
"I can still smile, right? Smile and laugh?" I asked.
"Yes, you can," she said as she stroked my shoulders. And that's an amazing ability in the face of everything.
It is so painfully hard, gruellingly difficult these moments of unknown, these sudden phone calls that leave me gasping for breath and for sanity. But one day it will be all over...
One day it will all be over...
"I don't want to scare you..." he said, "And please don't worry or think too much, but mum said she wants to go the hospital."
Mum dislikes the hospital... She could hardly wait to get out of there. But today for the first time, she requested to return. I asked to speak to her.
"I just feel very weak, like there's no energy..." she mumbled. I struggled to hear her clearly. My heart pounded like it did almost five months ago, when I got "The Call". I began trembling. At that moment my friend dropped by. I had asked her to come by because I needed her help printing documents I need to apply for a visa home.
"please don't rush here... Stay where you are for a bit longer. You've been flying around too much. No need to "chia bua bing"" Meaning "turning the place upside down", or making a mountain out of a mole hill.
I spoke to mum a little more, but she was getting dressed to go. Brother took over the phone and tried to reassure me more. But I was beyond reassuring. I trembled and shook, even though I said I'd go sleep. I did not.
Not much later, I was holding our family portrait and sobbing heavily again. My friend placed an arm around me and tried to comfort me. I was beyond comforting, and sobbed even more. I felt the saltiness of my tears in the corner of my lips. I felt the snot run down my nose. I was distraught, anxious, petrified. I was so far, far away... I folded my arms before me and clenched my fists. I held myself tightly, for it was the closest way i could console myself. Eventually I stopped crying. And soon began to joke and laugh with my friend as she hugged me tightly that I must smell really bad because I've not had the time to shower since my long bike ride today. She said I smell no more different than before, which could be a compliment, or insult. That's why it was funny. That broke my flow of tears And made me smile.
"I can still smile, right? Smile and laugh?" I asked.
"Yes, you can," she said as she stroked my shoulders. And that's an amazing ability in the face of everything.
It is so painfully hard, gruellingly difficult these moments of unknown, these sudden phone calls that leave me gasping for breath and for sanity. But one day it will be all over...
One day it will all be over...
Mother bear
While waiting for my visa to be processed I decided to go to the canadian civilisation museum and watch an IMAX movie. It was about the arctic, and how global warming is affecting the polar bears.
The story follows the journey of a mother and her two cubs. So majestic, so elegant and beautiful... Like all mothers, she leads her children to survival, breastfeeds them, protects them from all dangers, and is willing to sacrifice her own life for that of her offspring. The way they cuddle, the way the mother plays with her young, the way she goes hunting for food and brings it home for the cubs to eat. It's love... Universal motherly love and compassion, motherly kindness and care...
I can't believe I started crying there and then. Not just once, buy several times throughout the movie. I could not be think of my own mother, how she has nursed me, nurtured me, raised me and (together with dad...) given me so much (and more) so that I will stand on my own feet one day.
I heart wrenches from the emotions of loss and pain, a strange feeling for she is still around, she is still alive, and I speak to her everyday. But I know, I know mum is leaving me soon...
And soon I must stand on my own feet... How can I keep from crying...?
The story follows the journey of a mother and her two cubs. So majestic, so elegant and beautiful... Like all mothers, she leads her children to survival, breastfeeds them, protects them from all dangers, and is willing to sacrifice her own life for that of her offspring. The way they cuddle, the way the mother plays with her young, the way she goes hunting for food and brings it home for the cubs to eat. It's love... Universal motherly love and compassion, motherly kindness and care...
I can't believe I started crying there and then. Not just once, buy several times throughout the movie. I could not be think of my own mother, how she has nursed me, nurtured me, raised me and (together with dad...) given me so much (and more) so that I will stand on my own feet one day.
I heart wrenches from the emotions of loss and pain, a strange feeling for she is still around, she is still alive, and I speak to her everyday. But I know, I know mum is leaving me soon...
And soon I must stand on my own feet... How can I keep from crying...?
Unwell
Brother suddenly called me in the evening (morning Taiwan time).
"I don't want to scare you..." he said, "And please don't worry or think too much, but mum said she wants to go the hospital."
Mum dislikes the hospital... She could hardly wait to get out of there. But today for the first time, she requested to return. I asked to speak to her.
"I just feel very weak, like there's no energy..." she mumbled. I struggled to hear her clearly. My heart pounded like it did almost five months ago, when I got "The Call". I began trembling. At that moment my friend dropped by. I had asked her to come by because I needed her help printing documents I need to apply for a visa home.
"please don't rush here... Stay where you are for a bit longer. You've been flying around too much. No need to "chia bua bing"" Meaning "turning the place upside down", or making a mountain out of a mole hill.
I spoke to mum a little more, but she was getting dressed to go. Brother took over the phone and tried to reassure me more. But I was beyond reassuring. I trembled and shook, even though I said I'd go sleep. I did not.
Not much later, I was holding our family portrait and sobbing heavily again. My friend placed an arm around me and tried to comfort me. I was beyond comforting, and sobbed even more. I felt the saltiness of my tears in the corner of my lips. I felt the snot run down my nose. I was distraught, anxious, petrified. I was so far, far away... I folded my arms before me and clenched my fists. I held myself tightly, for it was the closest way i could console myself. Eventually I stopped crying. And soon began to joke and laugh with my friend as she hugged me tightly that I must smell really bad because I've not had the time to shower since my long bike ride today. She said I smell no more different than before, which could be a compliment, or insult. That's why it was funny. That broke my flow of tears And made me smile.
"I can still smile, right? Smile and laugh?" I asked.
"Yes, you can," she said as she stroked my shoulders. And that's an amazing ability in the face of everything.
It is so painfully hard, gruellingly difficult these moments of unknown, these sudden phone calls that leave me gasping for breath and for sanity. But one day it will be all over...
One day it will all be over...
"I don't want to scare you..." he said, "And please don't worry or think too much, but mum said she wants to go the hospital."
Mum dislikes the hospital... She could hardly wait to get out of there. But today for the first time, she requested to return. I asked to speak to her.
"I just feel very weak, like there's no energy..." she mumbled. I struggled to hear her clearly. My heart pounded like it did almost five months ago, when I got "The Call". I began trembling. At that moment my friend dropped by. I had asked her to come by because I needed her help printing documents I need to apply for a visa home.
"please don't rush here... Stay where you are for a bit longer. You've been flying around too much. No need to "chia bua bing"" Meaning "turning the place upside down", or making a mountain out of a mole hill.
I spoke to mum a little more, but she was getting dressed to go. Brother took over the phone and tried to reassure me more. But I was beyond reassuring. I trembled and shook, even though I said I'd go sleep. I did not.
Not much later, I was holding our family portrait and sobbing heavily again. My friend placed an arm around me and tried to comfort me. I was beyond comforting, and sobbed even more. I felt the saltiness of my tears in the corner of my lips. I felt the snot run down my nose. I was distraught, anxious, petrified. I was so far, far away... I folded my arms before me and clenched my fists. I held myself tightly, for it was the closest way i could console myself. Eventually I stopped crying. And soon began to joke and laugh with my friend as she hugged me tightly that I must smell really bad because I've not had the time to shower since my long bike ride today. She said I smell no more different than before, which could be a compliment, or insult. That's why it was funny. That broke my flow of tears And made me smile.
"I can still smile, right? Smile and laugh?" I asked.
"Yes, you can," she said as she stroked my shoulders. And that's an amazing ability in the face of everything.
It is so painfully hard, gruellingly difficult these moments of unknown, these sudden phone calls that leave me gasping for breath and for sanity. But one day it will be all over...
One day it will all be over...
30 May 2012
Chocolates
I saw a box of chocolates at a store. The chocolates were being sold as part of a fundraising campaign. I already have bags of chocolates at home, accumulated from a recent spree to collect air miles. But upon closer look I did not hesitate again to make a donation and grab a box of chocolate coated almonds.
The campaign was for the Quebec foundation for the handicapped, and with pictures of wheelchairs, I imagine it is to raise funds to buy new equipment. The image of mum sitting in a wheelchair crossed my mind... I pushed her around in a wheelchair for a while, because she was at times simply too weak to stand on her two feet. Now she has become even weaker, and I can only imagine that wherever she goes, she goes in a wheelchair.
I have perhaps till now neglected how hard it is for wheelchair users to get around. Once, feeling playful, I sat in mum's wheelchair and tried to wheel myself around for ten minutes against the uneven pavement, the bumpy road surfaces, and the gradient slope of a hill. It was so very difficult. And from that day on I realised what obstacles wheelchair users face every day...
I put in a little contribution, for wheelchair users, for mum.
The campaign was for the Quebec foundation for the handicapped, and with pictures of wheelchairs, I imagine it is to raise funds to buy new equipment. The image of mum sitting in a wheelchair crossed my mind... I pushed her around in a wheelchair for a while, because she was at times simply too weak to stand on her two feet. Now she has become even weaker, and I can only imagine that wherever she goes, she goes in a wheelchair.I have perhaps till now neglected how hard it is for wheelchair users to get around. Once, feeling playful, I sat in mum's wheelchair and tried to wheel myself around for ten minutes against the uneven pavement, the bumpy road surfaces, and the gradient slope of a hill. It was so very difficult. And from that day on I realised what obstacles wheelchair users face every day...
I put in a little contribution, for wheelchair users, for mum.
Sleep well...
I was talking to brother about the ever-growing problem regarding my visa to return home, when mum woke up. It was one in the morning her time. I thought as she was up, might as well speak to her a bit.
She was in bed, and said she didn't really sleep at all. Restless, lying around and thinking... Perhaps like me last night. I did sleep till after four in the morning, after crying and listening to dharmma talks online. Perhaps mum is worried about my visa status, and yesterday when I spoke to her, she said she felt guilty for causing me so much "trouble". She told me not to go home again, but that is completely out of the question. How can I not go home and see my mother one last time? How could I ever live with myself if she were to move on without seeing me and without me by her side...? The pain would be so immense it would forever change my life...
Mum said she was hungry, and wanted so warm soya drink. She had difficulty propping up the pad, perhaps because it was too heavy for her now, so I could only see a corner of her face. She looked so painfully, painfully thin. Bone and skin, bulging eye socket and sunken cheek bones. But she is my mother, still my beautiful, beautiful mother... And I love her so, I care about her so, whatever she looks like.
"I didn't really eat much today. Not feeling like I have an appetite..." she said. I told her she should still eat a bit, eat whatever she can, eat many meals spread out over the day. As I said that, I felt I was being hypocritical, and I cried. She did not see that. Hypocritical, because I too have been eating very little, I too have lost my appetite. In fact, I feel like throwing up when I eat, and that is very severe.
"OK, go eat something, and rest. Listen to some music to relax. Don't think too much..." I said. I just remembered now that if I were there, I would add a put a few drops of lavender scented oil around her pillow. She always loves that smell, that soothing, calming smell. And she usually is able to fall asleep quicker being surrounded by that scent.
"Goodnight, mama... Sleep well," I wished her.
She was in bed, and said she didn't really sleep at all. Restless, lying around and thinking... Perhaps like me last night. I did sleep till after four in the morning, after crying and listening to dharmma talks online. Perhaps mum is worried about my visa status, and yesterday when I spoke to her, she said she felt guilty for causing me so much "trouble". She told me not to go home again, but that is completely out of the question. How can I not go home and see my mother one last time? How could I ever live with myself if she were to move on without seeing me and without me by her side...? The pain would be so immense it would forever change my life...
Mum said she was hungry, and wanted so warm soya drink. She had difficulty propping up the pad, perhaps because it was too heavy for her now, so I could only see a corner of her face. She looked so painfully, painfully thin. Bone and skin, bulging eye socket and sunken cheek bones. But she is my mother, still my beautiful, beautiful mother... And I love her so, I care about her so, whatever she looks like.
"I didn't really eat much today. Not feeling like I have an appetite..." she said. I told her she should still eat a bit, eat whatever she can, eat many meals spread out over the day. As I said that, I felt I was being hypocritical, and I cried. She did not see that. Hypocritical, because I too have been eating very little, I too have lost my appetite. In fact, I feel like throwing up when I eat, and that is very severe.
"OK, go eat something, and rest. Listen to some music to relax. Don't think too much..." I said. I just remembered now that if I were there, I would add a put a few drops of lavender scented oil around her pillow. She always loves that smell, that soothing, calming smell. And she usually is able to fall asleep quicker being surrounded by that scent.
"Goodnight, mama... Sleep well," I wished her.
Sleepless night
More tears, more crying...
It has become almost a nightly affair.
Just tears, flowing incessantly. Tears of fear, tears of caused by such deep hurt and deep deep disappointment and frustrations. Nothing, not even meditation or attempts to drown myself with drink can calm me down... No one, not even my friend's words of encouragements can console me enough to allow me to fall asleep after leaving me for the night.
Please, tears, please stop.
Please stop these painful tears from falling...
It has become almost a nightly affair.
Just tears, flowing incessantly. Tears of fear, tears of caused by such deep hurt and deep deep disappointment and frustrations. Nothing, not even meditation or attempts to drown myself with drink can calm me down... No one, not even my friend's words of encouragements can console me enough to allow me to fall asleep after leaving me for the night.
Please, tears, please stop.
Please stop these painful tears from falling...
29 May 2012
Lament
I am just trying to find a way in life,
I am just trying to deal with unexpected hurdles thrown at me and trying to make the most of things...
And yet it is just setback after setback, obstacle after obstacle, heartbreak and pain after disappointments and frustrations.
Nothing ever goes according to plan,
Nothing ever is simple.
This is life.
I am just trying to deal with unexpected hurdles thrown at me and trying to make the most of things...
And yet it is just setback after setback, obstacle after obstacle, heartbreak and pain after disappointments and frustrations.
Nothing ever goes according to plan,
Nothing ever is simple.
This is life.
28 May 2012
Dear mother...
I saw mum on skype today. I asked to. Was I prepared to? I don't
know. The first image stunned me. That is my mother. My own dear mother on that
screen... The same mother who raised me, who cleaned up after me, who scolded me when I was naughty, who stroked my head when I was good... the same mother who I cleaned up after until a few weeks ago, whom I scolded because I was frustrated and did not know how to deal with my emotions, the same mother whose skin I massaged in attempts to take away her physical pain, take away her emotional pain...
I cannot believe how thin she has become.
Her arm was just bone. It was not an arm, just a bone with yellowish skin. Her eyes bulged, her cheeks sunk deep into her skeletal structure. And yet she spoke like my mother, like the mother I have always known, like the mother I will also love and treasure no matter what... No matter how the cancer eats her up and no matter how the cancer finishes her off.
Dear mother, how seeing you is making me cry. How seeing you in this state is making me cry so much, even though I thought I was all cried out...
I cannot believe how thin she has become.
Her arm was just bone. It was not an arm, just a bone with yellowish skin. Her eyes bulged, her cheeks sunk deep into her skeletal structure. And yet she spoke like my mother, like the mother I have always known, like the mother I will also love and treasure no matter what... No matter how the cancer eats her up and no matter how the cancer finishes her off.
Dear mother, how seeing you is making me cry. How seeing you in this state is making me cry so much, even though I thought I was all cried out...
The longest talk
"Mum won't last till the end of the year..." brother said. The words washed over me. The words normally would affect me, make me breakdown and cry, cry, cry, but I did not feel much. Perhaps since that night two nights ago, sitting on the edge of the great waterfalls, I have become all cried out. Perhaps the waterfall drew all the tears out of me, perhaps the falls shook out whatever sobbing and sorrow there is inside of me. I felt guilty for not feeling much when brother told me mum may not have long. And yet, i said to him: "But didn't we know this? Isn't it better for her if she is in so much discomfort?"
Why do I not feel much? Is it because I've been away from her too long? I've not see her, held her, touched her for the longest time, it feels like. Every time mum and I speak, it's so brief and so superficial. There really isn't that much to talk about. Her day consists of waking up, eating what little she can, and then resting, massages to keep the sores away, medication to numb the pains in her arm. And my day? I try to tell her happy things, what I'm doing here, try to tell her about my life. But at the same time I feel guilty telling her about my travels and "fun" life when she is more or less bed-bound. And I'm not going to go into any details about my ex and I, for she would just worry that I have no one at all in this world. And she gas told mr so many times her greatest fear is her leaving me before I found someone who can and is willing to be with me, take care of me, and give me the love and support I need in the future...
Brother said they went to her main physician today. He did nothing. There was nothing to be done. The inflammation of the pancreas cannot be treated, for she has to stop eating for the swelling to go down. And mum cannot afford to stop eating, especially given how little she eats. Besides, perhaps it's more than a mere inflammation. It's probably the cancer eating through, spreading.
And brother said he went to see the family doctor because the forms i signed and the arrangements I had made for hospice care went "missing". Nothing was ever processed, so the hospital has no record of mum's decision for hospice care and no notice of the DNR form she previously signed. Brother rectified this, and soon there will be a hospice care worker visiting mum at home every few days.
I suspect my aunts (mum's sister and mum's brother's wife...) has something to do with it, that perhaps in my absence they told the nurses and doctors to belay the orders. If that is the case, it is such a great and unacceptable interference in our lives and shows such disrespect for mum's wishes. It is her life, it is our own family affairs, so what gives them the right to veto a decision that was taken unanimously by members of my immediate family?
"Her friend said according to Taiwanese tradition, mum may not survive past the Dragon Boat Festival..." brother said. I'm not sure why that is, and what the explanation for the belief is. But thinking back, Dad did pass away the day before the new year... Dragon Boat Festival, that's in four week's time...
Mum has lost even more weight, and whatever she manages to eat now is probably just sustaining her vital functions. "When can you get back here? How long will it take you?" Brother asked
"Within twenty four hours. I can be there within 24hours..."
"I'll let you know at the very first instance. Do make a note of the times of flights so you are ready to board any time."
"I know. I already have."
I already have... I already know the flights times and connection possibilities. My credit card is permanently credited, my suitcase is standing by and ready. The next trip will be one final one, and there are things, special things I am preparing to take with me. Clothes, pictures, memorabilia... memories of mum's life, of my role in hers, of her role in mine. Most things are packed and standing by, more or less ready to leave at a moment's notice...
But there is only just my heart, my mind, my soul still needs to prepare and brace for that day, for that moment. And my god how weak and tattered my heart is right now... How much I need to work on my heart, my soul, my mind to calmly weather whatever is coming ahead...
Why do I not feel much? Is it because I've been away from her too long? I've not see her, held her, touched her for the longest time, it feels like. Every time mum and I speak, it's so brief and so superficial. There really isn't that much to talk about. Her day consists of waking up, eating what little she can, and then resting, massages to keep the sores away, medication to numb the pains in her arm. And my day? I try to tell her happy things, what I'm doing here, try to tell her about my life. But at the same time I feel guilty telling her about my travels and "fun" life when she is more or less bed-bound. And I'm not going to go into any details about my ex and I, for she would just worry that I have no one at all in this world. And she gas told mr so many times her greatest fear is her leaving me before I found someone who can and is willing to be with me, take care of me, and give me the love and support I need in the future...
Brother said they went to her main physician today. He did nothing. There was nothing to be done. The inflammation of the pancreas cannot be treated, for she has to stop eating for the swelling to go down. And mum cannot afford to stop eating, especially given how little she eats. Besides, perhaps it's more than a mere inflammation. It's probably the cancer eating through, spreading.
And brother said he went to see the family doctor because the forms i signed and the arrangements I had made for hospice care went "missing". Nothing was ever processed, so the hospital has no record of mum's decision for hospice care and no notice of the DNR form she previously signed. Brother rectified this, and soon there will be a hospice care worker visiting mum at home every few days.
I suspect my aunts (mum's sister and mum's brother's wife...) has something to do with it, that perhaps in my absence they told the nurses and doctors to belay the orders. If that is the case, it is such a great and unacceptable interference in our lives and shows such disrespect for mum's wishes. It is her life, it is our own family affairs, so what gives them the right to veto a decision that was taken unanimously by members of my immediate family?
"Her friend said according to Taiwanese tradition, mum may not survive past the Dragon Boat Festival..." brother said. I'm not sure why that is, and what the explanation for the belief is. But thinking back, Dad did pass away the day before the new year... Dragon Boat Festival, that's in four week's time...
Mum has lost even more weight, and whatever she manages to eat now is probably just sustaining her vital functions. "When can you get back here? How long will it take you?" Brother asked
"Within twenty four hours. I can be there within 24hours..."
"I'll let you know at the very first instance. Do make a note of the times of flights so you are ready to board any time."
"I know. I already have."
I already have... I already know the flights times and connection possibilities. My credit card is permanently credited, my suitcase is standing by and ready. The next trip will be one final one, and there are things, special things I am preparing to take with me. Clothes, pictures, memorabilia... memories of mum's life, of my role in hers, of her role in mine. Most things are packed and standing by, more or less ready to leave at a moment's notice...
But there is only just my heart, my mind, my soul still needs to prepare and brace for that day, for that moment. And my god how weak and tattered my heart is right now... How much I need to work on my heart, my soul, my mind to calmly weather whatever is coming ahead...
27 May 2012
Weekend together again
A beautiful day of biking with my ex, visiting the little town of Niagara on the Lake, where we had been together some three years ago. A wonderful bike ride, reliving many past moments we shared enjoying the freedom of cycling, and freedom from all sorts of stresses, tensions, unpleasantness and events and occurrences out of our control.
Came back to the hotel room. "I need to make a phone call." to the boyfriend. He told me to take a shower and wait for him to return.
How bizarre I felt, and I turned silent. I felt cheap, like a mistress on the side. That is who I am, right, as to my surprise my ex's boyfriend has no idea of where he is and who he is with. A most unfortunate set of circumstances, but who am I to judge? I told him so many times to talk to his boyfriend, to tell him the truth, but there's always something in the way, always a reason to delay telling the truth, always a reason to play with two people and toy with emotions.
What is so difficult, I wonder? He tells me he has never loved anyone like he does (or did?) me, so what is stopping him from ending a relationship that seems to be going nowhere? Comfort, "fun", not willing to break the other guy's heart? Or is the boyfriend just an escape, a distraction away from his new and apparently difficult working life in a big city where he knows no one?
Problems unsolved will only get worse and worse. My friends pity my ex's boyfriend, who seems to know nothing and seems to be in for a terrible heartbreak, who has no idea that my ex has been so lost and confused without me. Nobody pities my ex, because frankly he got himself into this situation, and he should have dealt with things long ago. He should have dealt with things and stopped pretending to have a relationship when he realised how he cannot seem to be without me in his life.
One last chance, one last opportunity for my ex to explain himself, for some clarification, because I owe him that much, and our special bond deserves that much. And then it's make or break.
Because I do not need this kind of mess in my life, I do not need old memories and uncertainties to drag me down and depress me. I need to liberate myself from feeling like an "aside", like just a thing to be toyed with.
I deserve much much more.
Came back to the hotel room. "I need to make a phone call." to the boyfriend. He told me to take a shower and wait for him to return.
How bizarre I felt, and I turned silent. I felt cheap, like a mistress on the side. That is who I am, right, as to my surprise my ex's boyfriend has no idea of where he is and who he is with. A most unfortunate set of circumstances, but who am I to judge? I told him so many times to talk to his boyfriend, to tell him the truth, but there's always something in the way, always a reason to delay telling the truth, always a reason to play with two people and toy with emotions.
What is so difficult, I wonder? He tells me he has never loved anyone like he does (or did?) me, so what is stopping him from ending a relationship that seems to be going nowhere? Comfort, "fun", not willing to break the other guy's heart? Or is the boyfriend just an escape, a distraction away from his new and apparently difficult working life in a big city where he knows no one?
Problems unsolved will only get worse and worse. My friends pity my ex's boyfriend, who seems to know nothing and seems to be in for a terrible heartbreak, who has no idea that my ex has been so lost and confused without me. Nobody pities my ex, because frankly he got himself into this situation, and he should have dealt with things long ago. He should have dealt with things and stopped pretending to have a relationship when he realised how he cannot seem to be without me in his life.
One last chance, one last opportunity for my ex to explain himself, for some clarification, because I owe him that much, and our special bond deserves that much. And then it's make or break.
Because I do not need this kind of mess in my life, I do not need old memories and uncertainties to drag me down and depress me. I need to liberate myself from feeling like an "aside", like just a thing to be toyed with.
I deserve much much more.
The Falls
I began howling, but the sound of water falling drowning my sorrow and pain. I cried tears long overdue, sobbed and shook energy that had long been suppressed and unreleased. I broke down, the first time since the start of mum's gradual deterioration of health.
It was seeing the falls. Even at night, even in the darkness, it was so powerful, so awing, so persisting. It was nature inspiring and goading broken and disappointed souls to safety and to comfort. The rush of the water was nature's way of dispelling all doubts and all fears. How can anything else really matter in the world compared to the immensity and sheer brute force of the water falling at such rapid speeds and with so much momentum?
What made me cry so much? The sounds, the deafening, constant sound of the water falling in the middle of the night. Falling into complete darkness, originating from complete darkness. The incessant sounds, incessant flow of water gushing and rushing over the precipice and naturally, fearlessly falling into the unknown.
What made me cry so much? The memories... memories of how eighteen years ago my entire family, my dad, mum, brother and I, stood (admittedly on the other, American, side of the falls) here and admired the water together. How much has changed throughout those seemingly carefree days... Who have I lost, and who am I about to lose? A heart-wrenching sense of loneliness choked my breath, and my breathing was made harder by my uncontrollable sobbing. All alone... All alone, standing there, crying. My ex gave me some space and walked away to lie down a little in the distance. Even he did not notice me howling and sobbing like I have rarely done. To think, that many years ago we were all together, and now I am here by myself...
There was some solace to be found in the fact that I managed to build up a life in the country I thought was so mysterious and foreign back then when I was just ten. Now, that great vast nation across the Niagara River is my home, and I made it (more or less) on my own. I made a whole new start after losing dad, and now on the verge of losing mum, I am consolidating my presence in Canada by submitting my application for Permanent Residence.
But the thought of building a home in Canada all own my own drowned me again in sadness and pain. I so wanted to share with dad the excitement I felt discovering this country... I so wanted mum to experience the beautiful scenery and bountiful berries and good quality of life after she retired. I know I am fortunate to have traveled with her extensively around this amazing country... But I so wanted her to come again, to visit again, to see me walk down the podium as I collect my degree in two weeks' time. I so much wanted mum to be proud of me, to see me thrive and be successful... to see me happy and settled...
The waters did not stop falling all the time these and so many other thoughts flooded my mind and erupted out of my eyes in the form of tears. I looked into the distance, at the colossal columns of water pouring down... and I felt so small, so insignificant. I could jump across the barrier and just vanish, and all my pains and sorrows would vanish too. I would never do that, of course, because how could I just give up my life when mum is struggling to hold onto hers? But the thought did cross my mind.
I began to walk off in a hurried pace. I was drunk from crying and stumbled. The tears clouded my vision and made me so dizzy. I stopped again on the side of the cliff and sat down on the rocky barrier. My ex followed me and was trying to comfort me. But I found little solace in my ex's arms, even though he tried hard to get me into them. Those arms belong to another, I can no longer find comfort and security in them, however sincere he offers them to me.
I took out my phone and began to dial home. I needed to speak to mum.
"Can you hear the waterfalls, mama?" I asked. I tried so hard to suppress the tears, I tried so hard not to whimper and not to let my voice betray my heavy tears and sobbing. Mum said she heard it.
"It's good you're taking time to travel. Relax, enjoy yourself. You have gone through so much..."
Those words drew out more tears, and I felt my face contort in pain. My voice was so powerless. I was unable to speak. "Remember... eighteen years ago we were all here... I miss you [all]. I miss you [all]..."
Mum said she was at this very place back in 2008, and that she stayed in a "tall tower". Was it the same hotel I was staying in? The knowledge that mum was there, that mum only recently also saw what I was seeing, was comforting and yet heart-wrenching. I felt the sprays of water cleanse my tired eyes and refresh my face.
And I stopped crying.
I cried what I needed to. The sorrow, the pent-up emotions, the pain, terrible pain of watching mum suffer and suffer even more all flooded out of me. And I felt lighter, more at ease, and the pain did not feel so painful after all...
I was numb. The water continuously fell, the sound of the water falling did not cease for a single moment. Nature seems to have such inspiring and invisible strength that last forever and forever.
But my emotions were temporary, like a summer storm that brews and brews until it is eventually released.
And afterwards the skies clear up again...
It was seeing the falls. Even at night, even in the darkness, it was so powerful, so awing, so persisting. It was nature inspiring and goading broken and disappointed souls to safety and to comfort. The rush of the water was nature's way of dispelling all doubts and all fears. How can anything else really matter in the world compared to the immensity and sheer brute force of the water falling at such rapid speeds and with so much momentum?
What made me cry so much? The sounds, the deafening, constant sound of the water falling in the middle of the night. Falling into complete darkness, originating from complete darkness. The incessant sounds, incessant flow of water gushing and rushing over the precipice and naturally, fearlessly falling into the unknown.
What made me cry so much? The memories... memories of how eighteen years ago my entire family, my dad, mum, brother and I, stood (admittedly on the other, American, side of the falls) here and admired the water together. How much has changed throughout those seemingly carefree days... Who have I lost, and who am I about to lose? A heart-wrenching sense of loneliness choked my breath, and my breathing was made harder by my uncontrollable sobbing. All alone... All alone, standing there, crying. My ex gave me some space and walked away to lie down a little in the distance. Even he did not notice me howling and sobbing like I have rarely done. To think, that many years ago we were all together, and now I am here by myself...
There was some solace to be found in the fact that I managed to build up a life in the country I thought was so mysterious and foreign back then when I was just ten. Now, that great vast nation across the Niagara River is my home, and I made it (more or less) on my own. I made a whole new start after losing dad, and now on the verge of losing mum, I am consolidating my presence in Canada by submitting my application for Permanent Residence.
But the thought of building a home in Canada all own my own drowned me again in sadness and pain. I so wanted to share with dad the excitement I felt discovering this country... I so wanted mum to experience the beautiful scenery and bountiful berries and good quality of life after she retired. I know I am fortunate to have traveled with her extensively around this amazing country... But I so wanted her to come again, to visit again, to see me walk down the podium as I collect my degree in two weeks' time. I so much wanted mum to be proud of me, to see me thrive and be successful... to see me happy and settled...
The waters did not stop falling all the time these and so many other thoughts flooded my mind and erupted out of my eyes in the form of tears. I looked into the distance, at the colossal columns of water pouring down... and I felt so small, so insignificant. I could jump across the barrier and just vanish, and all my pains and sorrows would vanish too. I would never do that, of course, because how could I just give up my life when mum is struggling to hold onto hers? But the thought did cross my mind.
I began to walk off in a hurried pace. I was drunk from crying and stumbled. The tears clouded my vision and made me so dizzy. I stopped again on the side of the cliff and sat down on the rocky barrier. My ex followed me and was trying to comfort me. But I found little solace in my ex's arms, even though he tried hard to get me into them. Those arms belong to another, I can no longer find comfort and security in them, however sincere he offers them to me.
I took out my phone and began to dial home. I needed to speak to mum.
"Can you hear the waterfalls, mama?" I asked. I tried so hard to suppress the tears, I tried so hard not to whimper and not to let my voice betray my heavy tears and sobbing. Mum said she heard it.
"It's good you're taking time to travel. Relax, enjoy yourself. You have gone through so much..."
Those words drew out more tears, and I felt my face contort in pain. My voice was so powerless. I was unable to speak. "Remember... eighteen years ago we were all here... I miss you [all]. I miss you [all]..."
Mum said she was at this very place back in 2008, and that she stayed in a "tall tower". Was it the same hotel I was staying in? The knowledge that mum was there, that mum only recently also saw what I was seeing, was comforting and yet heart-wrenching. I felt the sprays of water cleanse my tired eyes and refresh my face.
And I stopped crying.
I cried what I needed to. The sorrow, the pent-up emotions, the pain, terrible pain of watching mum suffer and suffer even more all flooded out of me. And I felt lighter, more at ease, and the pain did not feel so painful after all...
I was numb. The water continuously fell, the sound of the water falling did not cease for a single moment. Nature seems to have such inspiring and invisible strength that last forever and forever.
But my emotions were temporary, like a summer storm that brews and brews until it is eventually released.
And afterwards the skies clear up again...
26 May 2012
Ex's wedding
"I'm not happy!" my ex said with a stern face. And I suddenly woke up, two hours or so after I struggled to fall asleep last night...
It was a tough struggle falling asleep. I arrived at my ex's apartment few hours earlier. It was all fine before bed, just talking and catching up on each others' day and events. But topics were avoided, deliberately. I mentioned few details when he asked about my mum, even though one of the reason why I lay there unable to sleep, and at one point even tearing, was because of the conversation I had with her last night. I was covered using the blanket my mum had given my ex on his birthday, the same one my mum was using when I left her a few weeks back... Having the blanket around me felt especially sentimental and sad...
At bedtime I curled up the sofa. My ex came and asked if I wanted to sleep next to him. I did, I had fantasised about doing that, because it's so wonderful, so safe and comforting sleeping next to him ( or is it just next to someone? Anyone?), but I stood firm. I stood (actually lay...) firm even though he dropped a comment: "There'd be no funny business, I promise..." I thought to myself: "you make a lot of promises. I can't really trust you. Who can?"
I lay there awake for a while. I know he was awake, but I kept on hearing him move around in his bed. It felt so strange for me to sleep on the sofa, and I'm pretty sure he felt the same, and probably was also lying in bed wondering why I'm here and he's there.
I lay there, looked around me in the darkness of the night, and could still see the objects his boyfriend gave him here and there around the room. My resolve stay where I was, despite my lust telling me otherwise, grew more determined.
I dreamed. We were at a busy place, a restaurant of some sort with lots of our friends around. I was rushing around, trying to keep up with my ex who stomped around angrily for some reason. At one point he turned to me and shouted at me: "I'm so tired of you! And for your information, he has a journal too, and I've read it. It's so much of better read than your depressing blog!" This very blog was what he was referring to.
My ex stormed off. I found myself in he middle of the crowd, stunned and hurt speechless. How could say such a thing? How can he hurt me again so terribly and so meanly?
There was a commotion, and a whole bunch of people, a while family, arrived and were preparing to sit down for dinner. I had somehow the knowledge it was him, my ex's boyfriend. I grew more apprehensive as I waited to see him, to talk to him for the first time...
So many people passed us by, and eventually my ex's boyfriend appeared. He was much shorter than I expected, and looked so young, but sweet looking. Out of nowhere my ex appeared and they kissed in public. My heart ached so terribly. Somehow at this point I had realised it was a wedding... Their wedding.
My ex disappeared again. I walked up to his boyfriend/fiancé, and introduced myself. He was nice talking to me, even though there was some awkwardness. The fiancé meeting the former great love of his husband-to-be.
We spoke civilly, no harsh words were exchanged, and he did seem like a good guy. At one point I said: "I just want to tell you that he [my ex] can be a complicated person," at which point his fiancé smiled and nodded, "but you deserve one another, and I wish you both all the best. Please take good care of him..." I started to breakdown and cry, and I ran.
I encountered my dad. He was stumbling around the crowded place like zombie. I tries talking to him, but he did not respond. He had a dazed look on his face, and he looked in such a sorry sight, so unkempt and lost psychologically.
I saw my ex approaching fast, and I walked up next to him. He looked happy, was smiling beautifully until I walked up to him. His smile suddenly turned to a sour and angry face as I approached.
Angrily and impatiently he asked what I wanted. He said: "I'm not happy! I'm so tired of you! And for your information, he has a journal too, and I've read it. It's so much of better read than your depressing blog!"
I was in tears, but managed to utter something.
I woke up
It was a tough struggle falling asleep. I arrived at my ex's apartment few hours earlier. It was all fine before bed, just talking and catching up on each others' day and events. But topics were avoided, deliberately. I mentioned few details when he asked about my mum, even though one of the reason why I lay there unable to sleep, and at one point even tearing, was because of the conversation I had with her last night. I was covered using the blanket my mum had given my ex on his birthday, the same one my mum was using when I left her a few weeks back... Having the blanket around me felt especially sentimental and sad...
At bedtime I curled up the sofa. My ex came and asked if I wanted to sleep next to him. I did, I had fantasised about doing that, because it's so wonderful, so safe and comforting sleeping next to him ( or is it just next to someone? Anyone?), but I stood firm. I stood (actually lay...) firm even though he dropped a comment: "There'd be no funny business, I promise..." I thought to myself: "you make a lot of promises. I can't really trust you. Who can?"
I lay there awake for a while. I know he was awake, but I kept on hearing him move around in his bed. It felt so strange for me to sleep on the sofa, and I'm pretty sure he felt the same, and probably was also lying in bed wondering why I'm here and he's there.
I lay there, looked around me in the darkness of the night, and could still see the objects his boyfriend gave him here and there around the room. My resolve stay where I was, despite my lust telling me otherwise, grew more determined.
I dreamed. We were at a busy place, a restaurant of some sort with lots of our friends around. I was rushing around, trying to keep up with my ex who stomped around angrily for some reason. At one point he turned to me and shouted at me: "I'm so tired of you! And for your information, he has a journal too, and I've read it. It's so much of better read than your depressing blog!" This very blog was what he was referring to.
My ex stormed off. I found myself in he middle of the crowd, stunned and hurt speechless. How could say such a thing? How can he hurt me again so terribly and so meanly?
There was a commotion, and a whole bunch of people, a while family, arrived and were preparing to sit down for dinner. I had somehow the knowledge it was him, my ex's boyfriend. I grew more apprehensive as I waited to see him, to talk to him for the first time...
So many people passed us by, and eventually my ex's boyfriend appeared. He was much shorter than I expected, and looked so young, but sweet looking. Out of nowhere my ex appeared and they kissed in public. My heart ached so terribly. Somehow at this point I had realised it was a wedding... Their wedding.
My ex disappeared again. I walked up to his boyfriend/fiancé, and introduced myself. He was nice talking to me, even though there was some awkwardness. The fiancé meeting the former great love of his husband-to-be.
We spoke civilly, no harsh words were exchanged, and he did seem like a good guy. At one point I said: "I just want to tell you that he [my ex] can be a complicated person," at which point his fiancé smiled and nodded, "but you deserve one another, and I wish you both all the best. Please take good care of him..." I started to breakdown and cry, and I ran.
I encountered my dad. He was stumbling around the crowded place like zombie. I tries talking to him, but he did not respond. He had a dazed look on his face, and he looked in such a sorry sight, so unkempt and lost psychologically.
I saw my ex approaching fast, and I walked up next to him. He looked happy, was smiling beautifully until I walked up to him. His smile suddenly turned to a sour and angry face as I approached.
Angrily and impatiently he asked what I wanted. He said: "I'm not happy! I'm so tired of you! And for your information, he has a journal too, and I've read it. It's so much of better read than your depressing blog!"
I was in tears, but managed to utter something.
I woke up
Another chance
After a series of exchanges by text message, I think both my ex and I calmed down. Nothing can be resolved by texting, and I believe both of us are tired of letting things just drag on unresolved... Perhaps he more than anyone else.
Last night I spoke to a friend whose opinion I've always respected greatly. "You guys have to sit down face to face..." Whatever the resolution, it's necessary to just sit and talk things through. Because that way we will know the other side of the story, that way we will (hopefully soon) know what way this lingering impasse will proceed. After all we've gone through, all the years we've known one another, we owe it to ourselves to talk about things.
So I woke up (a bit too late perhaps...) and had an impulsive urge. To see him. To go to Niagara Falls, where we took our first trip together, where we made beautiful memories just sitting there watching the sun go down and listening to the waters fall.
I know I am disappointed several people by doing this, especially the two good friends who sat with me and comforted me that night when I drank and cried. They'll probably think I'm weak and too weak, and that my ex is manipulative and playing with my heart. But they did say at one point too that none of this is over, and that things will just drag on and on... And I don't want things to drag on and on. O want, I need clarity. Either break off things completely or a whole fresh start.
How will this weekend go? How will the drama between my ex and I, who obviously have strong mutual feelings for one another, unfold?
I hope beautifully, as beautifully as when we fell in love with one another that first time we watched the waters fall.
Last night I spoke to a friend whose opinion I've always respected greatly. "You guys have to sit down face to face..." Whatever the resolution, it's necessary to just sit and talk things through. Because that way we will know the other side of the story, that way we will (hopefully soon) know what way this lingering impasse will proceed. After all we've gone through, all the years we've known one another, we owe it to ourselves to talk about things.
So I woke up (a bit too late perhaps...) and had an impulsive urge. To see him. To go to Niagara Falls, where we took our first trip together, where we made beautiful memories just sitting there watching the sun go down and listening to the waters fall.
I know I am disappointed several people by doing this, especially the two good friends who sat with me and comforted me that night when I drank and cried. They'll probably think I'm weak and too weak, and that my ex is manipulative and playing with my heart. But they did say at one point too that none of this is over, and that things will just drag on and on... And I don't want things to drag on and on. O want, I need clarity. Either break off things completely or a whole fresh start.
How will this weekend go? How will the drama between my ex and I, who obviously have strong mutual feelings for one another, unfold?
I hope beautifully, as beautifully as when we fell in love with one another that first time we watched the waters fall.
Losing her taste
Mum sounded so weak on the phone today. It was just past eleven in the morning, and she said her cousin had just left after visiting briefly. The cousin came to chat with her a little bit, and when she realised mum was tired, she left.
Mum revealed she did not feel well. "My taste is going, and I have little appetite..." That is worrying, because she's already so thin, so frail when I last saw her, and she told me last weeks she lost even more weight. If she has little appetite, how is she going to get her strength back...?
She said she vomited a couple of times yesterday. More than usual. Mostly stomach juices, but also when she ate. It sent a pang of shock down my spine. Is it already so soon? Is it already as the doctor predicted...?
"If there's anything, I'll let you know..." mum said weakly.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Nothing, we'll let you know..."
There is something. Brother wasn't around to talk to, so I couldn't know what was wrong. But something is up.
"Just go to sleep, it's late..." mum said.
Before I could say anything else, she hung up the phone.
Something is up...
Mum revealed she did not feel well. "My taste is going, and I have little appetite..." That is worrying, because she's already so thin, so frail when I last saw her, and she told me last weeks she lost even more weight. If she has little appetite, how is she going to get her strength back...?
She said she vomited a couple of times yesterday. More than usual. Mostly stomach juices, but also when she ate. It sent a pang of shock down my spine. Is it already so soon? Is it already as the doctor predicted...?
"If there's anything, I'll let you know..." mum said weakly.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Nothing, we'll let you know..."
There is something. Brother wasn't around to talk to, so I couldn't know what was wrong. But something is up.
"Just go to sleep, it's late..." mum said.
Before I could say anything else, she hung up the phone.
Something is up...
24 May 2012
Tears of sadness
I cried, really cried for the first time since I left home. My friends had to hold me and comfort me, but the tears could not stop flowing.
"It's ok, let it out. You'll feel better..." I felt somewhat better after crying and after drinking myself silly. I've never done anything like it, but my friends insisted I go out and drink, let the hurt and pain, sorrow and sense of betrayal be drowned by glasses of sangria. I did not go home. I was scared to go home. I slept at a friend's place, but only for an hour or two before suddenly being 'shocked' awake. And I lay in bed for hours, with thoughts rushing through my mind...
I found out the truth of why my ex was not in NYC this weekend. Whether he did or did not go to much lengths to try and find a way to get there and see me is another matter. But what is telling is that he spent the weekend here with friends and with his boyfriend.
Yes, contrary to what I have believed or wanted to believe, my ex is still together with the guy. Amazing, three months after my ex wrote to me pouring out his feelings for me, and telling me he'd "deal" his his situation, he's still not dealt with it. He wanted to wait for an opportune time, explaining that he did not want to give his boyfriend pressure while he's doing his finals. Valid excuse. But was there no opportune moment over the course o three months? Or was the will to break up simply not there, and my ex was saying to me all these things just to "get to me"? Deep down, only he knows the truth, only he must sleep at night with a conscience. I don't know what to believe anymore when he tells me things.
Most painful of all, as I heard from my friends, all the time I have been away, my ex has been walking around with his boyfriend as if it were the most normal thing. I was replaced, and his boyfriend brought into our circle of friends. Everyone found it bizarre, dishonest, and questioned my ex how he could put on this charade of a relationship, make the other person believe there is something meaningful there, whereas all the time my ex tried and tried to reach me and to declare his true feelings for me. Oh, people know. They it's such a joke what my ex has been up to, such immaturity of trying to hide things and pretend things are alright, when deep down there are so many uncomfortable things unsaid. And they pity the other person, who is much younger and seems to have no idea my ex is playing two people's hearts at the same time and seemingly enjoying it in the mean time.
Nobody can know what my ex is feeling, why he does the things he does. And god knows he is torn and breaking up deep inside. But really a lot of it is his own doing. Letting things drag on and on and not wanting to deal with issues, and with time things get worse, feelings are intensified, and the hurt is much deeper.
My ex and I exchanged a number of text messages. I told him how much it hurts to find out he slept with me, kissed me so passionately (like never before...) and yet he's still with his boyfriend. How could he sleep at night, I asked him. How can he hurt me like this, knowing all difficult, difficult issues of death and illness I've had to face and am still facing surrounding my mum's condition? I said I'm already so vulnerable right now, and finding out how he's not been completely honest with me, and even slept with me the night after he was with another guy, made me feel so sick.
He hit back at me. He said it was tiring how I "rub in death and illness" to make me seem like the victim, to make it seem like I need sympathy. That just wounded me so terribly. Because he really has no idea how it is to be faced with death and illness. I wasn't dropping those words as a soundbite for dramatic effects. He has no idea, nobody has any idea until there're faced with losing someone they lose imminently how pervasive the sadness, depression and suicidal tendencies are. He has no idea how there have been various moments I just feel so tempted to injure myself, cut myself or jump in front of a moving bus. Anything, anything to numb the physical and psychological torment...
He lamented how I've treated him poorly ignoring his attempts to reach me for months. And how I seem to have no sense of self-criticism over my behaviour in the past few months.Where was it all coming from? Perhaps in my lack of self-criticism, I am overseeing what I have done so wrong...
True, I admit it, I avoided contact with all the rest of my friends and ignored my ex especially. I just was so tired I from everything I could not muster the energy to pick up the phone and just call me, just start telling people how I'm doing or what I'm facing. And why did I not want to talk to my ex? Because everytime he would just break down and cry. I was/am already hurting, struggling to cope with new and ever evolving circumstances, trying so hard not to cry, but he cries... And it was just so bizzare to hear him cry, when he has everything he wants: the boy he has been after for almost a year, a job (albeit with strange and somewhat elitist colleagues), and a nice apartment in downtown Toronto. He has his health, his parents seem to be alright... and yet for some reason he is not happy.
He told me in all the time I ignored him and refused to pick up the calls, he became so severely depressed and emotional, to the extent it affects his ability to work.
So it is/was all my fault? Admittedly, my fault to separate and distance myself from him, to isolate and insulate myself from his world so he can go and discover what it is he really wants in life. But is it my fault he harbours such strong emotions for me, is it my fault that he chose to be with someone but then realise, or perhaps has even known all the time, that it would not work out? Is it my fault that I shy away and try to focus on my mum, my priority at this critical juncture of her life, and that I simply do not wish to be distracted? Distracted by his attempts to woo me again, distracted by his declarations of feelings for me and seeing and being told by mutual friends that he is doing completely the opposite of what he says he feels for me. I do not need this, any of this...
And to lament me for ignoring other friends, to speak on their behalf and say how sick my behaviour has been over the past few months? how do you just pick up the phone and start ranting, lamenting, crying even about mum's condition? It's not me, I'm not some weak young kid, I can handle things, I can take it, and there really is no need for me to talk to people if I don't want to. How come everyone of my friends could understand but my ex? How come they could understand I need space and time to deal with mum's situation, but only my ex wanted to constantly be updated on news and developments? I told him in so many e-mails why I don't want to talk to him. How can I keep on bothering him when he's starting a relationship,when he told me frankly to move on?
He lamented me for not being there for when he had such "torturous" few months. And he said I never asked about how he was doing or cared about how depressed he became.
None of the exchanges led to anywhere constructive. one thing ks written, and it is responded with a rebuttal whatever was said or dragged out of the past. It was ugly, creating more tensions, and so destructive...
I was so tired. And I am sure he is so tired too of me, of the same old issues that remain unresolved five months on. Is the problem with me? Is it really with me? I don't know, I really don't know. He throws back things at me, accusing me of this and that, which is really just very off putting. I thought I was ready to move on, ready to perhaps talk things through and try to see where we can go from here, but he's still clinging, clinging onto the other boy, refusing to let go, and it seems lamenting me for the great misfortunes of his life over the past few months.
How did we come to this? I thought there was something special there. I thought he truly loved me, at least he said so. But why is it so complicated? It doesn't, shouldn't have to be this way...
Perhaps I should heed the warning others gave me: beware of how manipulative he is, and beware of how soft-hearted I can be...
"It's ok, let it out. You'll feel better..." I felt somewhat better after crying and after drinking myself silly. I've never done anything like it, but my friends insisted I go out and drink, let the hurt and pain, sorrow and sense of betrayal be drowned by glasses of sangria. I did not go home. I was scared to go home. I slept at a friend's place, but only for an hour or two before suddenly being 'shocked' awake. And I lay in bed for hours, with thoughts rushing through my mind...
I found out the truth of why my ex was not in NYC this weekend. Whether he did or did not go to much lengths to try and find a way to get there and see me is another matter. But what is telling is that he spent the weekend here with friends and with his boyfriend.
Yes, contrary to what I have believed or wanted to believe, my ex is still together with the guy. Amazing, three months after my ex wrote to me pouring out his feelings for me, and telling me he'd "deal" his his situation, he's still not dealt with it. He wanted to wait for an opportune time, explaining that he did not want to give his boyfriend pressure while he's doing his finals. Valid excuse. But was there no opportune moment over the course o three months? Or was the will to break up simply not there, and my ex was saying to me all these things just to "get to me"? Deep down, only he knows the truth, only he must sleep at night with a conscience. I don't know what to believe anymore when he tells me things.
Most painful of all, as I heard from my friends, all the time I have been away, my ex has been walking around with his boyfriend as if it were the most normal thing. I was replaced, and his boyfriend brought into our circle of friends. Everyone found it bizarre, dishonest, and questioned my ex how he could put on this charade of a relationship, make the other person believe there is something meaningful there, whereas all the time my ex tried and tried to reach me and to declare his true feelings for me. Oh, people know. They it's such a joke what my ex has been up to, such immaturity of trying to hide things and pretend things are alright, when deep down there are so many uncomfortable things unsaid. And they pity the other person, who is much younger and seems to have no idea my ex is playing two people's hearts at the same time and seemingly enjoying it in the mean time.
Nobody can know what my ex is feeling, why he does the things he does. And god knows he is torn and breaking up deep inside. But really a lot of it is his own doing. Letting things drag on and on and not wanting to deal with issues, and with time things get worse, feelings are intensified, and the hurt is much deeper.
My ex and I exchanged a number of text messages. I told him how much it hurts to find out he slept with me, kissed me so passionately (like never before...) and yet he's still with his boyfriend. How could he sleep at night, I asked him. How can he hurt me like this, knowing all difficult, difficult issues of death and illness I've had to face and am still facing surrounding my mum's condition? I said I'm already so vulnerable right now, and finding out how he's not been completely honest with me, and even slept with me the night after he was with another guy, made me feel so sick.
He hit back at me. He said it was tiring how I "rub in death and illness" to make me seem like the victim, to make it seem like I need sympathy. That just wounded me so terribly. Because he really has no idea how it is to be faced with death and illness. I wasn't dropping those words as a soundbite for dramatic effects. He has no idea, nobody has any idea until there're faced with losing someone they lose imminently how pervasive the sadness, depression and suicidal tendencies are. He has no idea how there have been various moments I just feel so tempted to injure myself, cut myself or jump in front of a moving bus. Anything, anything to numb the physical and psychological torment...
He lamented how I've treated him poorly ignoring his attempts to reach me for months. And how I seem to have no sense of self-criticism over my behaviour in the past few months.Where was it all coming from? Perhaps in my lack of self-criticism, I am overseeing what I have done so wrong...
True, I admit it, I avoided contact with all the rest of my friends and ignored my ex especially. I just was so tired I from everything I could not muster the energy to pick up the phone and just call me, just start telling people how I'm doing or what I'm facing. And why did I not want to talk to my ex? Because everytime he would just break down and cry. I was/am already hurting, struggling to cope with new and ever evolving circumstances, trying so hard not to cry, but he cries... And it was just so bizzare to hear him cry, when he has everything he wants: the boy he has been after for almost a year, a job (albeit with strange and somewhat elitist colleagues), and a nice apartment in downtown Toronto. He has his health, his parents seem to be alright... and yet for some reason he is not happy.
He told me in all the time I ignored him and refused to pick up the calls, he became so severely depressed and emotional, to the extent it affects his ability to work.
So it is/was all my fault? Admittedly, my fault to separate and distance myself from him, to isolate and insulate myself from his world so he can go and discover what it is he really wants in life. But is it my fault he harbours such strong emotions for me, is it my fault that he chose to be with someone but then realise, or perhaps has even known all the time, that it would not work out? Is it my fault that I shy away and try to focus on my mum, my priority at this critical juncture of her life, and that I simply do not wish to be distracted? Distracted by his attempts to woo me again, distracted by his declarations of feelings for me and seeing and being told by mutual friends that he is doing completely the opposite of what he says he feels for me. I do not need this, any of this...
And to lament me for ignoring other friends, to speak on their behalf and say how sick my behaviour has been over the past few months? how do you just pick up the phone and start ranting, lamenting, crying even about mum's condition? It's not me, I'm not some weak young kid, I can handle things, I can take it, and there really is no need for me to talk to people if I don't want to. How come everyone of my friends could understand but my ex? How come they could understand I need space and time to deal with mum's situation, but only my ex wanted to constantly be updated on news and developments? I told him in so many e-mails why I don't want to talk to him. How can I keep on bothering him when he's starting a relationship,when he told me frankly to move on?
He lamented me for not being there for when he had such "torturous" few months. And he said I never asked about how he was doing or cared about how depressed he became.
None of the exchanges led to anywhere constructive. one thing ks written, and it is responded with a rebuttal whatever was said or dragged out of the past. It was ugly, creating more tensions, and so destructive...
I was so tired. And I am sure he is so tired too of me, of the same old issues that remain unresolved five months on. Is the problem with me? Is it really with me? I don't know, I really don't know. He throws back things at me, accusing me of this and that, which is really just very off putting. I thought I was ready to move on, ready to perhaps talk things through and try to see where we can go from here, but he's still clinging, clinging onto the other boy, refusing to let go, and it seems lamenting me for the great misfortunes of his life over the past few months.
How did we come to this? I thought there was something special there. I thought he truly loved me, at least he said so. But why is it so complicated? It doesn't, shouldn't have to be this way...
Perhaps I should heed the warning others gave me: beware of how manipulative he is, and beware of how soft-hearted I can be...
23 May 2012
Disturbance
After a period of relative calm, I became agitated and disturbed again.
Saw a good friend and we chatted for a good long while. I was disjointed and lost when he asked about my mum, but he was understanding and compassionate, as always and offered invaluable support and reassurance.
The topic turned to my ex, and slowly bit by bit pieces of information were revealed. True to my suspicions, my ex seems to be still involved with his boyfriend... He still hasn't let go, he still seems to be clinging on and wanting to have two people at the same time. From nowhere, the irritation and sense of betrayal rose. To think, after his declaration of love for me just after my birthday, after his various attempts to reach me, it seems to be just a show. And I'm beginning to suspect that the reason why he did not manage to meet me in NYC last weekend was not entirely because he was too busy. I suspect he had his hesitations. Of course, I still have to hear from his side of the story... but can I truly trust what he tells me? He can tell me a few months ago that he loves me so and misses me so much, and yet still stay in a relationship with someone. How honest is that? Why would anyone do that at all?
He's still confused and conflicted, still unwilling to let go, and still trying to cling onto me. I should know better than fall into that trap again.
I deserve more than this. I deserve someone who will be there for me fully. I know this, and this guy I met when I was out in Vancouver last week also told me this. In fact, everyone tells me this.
I have a feeling now my ex needs me more than I need him. I will give him one last chance to explain himself, to say what he has to say. But if nothing changes, if he is still drowning in that mess of indecisiveness and still caught between feelings for two people, I will just move on. As he told me to move on several months ago.
Saw a good friend and we chatted for a good long while. I was disjointed and lost when he asked about my mum, but he was understanding and compassionate, as always and offered invaluable support and reassurance.
The topic turned to my ex, and slowly bit by bit pieces of information were revealed. True to my suspicions, my ex seems to be still involved with his boyfriend... He still hasn't let go, he still seems to be clinging on and wanting to have two people at the same time. From nowhere, the irritation and sense of betrayal rose. To think, after his declaration of love for me just after my birthday, after his various attempts to reach me, it seems to be just a show. And I'm beginning to suspect that the reason why he did not manage to meet me in NYC last weekend was not entirely because he was too busy. I suspect he had his hesitations. Of course, I still have to hear from his side of the story... but can I truly trust what he tells me? He can tell me a few months ago that he loves me so and misses me so much, and yet still stay in a relationship with someone. How honest is that? Why would anyone do that at all?
He's still confused and conflicted, still unwilling to let go, and still trying to cling onto me. I should know better than fall into that trap again.
I deserve more than this. I deserve someone who will be there for me fully. I know this, and this guy I met when I was out in Vancouver last week also told me this. In fact, everyone tells me this.
I have a feeling now my ex needs me more than I need him. I will give him one last chance to explain himself, to say what he has to say. But if nothing changes, if he is still drowning in that mess of indecisiveness and still caught between feelings for two people, I will just move on. As he told me to move on several months ago.
22 May 2012
Broken conversation
I try to tell mum my day, recount the touching things that happened to me today, things that I felt were important and that I wanted and needed to share.
But she is too weak to listen, and it was as if she my encounter with my professor did not even register with her. "Ok, go to sleep. It's late..." And the phone hung up.
That hurt. Maybe it was not important or meaningful to her or anyone else, but I thought telling her about how my professor reassured me and encouraged me would make her feel at ease. I thought she would be happy for me, and in turn that she would have something to be happy about during the day. But the story seemed to be so quickly dismissed...
I cannot describe why it makes me so sad. So very sad...
But she is too weak to listen, and it was as if she my encounter with my professor did not even register with her. "Ok, go to sleep. It's late..." And the phone hung up.
That hurt. Maybe it was not important or meaningful to her or anyone else, but I thought telling her about how my professor reassured me and encouraged me would make her feel at ease. I thought she would be happy for me, and in turn that she would have something to be happy about during the day. But the story seemed to be so quickly dismissed...
I cannot describe why it makes me so sad. So very sad...
Seeing my professor
I went into the office today, the first time since before Christmas last year. My colleagues were so excited to see me, and compassionately listened to me recount events (or at least summaries thereof) of the past few months I was away. We had lunch dinner, and it felt as cosy and intimate as ever before. "It's so wonderful to have you back," the secretary said, "We've missed you here." And I've missed them and my odd chores at the institute.
I dropped in on my professor, who is my supervisor but also happens to be my guidance counsellor over the last three and something years. As always, he was concerned about how I am doing and about my mum's well-being.
"It's not good..." I said, hesitatingly, but honestly when my professor asked how mum is. My voice trembled as I said that, and I could feel a rush of tears to my eyes as the image of mum lying there in hospital flashed across my mind.
We sat down for a while, and I recounted how difficult things have been. He was understanding as ever, the wise and compassionate "grandfatherly" figure I have have always appreciated and held in high regard. I thanked him numerous times for his understanding, his patience, his encouragements and support-- something I've done numerous times before already, and also written a whole paragraph acknowledging in my thesis. I was moved almost to tears as I thanked him and gave him a little something I brought back from Taiwan. Moved to tears because, as I said to him, he gave me the time and freedom I needed to complete this degree, and he understood the pains and difficulties I have had to face and overcome in the process. For that I am so grateful...
I also apologised to him, for I feel terribly sorry that he had entrusted with me some projects before Christmas, but I never did find the time to really sit down and produce something of high quality to deliver. Again, my professor was understanding, and he said he does not hold it against me. "There are those who are in much more favourable situations than you are, and they don't deliver. I know you are doing your best." His words again moved me to tears.
I told him frankly often I feel guilty that I've been at the institute, and at this degree, for three, almost four years yet what have I really contributed to the institute? What great achievements have I made? What breakthrough have I made?
He cut me off mid-sentence. "You've not just done well, you've done an excellent job with what you're facing." Being Indian, he said he could understand how I feel and what conflict I feel deep down. "As I have said many times, you are doing the right thing and putting your mother first. What is more important than that? Work can come later, but your mother may not be around later..."
He congratulated me on my "achievement" of finishing off my thesis, and also trying to do everything I can to be with my mum at this critical, critical stage of her life. "Like I have said, you should be proud of yourself for doing so much and doing so well despite the circumstances..."
As I stood up to go, I humbly bowed and shook his hand. In the face of difficult decisions and uncontrollable circumstances, there are 'saints' like my professor who have been around to push me, encourage me, guide me and remind me again of what I have done, and reassure me that a lot of what I do is worth it. Worth all the tears, anxieties, sleepless nights.... worth staying up till the wee hours of the morning just trying to finish off footnotes and editing, because that is the only time I have to work.
Thank you, professor...
I dropped in on my professor, who is my supervisor but also happens to be my guidance counsellor over the last three and something years. As always, he was concerned about how I am doing and about my mum's well-being.
"It's not good..." I said, hesitatingly, but honestly when my professor asked how mum is. My voice trembled as I said that, and I could feel a rush of tears to my eyes as the image of mum lying there in hospital flashed across my mind.
We sat down for a while, and I recounted how difficult things have been. He was understanding as ever, the wise and compassionate "grandfatherly" figure I have have always appreciated and held in high regard. I thanked him numerous times for his understanding, his patience, his encouragements and support-- something I've done numerous times before already, and also written a whole paragraph acknowledging in my thesis. I was moved almost to tears as I thanked him and gave him a little something I brought back from Taiwan. Moved to tears because, as I said to him, he gave me the time and freedom I needed to complete this degree, and he understood the pains and difficulties I have had to face and overcome in the process. For that I am so grateful...I also apologised to him, for I feel terribly sorry that he had entrusted with me some projects before Christmas, but I never did find the time to really sit down and produce something of high quality to deliver. Again, my professor was understanding, and he said he does not hold it against me. "There are those who are in much more favourable situations than you are, and they don't deliver. I know you are doing your best." His words again moved me to tears.
I told him frankly often I feel guilty that I've been at the institute, and at this degree, for three, almost four years yet what have I really contributed to the institute? What great achievements have I made? What breakthrough have I made?
He cut me off mid-sentence. "You've not just done well, you've done an excellent job with what you're facing." Being Indian, he said he could understand how I feel and what conflict I feel deep down. "As I have said many times, you are doing the right thing and putting your mother first. What is more important than that? Work can come later, but your mother may not be around later..."
He congratulated me on my "achievement" of finishing off my thesis, and also trying to do everything I can to be with my mum at this critical, critical stage of her life. "Like I have said, you should be proud of yourself for doing so much and doing so well despite the circumstances..."
As I stood up to go, I humbly bowed and shook his hand. In the face of difficult decisions and uncontrollable circumstances, there are 'saints' like my professor who have been around to push me, encourage me, guide me and remind me again of what I have done, and reassure me that a lot of what I do is worth it. Worth all the tears, anxieties, sleepless nights.... worth staying up till the wee hours of the morning just trying to finish off footnotes and editing, because that is the only time I have to work.
Thank you, professor...
21 May 2012
Silences
Mum sounded sleepy. She said she is feeling sleepy every day. It's because of the painkillers that the doctor has prescribed her. She sleeps well, which is a good thing, but she can sit there and just doze off.
As she talked, her voice was frail and halting. I strained to hear her.
And there really wasn't much to say after she told me about her day going to the park in the morning and sitting by the computer. She did complain a bit about the new carer (the old one was fired because she used mum's computer and wore mum's shoes without even asking permission... And she was too young and somewhat incompetent...), who is attentive and does a good job helping mum with her daily needs, but is a lousy cook. She sounded like she was straining to talk, as if every word took great effort and energy...
I told mum my day, about playing tennis with friends and how I was reunited with my cat again. And I told her about the unseasonal hot and humid spell we have been having for a couple of days. That was the end of the conversation, followed by awkward silences.
I spent an hour or so writing to a friend who lost her mum to cancer last year. She said she still has difficulty coping, and that she sometimes feels like she was left alone. Reading her message added to my fears and anxieties... will I too feel like the world has collapsed once mum leaves me? Will, like my friend, just break down and cry so hard when I think back to memories of mum? I wrote to my friend, describing briefly how life has been over the past two, three months. But my words felt so inadequate, felt so unfeeling. They did not do justice to all the motions and experiences that mum and I shared. No words can ever recount how difficult, and yet touching at the same time, this entire episode till last week in Taiwan has been. The way I wrote and described the events felt like I was narrating a story, but in a way that was sterile and weak, in a way that removed all humanness and heart-felt emotions of the entire experience, that robbed all the suffering, the fears, tears and glimmers of hope of all meaning...
Perhaps I am just too tired. Too tired to write these days, too tired to describe what I am feeling inside. Too tired to structure my thoughts and emotions, and out pours words that when I come back to read are so confused and disjointed. Words that do so little to capture the state of insecurity and longings for liberation and love I truly feel inside.
As she talked, her voice was frail and halting. I strained to hear her.
And there really wasn't much to say after she told me about her day going to the park in the morning and sitting by the computer. She did complain a bit about the new carer (the old one was fired because she used mum's computer and wore mum's shoes without even asking permission... And she was too young and somewhat incompetent...), who is attentive and does a good job helping mum with her daily needs, but is a lousy cook. She sounded like she was straining to talk, as if every word took great effort and energy...
I told mum my day, about playing tennis with friends and how I was reunited with my cat again. And I told her about the unseasonal hot and humid spell we have been having for a couple of days. That was the end of the conversation, followed by awkward silences.
I spent an hour or so writing to a friend who lost her mum to cancer last year. She said she still has difficulty coping, and that she sometimes feels like she was left alone. Reading her message added to my fears and anxieties... will I too feel like the world has collapsed once mum leaves me? Will, like my friend, just break down and cry so hard when I think back to memories of mum? I wrote to my friend, describing briefly how life has been over the past two, three months. But my words felt so inadequate, felt so unfeeling. They did not do justice to all the motions and experiences that mum and I shared. No words can ever recount how difficult, and yet touching at the same time, this entire episode till last week in Taiwan has been. The way I wrote and described the events felt like I was narrating a story, but in a way that was sterile and weak, in a way that removed all humanness and heart-felt emotions of the entire experience, that robbed all the suffering, the fears, tears and glimmers of hope of all meaning...
Perhaps I am just too tired. Too tired to write these days, too tired to describe what I am feeling inside. Too tired to structure my thoughts and emotions, and out pours words that when I come back to read are so confused and disjointed. Words that do so little to capture the state of insecurity and longings for liberation and love I truly feel inside.
A start
playing tennis, then having uninhibited fun and reliving childhood memories on the swings and see-saw. Reconnecting with friends, spending time with the ex. There are still things unsaid, perhaps difficult things that are difficult to express, but there will be a time a place for those things. Now, I am just basking in the moment, enjoying the wonderful moments I have so longed for and enjoying the people I have so dearly missed. It's as if I never left here. I can get used to this "easy" lifestyle, this life filled with friends and fun, that I have so missed... It is so comfortable, so very comforting to my tired mind and soul.
Beautiful, beautiful weather, not a cloud in the sky-- as if there were not a single worry in the world. But another world, filled with stress and anxieties in a whole different place with completely different people in my life, is but a thought away...
Beautiful, beautiful weather, not a cloud in the sky-- as if there were not a single worry in the world. But another world, filled with stress and anxieties in a whole different place with completely different people in my life, is but a thought away...
20 May 2012
Succumbing to feelings
I promised myself I wouldn't not give in... I held back, and I think he did too.
But who was I feeling? How can two people, who have had strong feelings, physical and emotional attachments to one another, restrain themselves lying next to one another?
It was powerful, beautiful, lustful, and deeply invigorating. But it was also scary and I found myself questioning: What does this all mean? These passionate kisses, these soothing touches and strokes, these whispers of "I miss you sooo much"? What do they mean? Is there but me in his world, or am I just a shadow, a ghost he cannot dispel? I asked myself as I let go of my senses and surrendered to my desires "He is with me now, but who was he with yesterday? Who will be with tomorrow?"
Those are the unspoken things, the unasked and unanswered questions.
At the time, as our bodies and lips melted into one another, the answers and questions did not matter.
But afterwards the hesitation, insecurity and doubts haunted my thoughts and quelled my initial enthusiasm to be drawn closer to my ex. Because it could all just be temporarily. And I could be hurt all over again, and again and again.
But who was I feeling? How can two people, who have had strong feelings, physical and emotional attachments to one another, restrain themselves lying next to one another?
It was powerful, beautiful, lustful, and deeply invigorating. But it was also scary and I found myself questioning: What does this all mean? These passionate kisses, these soothing touches and strokes, these whispers of "I miss you sooo much"? What do they mean? Is there but me in his world, or am I just a shadow, a ghost he cannot dispel? I asked myself as I let go of my senses and surrendered to my desires "He is with me now, but who was he with yesterday? Who will be with tomorrow?"
Those are the unspoken things, the unasked and unanswered questions.
At the time, as our bodies and lips melted into one another, the answers and questions did not matter.
But afterwards the hesitation, insecurity and doubts haunted my thoughts and quelled my initial enthusiasm to be drawn closer to my ex. Because it could all just be temporarily. And I could be hurt all over again, and again and again.
Resting place
I woke up to a picture my brother sent me. Picture of mum's final resting place. I immediately called home and spoke to them for a while.
Mum I spoke to only briefly. Perhaps it's mr imposing meaning, but she sounded... content and calmer than before. She told me about her day out, how she was in my uncle (her brother's) new suv and how it wasn't as bad a journey as she imagined, for the new car was comfortable
and she could lie down and rest.
They drove to two places, and decided to settle at the same urn tower where dad's remains are kept.
"It's a good location, with good energy. I feel more at ease now that this has been decided..." Again, there was a hint of contentment in mum's voice. Contentment which I hope will last and shield her from whatever ordeals she must face in the coming period.
Brother filled me in on the rest. I listened most of the time, listened and imagined what the place looks like. I can imagine fairly well, for four years ago when dad passed away, we went looked around the same facility for a while before deciding on a place for him. So I know what the sixth, top, floor of the building looks like.
I listened and closed my eyes as brother told me about how their day was, and later how he got mum's will out of the deposit box because she'd like to make some changes. It's very heavy to deal with, and I had to lie down again and compose myself before starting my day. Again, there was a deep sense of and sense of alienation surrounding this all. I am here, half way around the world, while over there important things are ring decided.
What is my contribution to this all? Is all I must do now just go and attend the funeral...?
Mum I spoke to only briefly. Perhaps it's mr imposing meaning, but she sounded... content and calmer than before. She told me about her day out, how she was in my uncle (her brother's) new suv and how it wasn't as bad a journey as she imagined, for the new car was comfortable
and she could lie down and rest.
They drove to two places, and decided to settle at the same urn tower where dad's remains are kept.
"It's a good location, with good energy. I feel more at ease now that this has been decided..." Again, there was a hint of contentment in mum's voice. Contentment which I hope will last and shield her from whatever ordeals she must face in the coming period.
Brother filled me in on the rest. I listened most of the time, listened and imagined what the place looks like. I can imagine fairly well, for four years ago when dad passed away, we went looked around the same facility for a while before deciding on a place for him. So I know what the sixth, top, floor of the building looks like.
I listened and closed my eyes as brother told me about how their day was, and later how he got mum's will out of the deposit box because she'd like to make some changes. It's very heavy to deal with, and I had to lie down again and compose myself before starting my day. Again, there was a deep sense of and sense of alienation surrounding this all. I am here, half way around the world, while over there important things are ring decided.
What is my contribution to this all? Is all I must do now just go and attend the funeral...?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)