Affairs

Barely forty-eight hours after my return, I have had to go through two important experiences.

The insurance man came by mum's hospice room to discuss details of a large payout. She had insured herself against cancer a couple of years back, and the good thing is that every single hospital visit, overnight stay at the hospital (including the hospice) and every single treatment and operation is covered and even compensated by the insurance company. That was a relief to know, as the hospital bills, despite coverage by the national health insurance, have been mounting especially as mum opted for better treatment to deal with the tumour in her spine.

Then the insurance man came up to me and started explaining to me how in the event of mum's death a life insurance premium would be paid out. I was still tired from the jetlag because it was early afternoon, so  I was in a daze and wasn't really paying attention. Besides, I felt very uncomfortable as mum was right there in the room. He got out a piece of paper and asked mum to sign it in front of him. Mum grabbed a pen, and I could see her hand was shaking. What used to take seconds took literally minutes. Mum's signature was wobbly and a little off, and she struggled hard to hold the pen steady. But the insurance guy said that it should be fine, or otherwise they will call back and verify on the phone if necessary.

The very next day, I had to sneak away and 'lie' to mum where I was going. I said I was just going home to shower, as I had not been home for two days, but in fact I went to meet up with my brother and my uncle (mum's second brother), and we were going to the funeral planner to arrange affairs. We did not want to let mum know, fearing that it might offend her or make her think we are 'plotting' her passing. But we know these things have to be arranged and dealt with so we are not suddenly caught off guard, like we were last time with dad's passing.

We made our way to the funeral home to discuss details of where mum would have her farewell ceremony (funeral), where the cremation would be, and we even looked at urns (but didn't decide on one). Most important of all, we were looking for a place to honour mum straight after her passing and before her funeral, for according to Taiwanese tradition we must have a special altar dedicated to the deceased, where the spirit of the deceased can reside immediately after passing.

We looked at a few places, and either they were too crowded or too expensive. Ideally, we wanted to have it at home, like it was the case with dad, but the building manager of the apartment we live in told my brother the other day that it is not possible to do so, because the building managing committee decided to forbid anyone taking the deceased back home. It is very surprising , for why does it even matter what we do in the privacy of our own home? Further, how can a building committee suddenly do away from eons of tradition that has passed down from generation to generation as a way to honour and respect the deceased? None of us are happy about this, for it causes a lot of hassle, and may in the end end up costing us a lot of money if we have to hire a special room to "house" mum's spirit till the day of the funeral. The rent per day costs as much as a hotel room!

Shortly after lunch, we returned to the hospital together with a Toaist priest, one mum has entrusted her spiritual "affairs" to be arranged by (it is the same priest as the one who arranged my dad's funeral, one I had serious disagreements with and sometimes skeptical doubts about his ability to communicate with the dead...). The priest wanted to come see mum himself to see how her condition is, and also to ask her some questions.

The priest leaned over mum's bed, while brother sat by mum's side. I climbed onto the end of mum's bed and sat by her feet. We spent sometime discussing how she wanted her funeral to be, and what clothes she wanted. It was a difficult discussion, more because we were not sure how mum would respond to all this. But she looked very much at ease, and was very peaceful and seemed alright to be talking about this all. I showed her pictures of the dresses I thought she would like, pictures  I  had taken of her in those dresses when she wore them last.

Though tired and her voice was very feeble, we talked for quiet some time. I kept holding onto mum's hand, silently reassuring her things will be alright, and to tell her in a way, with  a 'human touch', that I hope the conversation was not too difficult or awkward.

The carer

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There's been a change of carer since I left, and I met her for the first time yesterday as soon as I walked through the door of Room 20 of Ward 211. She's a middle aged lady originally from (North) Vietnam, and her marriage to a Taiwanese husband brought her here many years ago.

She's probably just ten years or so younger than mum, and has this "motherly" look about her. I found out that she has two children of her own back in Vietnam, a girl who is just about finished high school, and a boy who's working now and doing college at night. So she is a mother, a hard working mother trying to make a living and support her family. I don't like to call her by her name, and instead call her "auntie" I've heard her laugh and talk at times when I call home, and it is interesting to put a face to the voice.

Mum says the carer is very loyal and dedicated. She massages mum whenever mum feels discomfort, she spoonfeeds mum and knows what mum likes and does not like. She really takes care of mum and tries to make her comfortable, which is exactly what mum needs right now. It really is very reassuring, for mum's every need is taken care of. It really is very different from back then, in March and April, when I had to more or less handle everything on my own. Brother has told me once or twice already to let the carer do things, like empty the garbage or wash the dishes, but I'm still not used to that. I really feel strange asking someone else, especially someone older, to do something I could easily do...

To be honest, I feel a bit "left out", because everything is being taken care of by the carer and sometimes I feel like I'm just standing there while she does what I used to do for mum-- ad does it all the better than I ever did or could.

This afternoon, we all sat down around mum and asked the auntie to stay on. We weren't sure if she would be willing, or whether she liked working for/with us. We would like her to stay, so we don't have to go through that whole adjustment process again when the new foreign carer we applied for comes at the end of the month. It really takes time and effort on both sides to get to know habits and to get used to ways of talking and interacting. And frankly, mum needs to be in a stable and secure environment, surrounded by people who she trusts and feels affinity towards. Surrounded by people who know her needs and can accommodate them.

The carer said yes, she would stay on. And there was a sigh of relief. We were all reassured and mum looked at ease.
Though, the carer put her agreement to stay on in such a way that was perhaps too blunt. "There may not be too much time, and I want to stay till the end..." Maybe it's a language issue, words being lost in translation, and I know that is the reality of things, but still, I was afraid of how mum might feel being reminded of that. The carer said she's aware of the situation, and she had proposed it earlier to my sister-in-law, and even declined another job offer because she did not know how long she would be needed.
We just have to try and figure out how to deal with details like retaining her services and see whether we can bypass the agent (human resources agency) so that the carer does not have to have a fee taken away from her salary.

She sits quietly by mum's bed a lot, often massaging mum and every so often asks mum whether she's hungry or thirsty. I may feel a little left out because she's doing a lot of what I used to do, but she's also doing much more. Helping mum get cleaned up, bathing her (with the aid of nurses in this amazing tub that has a " lift" to lower the patient slowly into the water for a deep cleanse...), helping mum use the washroom, emptying the bile that is collecting in the pouch at mum's right side. And the carer cleans and does household chores too, which makes me feel "bad" because she seems to hardly have time to rest.

Her presence is greatly appreciated, and it gives brother and me time take care of other things, and time to cook or buy what mum likes to eat or drink.

On this last stage of the journey, having extra support and someone to take care of mum means so much...

Approaching the end

Mum has said sentences to me over the past day or so, since I arrived back, which I pretend not to hear. I do hear them, and I think I know what she would like to say, but I'm just unsure what to respond.

"There isn't much time..." 時間不多了
"I am leaving soon..."

What do I say to that? I tell her not to think too much, not to be afraid. I reassure her by stroking her arm, holding her hand, playing with her face, or by lying at her feet. "I'll be here all the time... We're all here with you. Don't think or worry too much..."

I think this is how you assure someone. I need to ask the counsellors and volunteers who are walking around the hospice ward. But I believe telling the patient who knows her days are numbered that you will be there throughout the whole process helps.

I see mum blink a lot. I see her sort of move her mouth and tongue in a 'chewing' motion. Sometimes I see her face, her thin, bony face, tense up as if she is holding back tears and stopping herself from crying. There are dark shadows around her eyes, and due to the thinness of her face, the eye sockets seem especially prominent.

I smile at mum a lot, and sometimes nothing but smiles are exchanged. I'm not sure what she is thinking, and when I ask her, she casually says "Nothing much..." I know what I am thinking when I look at her...

How beautiful mum is, how lucky I am that she is my mother! Silently I wish her peace, silently I hope and wish and pray that she is not in too much discomfort... Silently, I hope that all this will not take too long, and that she can "go" quietly, gracefully and in the dignified way that, as one friend put it, is deceiving of a "Grande Dame".

1AM

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I was dreaming of flying and airports before the dreams were interrupted by a gagging sound. I turned my head, and saw mum vomit into a plastic bag. I remember this... I remember this all too well.

I rushed to her side. The carer already held the bag next to mum's mouth and was stroking mum's thin throat. Mum gagged and gagged. I held onto her had, which was hidden under her blanket. I looked at her with eyes that tried to comfort her, reassure her and remind her that I am by her side. A thought of choking, a gruesome image of mum chocking to death flashed across my mind...

Mum has become so thin. Her neck looks like that of a vulture, and is veiny and her bones are exposed under the thin flesh. I stroked mum's thin arm and held onto her hand. "It's ok... I'm here now. I'm here at your side no matter what..." I silently said.

A few more gagging sounds, and the discomfort mum was in seemed to have subsided. "Why is it like this...?" she asked, sounding puzzled and confused. I stroked her arm. I was reminded of what the doctor said hours earlier when he came in and when I asked him to update me on the latest. "The cancer is progressing. The duodenum and bile duct areas seem to have become blocked. That's why she has trouble eating now, and that's why she's throwing up more and more..."

"Go back to bed..." she said, "Go back to bed..." She looked at me with begging eyes. I know it pains her to vomit, not just because of the discomfort it causes her, but also because she feels "guilty" that it upsets me to see her sick and gag.

I stroked her arm a bit more, and patted her forehead and her hair. Her face has changed since I last saw her. She is thinner, more frail, bonier. I loathe to see her naked body, see how much of her body mass has been eaten away by the cancer to leave behind just bones and skin...

But cancer, you can change the way mum looks, you can rob her dignity and cause her to involuntarily vomit ad gag, you can "punish" her with vomiting and being sick... But I will continue to love her, hold her, stroke her arm and with the softness of my voice reassure her...

Brother tearing

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I saw him turn away for a few moments. I wasn't sure until he wiped the corner of his eyes. And when he turned back and tried to force a smile, I saw his eyes were moist and red.

What made him cry? Has brother been crying silently while I was away? He had just come to the hospital from home, where he slept. He found us on the rooftop garden. I was crouching next to mum, smiling I believe, and asking her what she would like for lunch. I proposed to go home and cook some fish soup and vegetables. Was that what made brother cry? Or perhaps the fact that I am finally back again, that I made it home, and that all that worry and fear of not making it back on time have been allayed made him cry?

It doesn't really matter what the reason was. What matters is that we are together as a family, and we will be together till the very end.

Back home...

It has been a  month, a month since I last saw mum, touched mum, hugged mum. I slowly opened the door to Room 20. Already during the long elevator ride to the twenty-first floor, my heart was pounding, my mind was wondering what I would see, how I would react to what I see. Nothing prepared me for the reality.

Things seemed to just happen, with nothing planned, nothing calculated. I opened the door slowly, and walked in. The first person I saw was the new carer, who sat resting on the sofa. Then I saw mum, who lay  on her bed and had her eyes open. She must have been counting the minutes to my arrival. Brother told me later that she was counting down the days till I arrived. And before I left home, I called to say I'd be there within fifteen minutes. Mum must have been watching the hands of the clock hanging on the wall opposite her bed.

Brother sat next to mum's bed. I approached him and wanted to hug him, but he was sitting down, and it was an awkward position, so instead I patted his back a couple of times instead. "I'm back... It must have been hard on you..."

Mum's eyes opened even wider seeing me. Everything happened so quickly. She lay in bed and barely moved, but she took her arms out from under her blanket. I leaned in close and wanted to hug her, but I was afraid also of crushing her under my weight. I put my arms gently around her, and it was then that I felt just how much she has thinned since I saw her last. I was afraid to hurt her, so I only lightly wrapped my arms around her and leaned  in closer to her cheeks. I pressed my cheeks against hers, and in her ear I whispered: "Mama, I'm back. I'm back. Sorry to keep you waiting for so long..."


We bonded starting with my long trek across half the globe to be back here. Fate was with me. In all my times of flying home, I have never landed at the downtown airport. Partly due to the prohibitive price of connecting in Tokyo to Taipei the same day I arrived (which was yesterday...), I decided to stay overnight and book a more affordable flight the next morning. As I was staying overnight, I decided to fly from Haneda (HND) to Songsan (TSA), which is downtown to downtown, instead of using the international airports which are both some distance away from Tokyo and Taipei. Fate was with me, for the very day I chose to fly into the downtown airport, Taiwan was ravaged by a terrible storm. The international airport I normally fly into (Taoyuan International, TPE) was shut down for several hours. Flights were redirected, baggage handlers could not go out to work because of lightning strikes. Passengers were stranded for several hours, some till midnight until the storm eventually died down. I was at the hospital within an hour of landing...

I carried very little to the hospital, and just had a plastic bag with me, albeit a big bag. I took out of graduation cap and placed it on my head. Mum smiled. She had seen pictures of me on facebook, but this is different. She could see me up close, feel the red and white tassel. She could (and did) personally wish me congratulations. I held her hand, stroked her head and her hair. "Thank you... thank you for everything you did to support me. This is for you, like it says in my thesis..." I hope she still remembers what I wrote on the acknowledgement page of my thesis, because this one is really for her. "The first degree was dedicated to dad. And this one to you," I said, "And if I choose to do a PhD, I wonder who I can dedicate it to. To my cat perhaps?" That made mum smile. When she smiled, she did not look like a patient. When she smiled, she was not afflicted by cancer. When she smiled, I do not notice the thinness of her arms, the dark tone of her skin, or the yellow hue of her eyes from jaundice... When she smiles, she is my beautiful mother as I will always remember her...

The nurses came in, a bunch of them. "You must be the second son!" Brother has been doing some broadcasting and prepared them for my arrival. "Your mum has been anticipating your return!" I was still wearing my graduation cap and leaning close to mum on her  bed. "Why, you two seem very close!" I was a little embarrassed.

That mum looks more ill than before did not escape me. I saw immediately she had trouble breathing, saw that her collar bones have now become clearly visible. I noticed how wrinkled her skin looks, how dry and also bloated her arms and legs were. From occasional grimaces and suppressed moans, I could tell mum was in some degree of discomfort. The details of her condition would be revealed later when I spoke to the doctor. "It's very unlikely she'll live more than three months. Two months, one months maybe. But every patient is different, and we will do what we can to make her comfortable..."

Nothing, not the feel of her bony arms, not what the doctor just told me, not the reality of mum lying in the hospice ward scared me or made me cry. It was not as I expected at all. Strangely, ever since I stepped into the hospice, I could only smile at mum. Smile as I rubbed her arms, smile as I stroked her hair and head, smile as I recounted my month away in Canada. Smile as I reassured her that I would be with her no matter what...





I stayed with mum the entire day and night

At TSA

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"Is mum ok?" I asked brother on the phone while I waited for my suitcase to come out. What kind of question was that? What I wanted to know was wether I had time to go home first and put my suitcases down before heading to the hospital. What I meant to ask, but substituted with "Is mum ok?" was: she is still hanging on, right? I'll still get to see her, right?

That's what I meant. Crude, but that's the truth. Brother told me to go home, and warned me traffic might be horrible due to a torrential downpour last night and this morning. Indeed, the sky was so thick with clouds all the way from Japan, and it was only when we were close to the ground that I could see buildings and such. The rain cancelled classes and work.

Strange that on the day I arrive, there would be such a rainfall...
Does it mean anything, if anything?

At TVG

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At mum's room, which has a little guest room attached to one side. I'll be sleeping here, most likely everyday till... I'm not sure till when.

I am extremely tired, and struggling am hard to keep my eyes from opening. So far, a lot of smiles and lots of time spent sitting next to mum and holding her hand.

So it feels like I never left and am back to the hospital where I've spent so many weeks with her and sleeping at her side...

Dream

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I saw mum. She was lying in the hospital bed. She had such difficulty breathing. She looked at me, her gaze was confused and she seemed lost. I held onto her hand.

"Let's go home, mama... Let's leave the hospital..." I said. I was calm, so surprisingly calm and collected. (would I really be like this when that moment comes...?)

I woke up. It was only six in the morning. It was the third time I woke up in the night, every time due to some dream the details of which I cannot remember. But they all had mum in them. They all took place at the hospital.

Mum is holding on. She wants to see me, she wants me to be there. Perhaps she is holding on long enough for me to arrive., so that I am spared the pain of watching her suffer and watching her deteriorate even further...

I am almost home, mum... Sorry I kept you waiting for so long... I am almost home. Please hang on there...

To TVG

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Heading to the hospital. Just dropped off my bags and grabbed a hotdog to fill my stomach. Grabbed a light change of clothes, my graduation cap and degree, and now on the way.

Hospice ward 21, room 21... I am not sure what sight or experience await me as I open that door.

I hope I can keep myself together. For mum, for my family, and for my own sake.

Landed at NRT

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Just landed at Narita Airport. Much of the flight I spent asleep. I don't know why I was so very tired. I needed the sleep. Sleep to replenish my body's energy levels. Sleep also to keep the sadness and floating feelings at bay.

Looked out the window as we approached. A thought crossed my mind: next time I see this scenery from the air most likely a lot of things will have changed. What would I be feeling? In what mindset would I be in? When would that be?

Closer and closer I am approaching home... Sooner and sooner, I will be at mum's side.

Tokyo Tower

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On top of the Tokyo Tower. I almost cried when I saw it glowing at a distance. My dream to visit it finally came true. My dream to walk around its base was realised...

Why is this visit so symbolic? The tower stands not just as the symbol of a nation and a city, but it features prominently in the movie "Tokyo Tower: Mom and me, and sometimes dad"-- a movie I have yet to watch, but a movie I need to watch to process a lot of the emotions and experiences I have had and am about to undergo in the coming period.

This beautiful tower, which stands so tall and brave shines like beacon in this massive sprawl of glass, concrete and steel teeming with activity and life.

As mum is getting weaker and throwing up more at the hospice ward, being here touches a deep chord of my heart and makes my spine tingle...

HND-TSA

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On board Eva Air plane which will take me straight to downtown Taipei. To my surprise, it is another Hello Kitty jet. Life is full of unexpected surprises...

A quick turnaround in tokyo, and now on the final leg of my journey home. This is such a difficult journey. My heart is racing and my mind is so agitated. The contrast of my feelings and the cuteness of the plane interior is extreme. I just got a reply from my friend, the one who has gone before down this difficult, difficult road of losing one's mother. She wrote: "... do not question the events, just live them. What has to come, will come."

What is coming? I think I know. I have been told to expect the worst. Brother said mum's condition has further deteriorated. She has difficulty eating, and half a bowl is already a lot for her. "Don't force her to eat, because she'll get very upset. Just listen to what she wants and accord her her wishes. Don't argue with her..." brother told me.

"And don't cry. It'll hurt her if you cry. If you need to cry, go outside. Don't be surprised by what you see..."

What will I see? How has mum changed since i was with her last? How will she has deteriorated that will make my heart break and me break down? I do not know. I do not know what to expect. But it will be a test... Test of my endurance, test of my faith and courage, and test of whether the teachings of impermanence and letting go is truly ingrained in me. Did the period of pre-mourning when I was back in Canada help?

I will find out soon enough.

I must remind myself that it is ok to cry (when mum is not around...). And it is ok also not to cry. I must remind myself that the absence of tears does not equate the absence of feelings or emotions. Instead, it may signify the ultimate level of serenity, reached when you know you've done everything you can with what the time and means you have been given. And I believe I have given mum everything I possibly could...

Whatever happens from now, whatever I see and experience just will be...
Whatever will be will be.

YVR-NRT

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On board plane, taxiing to take off with an hour of delay. Am so tired I slept on and off that entire hour.

So tired I cannot feel anything, and the significance of this trip has not dawned on me yet. I keep on feeling I should feel something. I keep on thinking this will be the "last" trip in a series of trips I've been making to visit mum. I keep on trying to imagine how it will be to see her again after one month... But nothing seems to affect me. Nothing seems to affect me the way I feel I should be affected. Or perhaps I am expecting to feel too much?

No tears, no tears yet... But the lack of tears do not mean anything, right?

YUL-YVR

Yul-YVR

100612.1015 YVR time

I slept for the duration of the entire flight. So tired I was, so tired I was not even in a state to feel sad or to cry. In fact, I felt somewhat excited to be boarding the plane. Strange, because this is the beginning of a very long and perhaps the most difficult trip I will ever have to make...

I was alone at the airport. My ex said how terribly apologetic he is he cannot be there to send me off. He said how he wished he were there. But he was not. He was with his boyfriend, at the house of the "in-laws". He gave me a hug last night just before he went. I was cold and distant. I did not hug back. He tried to hug me again. I felt nothing. Nothing. Not even when he whispered in my ears "I will deal with things". I did not even look him in the eyes. I got in the taxi and did not look back.

How did we get from being so comfortable in the same bed earlier in the morning to such an abrupt and unfeeling goodbye? He took a day off to attend my graduation, but a series of mishaps ruined "his holiday" (as he put it...). He went to deal with things, to break it off with his boyfriend. He wanted to talk to me first, to tell me how difficult it is all for him and how he hates to hurt people. He asked for my understanding, saying he must spend at least one night with his boyfriend. He says he can understand how I must be feeling right now as I am leaving. But he cannot understand. He does not understand. Otherwise he would be with me, comfort me and talk to me, instead of spending time with his boyfriend. He calls me "unfair" for wanting to spend more time with him. He calls me "unfair" for not understanding who he must spend at least one night out of three with his boyfriend.

But who am I to judge? Who am I, but a home-wrecker, to say he cannot spend time with his boyfriend? Who am I to get upset? I was not upset. Just disappointed. Of all days, of all moments I need someone to talk to, I need someone to see me off, he cannot be there. Just how much reassurance does that give me when he says again and again he will be there for me and wants to build a life with me? He can tell me so much, but when it is the time when I need someone most, when I am about to go on a trip that is so heavy and terrifying in many ways, he is not there... Is that not very telling of how he feels about me and how (un)important I am to him?

Too much time has been spent on this issue... Too much energy spent on something that could have been dealt with long ago. But my ex did not have the courage to do it. He chose to pretend things are all normal with the other guy, and yet simultaneously harbour such strong feelings for me and dream of being with me. He chose to maintain the charade of a relationship, while on the side he's been intimate with me every weekend since he knew of my return. I can only take my responsibility for seeing him, for sleeping with him. Because I do care about him, because I do care about him a lot and appreciate him for the happiness and fun I've only been able to have with him... I do see a possibility to start anew, to rid ourselves of our tortured pasts and to stop blaming one another for past wrongs and faults. But how can we even do that when he is still in an unresolved relationship?

How can we even become intimate and not hold back when we kiss or touch one another when my ex feels so guilt ridden, so tortured and pained?  How can anything develop if he cannot even let go of his current relationship? How can he make me feel I can trust him and be with him, when he seems to be unable (or unwilling?) to break things off with the other person?
It really is unfortunate, and the timing of my leaving and his intended day of breakup (only he knows what he really intends to do, only he knows whether he really does breakup...) is terrible awkward.

But I am away now, approaching Vancouver, and soon I will cross the Pacific and disappear into the obscurity of the crowdedness and time zone difference of Taiwan.

As I told him, I will be gone soon. So what has changed? How will things be different after I return to Taiwan? How will things be different after these four weekends spent together?

I am leaving. Everything is behind me now, and i am getting further and further away from it all. If my ex still chooses to maintain his relationship, despite his promises to break it off with his boyfriend, so be it. If that is the case, he is the one who has to continue living and sleeping with deep guilt and shame. He is the one who must keep on pretending, keep on living lies and put on masks. And how tiring that must be...

There are really more important matters waiting for me ahead. And I need all the energy and devotion to focus on those matters, and cannot afford any longer to be distracted or burdened by something that has dragged on for far, far too long...

Tears

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We hugged in the middle of the street. She cried, and I cried. I alway thought her as a strong girl, an strong outgoing and confident girl, but she was shedding tears. For me, because of me. I cried more...

All the years we've known one another, she has been supportive in many ways. She always manages to bring a smile to my face, her parents were such darlings to me when I visited them. And here she was crying with me as we said goodbye.

"You are so inspirational. You're so strong..." she said, "You are a good son, and it is reflective of your mother."
Her words made me cry more.

I hugged her, kissed her, and she kissed me. There is so much I wanted to say to her, and to her parents, for they have been so supportive ad encouraging. I did not have the words, only deep, deep gratitude.

"I look forward to visiting you and your parents again when this is over..." I said. It is another thing I want to do to help me recover, to help me find myself and be strong again after everything is all over. I know I need it. I know I need friends and trips and things to look forward to when things come to a close.

She told me again I am always welcome, and that I need not hesitate to call or write whenever. I hugged her again. The hugs said so much with so little. Love, compassion, understanding, "Mitleid" (German for "suffering with" someone, or loosely translated as sympathy/empathy), "medeleven" (Dutch word for "living with" someone, again a term for which there is no english equivalent...).

"Thank you... Thank you for so much..." I said.

"Shush! We are all here for you..."

And that means so much to me.
That means the world to me, and means that there is a life after death...

Graduation

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It still has to sink in what it all means. What holding this piece of paper (degree), what being a graduate really means.

I was just dazed today. Dazed and lost and emotional. So many people were there with me, so many stood by my side and congratulated me. But I was so "out of it", so lost at moments all the speeches that were made, all the pomp and ceremony, all the congratulatory words that were said just washed over me and did not register...

I appreciate so much how people made special plans just to be with me. How they went to all the effort to take time off, to journey here and to get dressed just to be able to stand with me and hug me, to hold me, to tell me how hard I've worked and how courageous I have been despite all odds.

I appreciate it all greatly, really I do. My ex took his first day ever off of work to be here. A friend, a classmate from the same year I began, took several days off to celebrate. Another friend pre-poned her return to Canada just to attend my graduation. Another traveled especially to Montreal just for one day to attend my graduation, before she had to fly back to London (UK) the very next day...

These are such grand gestures I did not feel I deserve, and they are true signs of how much the friends mean to me, and I guess also how much I seem to mean to them.

But I sat there today in the auditorium and was overcome with sadness. The valedictorian gave a speech about being grateful to family, friends and pets for our achievements. I am, but how I so wish mum were by my side to see all of this... To see me walk up on stage and see me in a split moment of honour and glory... I teared a couple of times during the ceremony. And that split second when my name was called I was not there. I was like a zombie walking across the stage, a zombie trying to force a smile, trying to be happy. I'm not sure anyone noticed. But the pictures that a friend took of me sitting there waiting for my name to be called certainly did...

Graduation day

I called mum. It was one in the morning, one in the afternoon for her. I saw her, she saw me. She looked so thin, and her hair looked somehow as if it had thinned. She looked so ill, so scary, so weak. Her lips moved up and down like fish, as if she were gasping for air. Whatever she looks like, she is my mother, my ex reminded me.

She mumbled something. I could not hear her. She moved her thin arm slowly, and her thin, thin fingers seemed to rub her eyes. She probably had idea I could see her, see her every move.

"I've never once made it to your graduation..." she said again. "Not once..."

"It's just a ceremony..." I said, though my heart wrenched terribly inside.

How I wish mum could be with her, how I wish my family could be with me. I am so fortunate to be surrounded by friends who love me and care about me, who have journeyed from various far away places just to see me and just to be with me on this special day... But I miss my family. I wish I could walk down that podium tomorrow and walk into mum's arms, and whisper to her: "This is for you, dear mother... This is for you..."

Mum turned away and curled up in a foetal position. "I am tired..." she said. Her eyes were wide open, she looked so small, so fragile, so much like a little child. Like a little child I so want to protect and keep away from harm...

"Take care," I said, "Sleep well..."

I waited till brother hung up the phone. But even with the darkened screen of the computer, the image of mum lying there, curled up, thin to the bone and with wide open eyes bulging out o her sockets, stayed with me and haunted me. The tears waited till brother hung up the phone, and then they fell.

Flying home

I was already awake, but too tired to get up and start the day. My phone rang. It was my brother.

I had waited for him to call till two in the morning. The fatigue brought me to sleep. Half past eight he rang and talked about the day and visit of the hospice carer and family doctor. "It's time..." they said. Time to enter hospice care. She is now on the waitlist for a room.

Brother kept on saying it's not yet that serious, and told me to stay put. But really what does it mean to enter the hospice ward?

I know, some people go in and ate discharged home a week or two later. But some never make it out.

Brother talked more about arrangements. At this stage, a close friend of mum's suggested looking at a place where we can place her altar foe the period from her passing to her funeral. Brother mentioned more about insurance payouts and inheritance. I listened, but not much of it registered. I know it is important, but it's just money, right? Money... Money.

I proceeded to book a ticket, flying out Sunday (four days from now). I hesitated to buy a ticket, hesitated and shopped around for a convenient flight that would allow me to fly with an upgrade on the long journey back to Taiwan (and back here, eventually). I know, how can I even think of luxury (and collecting air miles) at this point? But I think I really need it, I really need it to prepare myself mentally for the journey.

It will be a long trip, lasting a day and a half, and I should get there on Tuesday afternoon local time. Brother told me to wait a few more days till I buy a ticket, but I cannot wait. I want to know when I'm going back, I want to have the security of a ticket...

Things may change, circumstances may deteriorate, but at least now there is a date and a time...

Job offer

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

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

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

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

Day before graduation

It's so easy to be distracted and not to think of home and what is happening at home. It is so easy to "hang around" with friends and just be lost in pleasure and smiles, just to forget mum is at the hospice ward.

Three more days, and I will know what it feels like to have "escaped" and to have been away from the realities of mum's current state...

Circus night

I saw the promotion yesterday and immediately had the urge to go. again, because of mum, as strange as it may sound. She and I went to Cirque du Soleil (Totem) around this time last year. I promised her to do that in Quebec, the home base of the amazing acrobatic troupe. And I lived up to that promise.

I called mum half way through the show and excitedly told her about where I was. "Oh, it's really cultured..." she said. I know she has fond memories of the show. The first time she saw it was with me in Taipei. The second time was with me, right here, right at the same location in Montreal, a year (or so) ago.

The show was spectacular, the performance elegant and performers beautiful. But my mind was filled with thoughts... Me flying, me waiting at te airport, the fear of not making it home on time, me at the hospital, mum sleeping and opening her eyes only briefly every few hours... So many thoughts and distractions...

After the show I saw several missed calls from brother. I called back.

"We're heading into the hospice ward now..." he said "There's a bed available."

My heart sank and felt so heavy. Earlier when I spoke to mum, she said she had troubled breathing and that her heartbeat was very weak. I told her to hang on. I told her that I'll be home Tuesday afternoon. She told me not to rush...

I hung up the phone. My friend was next to me. "It's not easy... You're so strong going through this. I can't imagine what you are feeling now..."

I cannot either.

Breakdown

I was talking on the phone with my ex. "I just hope she is not in too much pain..." he said.

"I hope so too... I hope so too..." I uttered.

"I wish I could give you  a big hug..." he said. And the tears just broke loose from my eyes. I had t cut short the conversation and just cry and whimper. I could not bear to speak to anyone. I had no words, and was so very tired, so hurting inside.

The whole evening I have been waiting for brother to call back, as he said he would. I called earlier in the evening to see how mum is doing. They were busy, as for the first time the hospice nurse and a doctor came around to check up on her. They are putting her in the queue for a bed at the hospice ward. They want to take her in for some IV drips. At the hospice ward...

I broke down, because I could not bear the thought of mum entering there. As I told my ex, "It is the first time she's going there. Maybe the only time..."

I cried for a while on my own while my cat nudged me and walked around my feet. It is her way of comforting me, I know it, I feel it.

Brother still has not called back, and I tried to call twice already but there was no response.

It will be a long night...

Leaving

We can have fun, we can enjoy each others company, we can lie next to one another, and yet there is always one thing between us. My ex is torn and conflicted.

The fragility of our 'relationship' was again unveiled last night, on the eve of my departure, when after a nice evening out, we came home and he said he needed to make a phone call. I went to take a shower. When I came out of the shower, he sat there and had this anxious look on his face.

I can imagine how he must be feeling. Having to pretend, having to perhaps lie and hide on the phone to his boyfriend, and having to face me. The awkwardness was not just felt by me. He felt it too.

He asked me what I was thinking. And i told him it's not nice to have a good few days and suddenly he has to go off and call. It just feels all too much like three years ago, when he was interested in me, interested in starting something with me, and yet still cannot get the courage to break it off with his ex.

He turned around and told me to take some responsibility. I should have foreseen this, I should have known how difficult it is for him to be spending time with me while he is still officially with someone else.

I take responsibility for visiting him, for lying next to him, for sleeping with him. But I will not take responsibility for the situation he is in. He knew already back at the end of February how he feels, truly feels, about me. He declared his feelings for me, he said he did not have want he wanted or needed. I distanced myself from him purposely to give him time and space to deal with whatever he needs to deal with, but it was not enough apparently. He said it was unfair of me to just suddenly drop a postcard and "summon" him to meet at a place and at a time (I thought otherwise... I thought it was romantic and so very special...) He said it's unfair of me to ignore him for so long and not to say explicitly what I want. But is it not clear what i want when the last two weekends I have taken the effort to drop everything and just go and see him?

He wants me to take responsibility, to talk to him and somehow be involved with his breakup (if that is truly what he wants). His reasoning is because he's doing this to be with me.

But truly, I fail to see what role I can play in a relationship he started on his own, a relationship I've tried so hard not to intervene in or get in the way of. He just does not want to feel guilty or take the full responsibility for having to break someone's heart. He just does not have the guts to open his mouth and break up, and he asks me to be there to support him.

In what capacity I don't know. How can I be there and talk to him about what he should do, when he could one day turn back and say to me "I did this all for you! You forced me into breaking up! You were telling me all these things!"?

This entire episode is very telling o what kind of a person my ex is, and it does nothing to quell my doubts and fears about getting back together with him. I sometimes really get the feeling he just does not want to face things, avoids them and wants people to be there to hold and comfort him, when really a lot of things are his own doing. He chose to breakup with me. He chose to start a relationship. He knew fully well a few months into the relationship, and perhaps even before the relationship, things would not work out in the long run. And yet he's not strong enough to let it go, to put an end to things. He's still making the other person believe there is something there, when at the same time making me believe there is a possible future.

There can be no future if he cannot deal with this very issue on his own. There cannot be a future if he cannot have a clean break from the past and really feels ready to move on.

Everything is in his hands now, as I said to him. But he seems to want to take my hand and hold it while he makes up his mind and gathers up his courage...

平安就是福

平安就是福


"Being safe and without mishap is a blessing" mum said. And she hung up the phone.

Fresh start?

Just as I thought it would be a fresh start, just as we're headed out to dinner, my ex says he has to call. To "report in" I guess.

Five minutes, he said, and told me to go ahead and wait and the restaurant. It's been over ten.

How did I get myself into this position again? How did I fall for the same guy who is already involved with another person? It feels like three years ago, when my ex had to "report in" to his ex back then, and had to sneak around and hide things, even though he was with me and having fun with me...

Sitting alone in the restaurant, waiting and waiting for him to show. I could jut leave, I should just leave. Around me are couples in love, couples holding one another's hands. I can't even comfortably do that with my ex...

How did I get myself into this? Why do I get myself into this? Do I never learn how humiliating and uncomfortable it is to be the "other person"?

Rush

Why do I put myself through this? There is no reason really. Why do you do anything? Why do you love someone or feel such an urge to see someone suddenly, even if it means waking up early and getting on a plane to go see him?

I know. Perhaps one day I'll regret it all. Perhaps I'm just under the spell of feelings and being manipulated into running back into his arms again. Perhaps my ex is stringing my heart and feelings and just trying to see where things are going before he breaks up his relationship. Perhaps I'm just too gullible to buy into his excuses and reasons...

But I just want so company, I just want some sense of familiarity and comfort. And more than anyone else in the world, he offers me that. He offers me that, and the possibility of a new start together... And that is worth going for, that is worth trying, is it not?

Unable to eat

I asked this question before: how long can a person last if she were unable to eat?

Brother said he has been trying to see if the hospital can send someone home to administer iv nutrients, because frankly what mum eats during the day is not enough to sustain her bodily needs.

"She told me again she wants to go to the hospital..." Which is something rare, for she detests hospitals. But perhaps she feels that she cannot go on for long without proper nutrition. "But don't worry, don't rush back here. It's not necessary..."

Moments later, mum came on the phone. She "complained" that calling twice a day is calling too often. I tried to joke that it's just breakfast and dinner. I don't call at lunch, because it's far too late for me given the time difference.

"I have so little 'meat' on my arse it hurts to sit long..." she complained. Those words seemed to slide over me, and I did not have a response. I was not sure what I could say that did not sound fake. And truth be told, I was rushing to catch a flight to go see my ex in a last-minute decision I made just a few hours earlier before I fell asleep.

"Nothin tastes the same anymore... I had some grapes and they tasted spicy," mum said. Spicy, as in the taste of chilly. How can something sweet taste like chilly?

"I did have a cup of fruit juice, which your brother made, and I finished it all. But I felt so bloated after that..."

I did not have a proper response to mum's complaints. What could I say? Really, what could I say? So very very little...

Evening with friends

Just laughing, joking, sharing stories and (s)escapades over glasses of wine and good food. It was a wonderful evening with friends, and for a couple of hours there seemed to be not a worry in the world. It is something I've so missed, something I've been long for. Something that makes me feel so young and alive and glad to have wonderful friends.

I know this is what I need to maintain. I know there will come a day when I come back here and I will need this kind of reminders of how life can be, of how life can go on after even the most difficult and traumatic of experiences...