New baby

My niece, not yet born, was supposed to arrive almost two weeks ago. But to date, she is still hanging around in my sister-in-law's big belly.

Almost two weeks late, and the doctor said they are going to induce the birth. They did that yesterday. I'm not sure what the details are, but it is projected she should/will be born today. It is 7am in Europe now...

any minute, any moment perhaps...

May it be a successful birth, may mother and child be healthy and well...

Memory

The other night as I was sitting in my condo flooor (not much furniture yet...) An image, a memory popped into my mind...

It was a few weeks after mum bought that home in the Netherlands, it was 1998. September, or October it must have been, the season for terrible storms and rainfall. It rained for days, and someone , probably my brother discovered that the ceiling of the small bedroom was damp in one corner of the room. And that damp soon became a leak.

Mum's , I could see, became distraught. Brother and I rushed out into the rain to inspect the source of the leak... We secured a piece of plastic to divert the flow of the rainwater so it wouldn't go into the walls. That temporarily eased the dampness and flooding.

That night, I saw mum kneeling on the floor of that bedroom, praying to the gods for the problem to go away... Praying perhaps that it is not such a big problem. The next day or so it stopped raining.

That image of mum kneeling on the floor praying will stick with. It brings a tear to my eye to see that before me now... Mum on the floor. I stood quielty behind her and felt so touched. Did I also kneel and pray behind her? I forget. But that moment showed a mother's love, and that deep deep care and worry she felt having bought a place for my brother and I to live in and becoming so distraught knowing that the house leaks...

The leakage was fixed a few months later, at great cost. We had to ask dad to transfer a lot of money for that repair. Between that first leak and the roof being repaired, there were many nights I am sure mum could not sleep easy. Even the ceiling of my bedroom began to become damp and leak. I would at times use a basket to collect the water. My bed and duvet would become damp and have white flakes of paint on them. Mum left to go back to Taiwan shortly after that. That was the start of me living alonex the start of our separation.

I miss mum... I miss dad...

I have a condo now. My first home.
And now I wish my parents could be there to share my joy, to share my memories like these, to share my pride, to share my pain.

Flowers

I wasn't sure what to say when my friend told me that his mother, who's been doing chemo, is not doing so well. Just feeling nausea, sick and much tougher as the treatment progresses.

My mind conjured that horrible image of a frail patient will sunken eyes and thin cheeks, criss crossed the with the image I have of the mother , whom I saw in person about a month or so ago. How she must be feeling... How my friend must be feeling...!

Do you ask more questions to express concern and care? Or do you quietly wait for the other to tell you more details? I'm not sure... But as my friend told me how unwell his mother is, the first thought that came to my mind was get her flowers.

Flowers can say so much... Flowers can really brighten someone'S day, even when the days are grueling and terrible to bear...
I sent her some a few months ago , and she absolutely loved the forsias and said the fragrance filled the house.

Anything... Anything to lighten up the mood, to distract and make life and living a little more bearable , just that little push toward getting better again , helps.

At least I think so. I know so.
May those flowers, the fragrance and colours brighten her day tomorrow...

Cancer is tough, oh so tough.
May cancer patients have the strength and will to go on and have that gentle calm to cope with the effects of this tiring battle...

New beginning

Sitting on the floor of the new condo in downtown Toronto. I didn't think this day would come so soon. The view from my balcony, of the CN tower, of the crowd of skyacrappers and dazzling lights, is spectacular. I feel excited, and also breathless. 

I am a home owner now. First time buyer and home owner.

There isn't much in terms of furniture. I'm just here to collect the keys and haven't moved in officially yet. That day will come later in the year. Today, a friend helped me take some essentials to just set up. And we drove the six or so hours from Montreal to Toronto. I slept a bit in the car  , had to as I only slept two hours the night before trying to finish off a deadline. The weather was hot and sunny, and everything went so smoothly. The lawyer called at around 230pm and said the deal finally closed and that I could pick up my keys. I did, along with a bunch of papers.

And then I went to pick up the foldable mattress, the one I used to sleep on whenever I stayed with mum, 

the one that has so many memories of those tumultulous times when she was doing treatment... I'm sleeping on the same mattress tonight, the first night in my new condo.

I say quietly admiring the city and the empty apartment. What will it look like in the future? I have some renovation work planned, I have furniture and appliances to buy. I know what I want...

And all I can think, as happy as I am, is how much I wish mum and dad were here to see me in this condo, how much I wish they could be here right now and stay just one night and experience this special first night with me...

I wrote to my uncle and sent him some pictures. I told him how excited I am, yet also how grateful I am that because of mum and dad's sacrifices and hard work, I have all this and can live with relatively little worry now and can live so comfortably..

New condo... Here is to a bright new beginning and farewell to the past. 

Dream... death of my cat

I went out and came home late last night (upset, as the friend I was supposed to share a taxi with ditched me and went home with another after I'd been waiting for him for over an hour...), so I decided to take an afternoon nap.

Just as I was getting into bed, my two cats for some reason started to fight fiercely on the arm chair. It was horrible! I've never seen them like that before, biting, scratching, screaming, refusing to let go of one another. I shouted at them, and ran toward them to break them up, chasing after each cat and hit them on their backs so they know it's wrong. But they continued to chase after one another and bite one another. I had to pull them apart and separate them... what a fierce fight, like nothing I have ever seen.

I napped and dreamt... I saw the two cats wounded and hurt, there were big bloody bruises on both cats, and their fur was matted with dried blood. They looked sorry, and were whimpering. I picked up my female cat, the little one I've had for over six years now, and she lay like a baby in my arms. She closed her eyes, and stopped moving...

I was so distraught and couldn't stop crying. I howled and frantically, in the dream, tried to shake her to 'shake' her awake. But she died there and then in my arms.

I woke up, and felt such pain of loss and pain of losing someone so dear I have not felt since losing mum. I had tears in the corners of my eyes. I couldn't bear it and felt suffocated...

What intense dream...

Cancer, cancer all around...

The other day, a friend I have not met for some time and I were talking, and we recounted some of the things that have happened over the past few years. It has been a decade since we first met, and how much has happened in both our lives, and how we have been there to support one another through difficult and memorable times.

She was there when I got the phone call from my mother, who sounded so distraught and asked me to go home. Dad was in intensive care, and I rushed home. I remember just before I left and said goodbye to her, we stood by the tramtracks in The Hague. She shed tears in a show of compassion, and we hugged so tightly. I returned home and dad passed a day later.

Little did I know that would be the start of the "cancer era"-- a period lasting now over 8 years in which I have been so affected by people around and in my life who have been afflicted with cancer. My own mother, who struggled till three years ago... and two of my relatives, close friends, the mother of a friend, more recently the mother of another close friend...

"It seems like you have been given a gift,"my friend told me. Gift in the sense I am able to cope with cancer and all that it brings. It affects me deeply, but I am somehow able to stand still and strong and offer support and care to so many around me. (more recently, I detoured on my travels to visit the mother of a friend and that seemed to give her much comfort and support...). Of course, in all of this, I am but a bystander. Yet, in experiencing cancer from a distance , I have gained skills and know a lot more about side effects, getting better and stronger, and most of all am able to offer that emotional support that others do not necessarily have. That is the gift. The gift of compassion, of "suffering with" (Mitleid /  medeleven) that you must experience in order to offer. It is extremely powerful, and in a way, I am blessed with it.

As I was speaking to the lawyer who is involved in closing the condo purchase, somehow the conversation drifted to the topic of cancer. She sounded tired, and looked so exhausted and frail, and she reveiled her father has been battling cancer for over 8 years. It is getting worse... cancerous sores on the skin, on the arms, and they have been in and out of hospital so often that she just feels physically sick hearing that word "hospital". We spoke, and she lamented how she is haunted by all this and has trouble sleeping, how she is afraid of losing the father for they are so close, inseparable.
She spoke of how she has felt distant toward friends and people who have no idea, absolutely no idea, how it is to deal with illness and death. 





I listened and emphathised. Sometimes all you need to do is listen. And as you are listening, you feel the goosebumps and that warmth deep inside because you know exactly how that feels... maybe not exactly because feelings are so personal and so unqiue, but you know you have a much better understanding than others and that in those feel moments, the suffering, pain and desperatation of another fellow human being is being echoed and reflected back. It is the universe's way of connecting people who are like-minded and bringing them together to make them collectively stronger.

At the end of the conversation, I gave her a long, big hug. It may have seemed inappropriate for it was our first encounter and we had never met before (only spoken on the phone) . But it was most appropriate. It was more powerful and meaningful than words could ever express or say.

Toronto awaits

On my way to Toronto again, second time in a week. Only a one day trip, and in a few days I'll be back again. Today is just to meet to lawyer (well, just... It's very important!) and sign the key documents and transfer of title. And more importantly, give the bankers draft containing the down payment to the lawyer for her to hold in trust until next Monday when the deal closes. And the house is mine. Finally mine after almost six weeks since we started this entire process.

As I entered the airport just now, I heard this sound... The sound of an announcement about to be made. It made me think of mum suddenly... Made me think of dad... Made me think of that time when I took mum to Trudeau Airport and sent her on her way to Europe, in style, in business class. I knew, behind my apparent smiles, that it would most likely be the last time ever she would visit me in Canada. But , by the grace of the universe, it was such a beautiful visit filled with adventures, memories and fine experiences... Whaling in the St Laurent, riding the Rockie Mountaineer, lounging in the Fairmont, canoeing on Lake Louise... I raced to the river side park at the end of the run way and I waited for her plane to take off. I cried, partly from joy, partly from that sense of loss and longing, for I knew somehow that would be the last time I would ever see mum in Canada...

How fortunate I am to be able to shuttle between cities, board a flight whenever I wish and to pop in and out and do what I need to do and finalise my first home. Everything seems to be going so smoothly, so as I wished (...I just hope that bankers draft is lying there in the bank branch as I hope it would!!) How fortunate I am to be here, to be able to do what I wish without worry, without too much concern...

My colleague and I were speaking yesterday about how we first met as classmates back in 2008. He said I hardly smiled, he said he thought I was an angry and unapproachable person. And he saw he saw the pictures of my graduation were so terrible, for I looked so dreadful. Surrounded by people who had come from so far away to celebrate and congratulate me, yet I looked so miserable...

Indeed, how heavy I have felt for so long, how weighed down by life , illness and death for so long, and tried to make the most of things, tried so hard to get by and make sense of the unknown and the constant fear of loss and trying to overcome loss (of dad). My friend now understands why I did not smile, why it is I looked so miserable. Behind every face, behind every person is a story.

And mine is laden with struggles to deal and make sense of illness and death, loss and departures. Now I am standing strong, standing stronger than I have ever been for the past seven years or so (since 2008, the year dad passed and mum started intense treatment).

It looks beautiful out the window, almost completely clear blue sky, pristine lake and waters, beautiful wooded areas and building popping into view.

Toronto awaits.

Reflections

In life , you must ask yourself whether what you do, what you say, what you think are really what you should be doing, saying and thinking. We must always, as humble human beings, pause and reflect. We are not born full of sin, as some choose to believe, but neither are we blameless or flawless. For we are all human.

So when someone says to you you have changed, you have become a different person, it is cause for reflection. How have I changed? How different am I now from who I was? All things , all people change... But is it to be better, to be more spiritual, be more human, or is it to be more self absorbed and conceited?

These are questions that you should always ask yourself. At the end of the day, it is your conscience you have to sleep with, it is your conscience you have to wake up to...

Can you live with yourself? Really, can you live with your own decisions, with the things that you have done and said? Can you honestly sleep peacefully and know that you are an honest and kind (not just nice for the sake of being nice!) person?

Reflect on this.
Sleep on this.
And do not let what others say about you or to you cast doubt on your very being.

Because you are who you are. And at the end of the day you must live with who you are.

Becoming uncle second time

I called my brother yesterday and spoke to him and my sister in law. She looked so healthy and gloat, and is heavily pregnant. Expected due date is today, but the day came and went without news. The only news I did get was a sudden Skype message from her, which sent me overjoyed as soon as I saw it over lunch , only to be dampened by the fact it was just to ask me to buy certain baby products

How exciting a new life is about to come out of a mothers womb... How miraculous, how beautiful... A new life about to beginthe circle of life about to start all over again.

I don't know how she will be, ecdpt that she's a she...
I do wish her much beauty, joy and peace and wish her all the love and warmth for all her time on this world 

Changes

How do people change so much?
From friends to lovers? From lovers to heartbreakers? From two people trying to mend broken dreams to two people who seem to be irritated at the other person for whatever reason?

How do we change so quickly? What happened to that love, that fondness, that intimacy and the smiles we used to have whenever we would see each other?

It is so sad when a love affair dies, when two people who were once best friends and inseparable seem unable to stand one another. It is so sad, really breaks my heart, to be spoken to and treated like everything I say can be dismissed as nonsense and fantasy, or worse words of someone who has emotional or mental problems.

But there comes a point, a point when enough is enough, when all the signs and friends around you suggest that a relationship with another person is no longer worth it and that life is much lighter, much less treading on eggshells or choosing your words very carefully and more about protecting your own dignity and sanity.

After five days in Australia

Australia, over the past five days or so, has been great. The people are super nice, approachable, welcoming (and Aussie boys are so hot...!), and the general atmosphere is just very pleasant. I'm so fortunate to have been asked to come here, and glad, despite the initial fear and reluctance at speaking in public, it has been such a plesant experience. The teachers came up to me today, and told me what a superb teacher I am, honestly. Lack of confidence? Nonesense! They seemed to love my lectures and found them engaging and stimulating , and said that (somehow) there is a lot of thought and structure put into it. What a boost of confidence that made me blush...

Right now, in a two storey building from the 1970s or so, in the middle of really nowhere, in a town called Woomera- the Roswell of Australia. because of this course I was invited to take part in, I have the unique opportunity to take part in a tour to the prohibited zone where weapons and secret technologies are being tested. In the earlier years, 1950-80s, this was the site of ultra secretive installations for space monitoring and satellite control, a collaborative effort between western countries.

The landscape is just barren, the outback, the bush, that expands for as far as the eye can see... Scorched , parched red earth that is so hostile to life and that holds only low bushes and shrubs. A territory that stretches larger than much of continental Europe...

This is barren earth, this is undiscovered country that is untamed and wild, and presents opportunities abound for a new future...

Would I want to move here? Start a new life here?

Quandong

Mango chutney

Chilly sauce

Leaving taiwan

On the plane now, slowly taxiing toward the runway. Sitting in the exit row window seat that I had to fight for (#sqsucks), had to depart 4hrs earlier than I planned because the airline said there's a risk of me missing my connection if I had only an hour. Very upsetting and a waste of my time, and the airline finally relented after ten email exchanges.

Sunny, beautiful day. Leaving Taiwan... What a speedy trip, five nights and six days. So many people I have seen, so many places I have been. Most important of all, I went to see mum and offered prayers and food to her as promised. I was extremely touched that people took the time on a Saturday to join me in remembering mum, and many brought food and offerings to make the ceremony more festive.

There were moments when I teared up, particularly as my aunt, whom I asked to prepare most of the food (...though she didn't do such a great job; most things were bought, which I thought was very cheap for such a special day...), told me about their childhood and growing up. They have a stepmother, who was mean to them and preferred her own children. Mum was always very obedient, whereas my aunt more defiant and would even talk back to the stepmother (thus my step-grandmother , I would guess, though I still treat her with respect and call her grandma...) I heard stories from mum about how they would tiptoe and steal food that the stepmother would give only to her own children... I heard from mum that the stepmother would twist their eye lids (extremely painful!) as punishment, and once told her that women need not study and only need to get married and serve at home. Mum defied her and studied, with the help of her aunt, who put mum through cram school with her own daughter (mum's younger cousin whom mum adored and traveled with many times...) Hence mum is eternally grateful to this aunt of her, and somewhat distant with her stepmother (but still respectful...).

My aunt spoke of how she and mum and another sister of mum's (they were three girls) were so close and do everything together... After mum graduated, she went to work for the government and got her first job at a town created for the civil service. My aunts would visit, my aunt said while we journeyd to Taipei and toward the ceremony on the train, and mum would take them out and treat them to wonderful things...

My aunt said that initially she wasnt into dad all that much, and was more into her first love... But her dad opposed it because it was a sailor who would be away out at sea long periods of time... Mum married dad, I learned before and my aunt said again, because dads writing was so moving and he had such a gift with words he kept on writing and word her that way. They got married , moved to the big city Taipei to work, had my brother , had me, and the rest is history... My aunt said dad was so kind to her, and my aunt stayed with them for some time while she was working in the big city as a department store saleswoman...

I teared up hearing about parts of mum's life in review. "So kind she was, so compassionate..." my aunt said , "and she left so early..." Mum certainly was all those things and more, and she left before her time, before I had a chance to really stand up and succeed. I gave her my time, spent as much time as I could with her. I tell myself, and told her till her dying day, she has no regrets... She's seen the world, enjoy wonderful delights and delightful experiences.

Same city, different times

I walked around the streets of Taipei, the same streets I've frequented for years, the same streets I frequented when my mind was so filled with worry and woe, then later when my heart was heavy with grief and longing after the passing of dad and particularly mum. Now the streets are just streets, and I feel lighter, I feel as if I were just being, just breathing and walking.

No, the longing is still there, the memories at times still fresh and wells me up (tearing) , but less strong, less forceful now. Three years after mum's passing, I am standing, breathing, walking and wandering around the streets of Taipei like a different person now. It was , and it felt like, such a dream!

How this city has grown and matured with the years, how I have grown and moved forward throughout the years. The streets seem paved with memory... The restaurant next to the 228 Park where mum would take me after a long day at work (at the time in Shindian) and when it see me pointless to go home when dad wasn't even coming home (she had vouchers and could get the special meals, often fresh streamed fish or some other kind of home cooking... The plum tea shop at the corner of the street where she would always stop at on a hot day... The coffee shops where she and her cousin and good friend would sit and talk about their trips overseas... The camera shop where she would take me to to bargain and buy a camera (the last of which I lost on the plane a month or so after she bought me my last one back in 2010...)... The stores we frequented together, the places we walked side by side together. Dear mum, how I miss her still, and will continue to miss her for the rest of my life.

I walked around the park and a thought came to my head... I had this image of walking with my child, and having to stop for a moment to collect myself while I teared up telling my child how his/her grandma used to take me there as a child...

A long day that started at 530, and involved a trip from all the way down south to Taipei to meet up with relatives before heading to the mountains. The ceremony went smoothly, though not exactly as I expected. I had no where I could cook and make my special dishes for mum, so I had to make do and ask my aunt (her youngest sister) to step in and prepare the meals...

Spiritual guidance

"Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace.
I dream at night, I can only see your face.
I look around but it's you I can't replace.
...

Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I'll be watching you.

Every move you make
Every step you take
I'll be watching you..."

Doubts , such doubts I had, doubts like grey and heavy clouds lingering over an otherwise tranquil and seemingly perfect scenery. And now the clouds  have cleared.

I met up with the Taoist master , mum's trusted guide who can communicate with the deceased, and so many questions were answered. The decisions I've had to make, mainly alone, over the past few weeks (particularly buying a house) and the doubts I had regarding my work and future career...

Mum still cares deeply, and is concerned about me. The love and concern of a mother transcends dimensions and realms of existence. She was there, the master said, when I went to see the house that second time. She was there. She was there as I was inspecting the walls, the windows, the the finishing... She was there when I wandered the condo and imagined my new life there in a place I can call my own. He said he recognised it immediately from the picture (even before I showed him the pics, he saw the triangular shape of my corner unit).

Love beyond this world

In the movie Interstellar, a father trapped in another dimension, another realm of existence, frantically tries to get the message across the universe to his dear, beloved daughter that he is still around, still living her, still caring and thinking about her from afar. For the longest time, she faced his departure when she was still so young with anger, disbelief and resentment.

Why did the dearest person in a child's life have to go...? Why did a child's hero, guardian angel and confidante have to be so cruelly plucked away...? As she grew older, slowly she began to see there is a reason for everything. Every word, every sign, every encounter and thought, every intuition and fear has a meaning.  Slowly the pieces and bits of life come together and begin to somehow make sense. Slowly, somehow the memories of days passed, the premonitions of the future to come, and the present here and now all merge like streams flowing into the boundless ocean of existence.

The father's been gone a long, long time, and for most he might as well be dead. But love does not die, does it? A long, long time is nothing to love. Love knows no time, no space, no boundaries. It is so powerful its strength cannot be measured, quantified or captured by years, equations or words. Love transcends and pervades all that we can ever know, and much, much more, in the universe. Love is when you catch yourself so tenderly clutching onto a cup the long lost loved one once drank out of. Love is in that smile when you retrace the footsteps left behind in a familiar place at a different time. Love is in the smell of items of clothing long not worn, in that warm thought triggered by the sight of a momento, in the yellowing pages of a photo album which are now stored awei in boxes and in the depths of your memory. Love is expressed in those tears that well up when close your eyes and feel this aching longing flood and choke your insides...

Sometimes, I imagine mum (and dad) have gone on a journey. I said goodbye to mum three years to the day now. I left her a little note telling her to be well and to journey forth steadily. I promised her I would live well and make her and dad proud...

Though gone a long , long time, they are still around, thinking of me, just as I think of them, loving and caring about me, just as I love and care about them from a realm I cannot fathom, cannot see. It seems so much easier to think this wei, easier because how else can you escape that deep, deep void, which, like a black hole sucks seems to  consume everything, even time and space and the light of youth and life?

Mum's not really gone but have just left this world, one that in my mind is infinitely better. She graduated, left this state of being, this life of suffering, greed and delusion, and is now in a better place free from pain, free from anguish and sorrow and the afflictions of being human.

How do I know if she is alright...? How do I find her again...?

She lives in me, through me, and for as long as I live, her existence and memoriesand memories of her, may fade with time but will never cease.

The last time I gazed at the sea was a week or so earlier, the tranquil Pacific which is now the backyard of my parents' final resting place. How pensive, saddened by the memories of anniversary  I was that day, and how calm inside I was today. The ferocious sea below contrasted greatly with that strange calm and rare glimpse of contentment I felt inside. The world, finally, felt at ease, at peace, after seemingly countless years filled with upheaval, uncertainty and losses. For once, again in that rare moment when things just felt alright, I realised the meaning of how the world is only so much, nothing less, nothing more. Sorrow is only so much, joy is only so much. Life is only so much, and death, death at the end of the day, and with the passage of time, is really only so much. 

Train southbound

I look out the window and watch another town, another city flashes by in streams of light. With no particular object in gaze, my mind drifts and wanders... And I suddenly see my own reflection in the window. Is that me? Is that me now? Have I aged and mellowed with the years? How long has it been...?

On the high speed train southbound, an or so an hour or so after arrival. Tired, but not overly so, at least not yet. For the first time ever, I'm heading to the monastery in the mountains as the first thing I'm doing after arriving here. Where else would I go? A hotel? A friend's or relative's place? It feels strange, it does, but how fortunate I am to be welcomed somewhere, where they are expecting me with open arms.

Start of a quick four day trip, leaving Sunday bound for Australia. Before that, I still have three lectures to prepare for, and a ceremony that I still need to plan and coordinate.

Everything seems to be happening so fast I can hardly make sense of it all.

Brief stop in the UK

Just finished with a whirlwind visit to my friend's parents. At first I thought it would be awakes, but turned out to be quite lovely. Nice conversation over a traditional English roast dinner (Yorkshire pudding, peas, gravy and all!), and we continued after dinner into the night, till after 11 before hitting the sack.

Conversation centred around travels, wonderful  experiences and grievances overseas, and of course landed on dealing with illness and loss. Those years with mum really taught me a lot, things that cannot be learned in books but life experiences have added such depth and understanding of how to cope and react in times of distress and helplessness. It is a gift, in a way, one learned through tears and much pain at times, but a gift of experience that I am so happy to pass on to those who are going through the toils treatment.

There were moments I observed her silently. Behind the natural wrinkles and spots of old age was a human being trying to deal with a harsh reality, one that till just a few months ago was unthinkable. "Why me?" She said, as would many cancer patients having to deal with the emotional toll that more often is weightier than the physical. "Ive always been so well, never sick..." Yet our bodies, our fates, our lives are always changing and never predictable. What if it were me? How would I cope with it? Would I be so calm and collected as I am facing the illness of people who have succumbed to cancer around me? The dad admitted to me as he took me to the airport station later that it has been hard dealing with the emotional reality.

I brought liquid propolis spray , thinking that perhaps my friend's mum would be getting sores on the insides of her cheeks after treatment. Sure enough, she said she started feeling some aches in the middle of the night, and the spray seems to help immensely.

In the morning, I saw strands of hair in the washroom, and earlier the mother spoke about her fear of losing her hair. I remember it was one of the great fears and sources of distress for mum, and my mind flashed back to memories of me frantically sweeping the floor when she's not watching so she doesn't see she's losing hers (luckily, in a sense, she never lost it all, it only thinned somewhat). Hair is for women, in particular, such a defining characteristic of womanhood.

As I said goodbye, I kissed her on the cheeks and wished her well. I would have wanted to give her a hug, but then would have to overcome that British awkwardness with showing too much emotions.

I wish the words could do more, say more than the mere words of "take good care".

In London

In London

Arrived after a six hour flight on BA. Though the plane was (relatively) new and one of the staff particularly friendly, I was unimpressed. The seats were cramped (granted, I was seated in the very sat row), cabin looked aged and dirty, as were the toilets), and the food was just basic and sad... What a great disappointment for an airline that seems to be so iconic and brand itself as posh and classy.

At least I slept a bit, almost right up to  landing. And in the spare moments I was awake, I wrote the letter I've been intending to write to mum.

An emotional one, for this is am emotional trip, one marking the end of the cycle of three years after passing that is so important for the soul of the departed. I told her about the house I bought not so long ago, news of which very few, and only the trusted few, know. I told her how I've progressed from the rock bottom of grief and mourning to stand up (somewhat) y'all again, three years on, and getting on with work, with teaching and recognised by my colleagues as capable and trustworthy. I hoped that she and dad are proud of me and what I've become...

There were intense moments I was so close to tears. But at the same time, the tiredness and stress about the lectures in the coming week is dampening my moods and making me feel more stressed and frustrated than emotional.

I made a quick transit through central London, took the underground to King's Cross, where I hung around and had lunch before making my way onto the 130pm train bound for Newcastle. Is it bizarre I would be heading to go see the parents of my ex? Three years have passed since my first visit, and who knew I would be visitng under these circumstances. His mum was diagnosed with cancer and recently started treatment. Its only been the first session, and she appears to be alright, but when I heard I had this sudden urge to go see her, and this one and a half day transit time in the UK gave me the opportunity.

Why it is I feel this urge I do not know... Is it because I feel and see these reminders of mum and her whole ordeal going through treatment? Is it because I feel I want to somehow do something, anything, to reassure my friend's mum that it'll be alright? I bought propolis, protein powder, lavender oil, all things I used to bring my mum from afar, and which I know will make facing treatment a little more bearable. It feels like one of those little operations/missions I used to embark on which gave a difficult situation a more "human" and emotional touch. Because, my god, cancer can rob you so much of hope and fill you with such dread and despair...

It might be a little awkward, and I really didn't want to trouble them in any way, but they were so kind and invited me to stay over (making it all the more awkward...).

12 June

You can have all the things you've ever wanted, all that you have strove for and dreamed of... Yet at the end of the day, you feel empty inside. Empty and sad, empty yet the tears flow like there is a boundless source deep down inside...

A little to eight at night, and I was in the metro heading home. I looked around me, and somehow the world felt heavy with emotions (it'd been raining more or less the whole day). It was a busy day, did lots of work, and spent a lot of time on the phone with my agent, with the mortgage broker, with the bank, and with a friend, trying to finalise the last nail that would solidify the  acceptance on the condo I saw and agreed to buy last weekend. A long week of emotions, paperwork, and it came to be. The deed has been done. I also spent some time making arrangements to visit a friend's parents (the mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer, and I waned to visit and give her a boost of support... in a way, like I used to with my own mother).

So in many ways, many emotions and new experiences, new territory this week. And on top of it all, this morning, while scrolling through facebook (I know, bad habit in the morning, but I do it mostly for the news and to know what's been happening since I "signed off" a few hours earlier). And there was that picture. That famous, or infamous, picture. Of me sitting next to mum at the hospice. Me holding her hand, one that had tubes and tape on. Me with a graduation cap, carrying a forced, forced smile. Mum looked tired, thin, and frail... Maybe I should not have taken that picture, she didnt look too well. But the nurses were so happy to see me, they seemed to have heard much about me. And I wanted to capture that moment at that moment. A moment of joy for my mother, a moment of pride, and perhaps even relief for my mother. I , the prodigal son, had returned and had finally graduated. 

It was to be my last return to her side. 

She would take her leave around two weeks later.

How it seemed to be all so well timed.

That picture stayed with me most of the day, even though my mind was chatting with my friend's mother and firming plans to visit, even though my mind was calculating interest rates and monthly payments, even though my mind focused on the ITU and regulation of radio frequencies and protecting them from unlawful interference... my mind was etched with that moment three years ago. 

A friend commented "It has already been 3 years? Time has flown". In a way, yes... unbelievable. But in many ways, time has passed by at times, particularly in the first year, particularly at night when (as we say) "the night is deep and people are quiet", when I have to muffle the sounds of my own sobbing so as not to stir the world. Time has indeed flown. But there are grueling, painfully emotionally and longing moments what I wished time would pass even quicker so that I do not have to feel the pain and loss so much more. As my friend's mother said on the phone to me, "You will always feel it, it stays with you". She lost her father suddenly some forty years ago, and it still is difficult. 

I'm not sure how I will get by the next week, or the week after that when I am going to see mum at her final resting place. I have so much to tell her. So much has happened since I saw her last, since we parted three years ago. No longer a fresh graduate, I am a "prof" now... no longer so directionless and lost, I am slowly making my path and found a place where I am somehow feel so comfortable to call "home" (even though I have yet to sleep or live there)... 

How I have grown, have struggled to stand still and stand tall, though at times, like earlier tonight when I got home, when I lay down next to my cats (how blessed I am to have two wonderful cats...) I just curl up in a ball and cry... Just let the tears flow out of me like there is no end to the saltiness and to the tears of pain and longing. 

When I look at the pictures of my mum, I am reminded of how much I miss her, of how kind she was, of how caring she was as a mother, as my rock, my support and my guide in life. She is in a better place now, I know that. Anywhere is better than those last few months in the hospital, those bouts of vomiting and sickness, those treatments and sessions and appointments... Anywhere is better than then, than those dark, heavy and uncertain days. I know so. I know for sure. 

What has happened in the past year? What have I done? I ask myself that, and I struggle to find an answer in the same way I have been struggling to find joy, find meaning and a reason to really smile.

People have questioned why I still am "this way", why I withdraw, why I still cry. I have even been questioned on why I am making a big deal out of the one year anniversary and even the purpose of flying home to commemorate my late mum. I have no real answers, and perhaps there are no answers for loss and grief are such personal experiences. Experience loss, real loss, and one may come close to knowing really why. Experience loss, and maybe one will come close to feeling a void as vast, endless and empty as the world looks like from a jetliner at 35,000 feet.
12 June 2013.

 

 But there are moments.

There just are moments I feel so weak, so prone to tears. There are moments when I just break down all over again. 

But I know I will stand up again. And again.

 

Waiver

Today is the date I waive a so-called financing condition, basically guaranteeing I have the fnances and will commit to buying. If I back out now , I lose the deposit.

But there's no backing out now. I've found a yoga studio new my new pad, I've gone in google maps and mapped the way to get to the showrooms for my new kitchen countertop, and even mapped the way to get to the airport. There's no backing out now, because I'm excited and committed. Somehow this place feels good, just right.

Is it any wonder why the building is on (and actually named after) Adelaide, the city I'll be going to in two weeks? Is it a pure coincidence that I should get a CD of the music Alegria when I went to see the building for the second time?

I wrote to my brother, despite the initial negative response from him, and his second email was much more supportive and understanding. The economics, of having to pay a lot of rent and using the same money would cover fees and mortgage, just makes sense. Even if I don't live there, I can rent the place out, and get some additional income from the property. This is what my parents instilled in me: real estate, immobiles , are the most stable form of assets. Buy, buy, buy, mum told me

(Facebook today, incidentally, showed me a pic of me three years ago with mum... Sitting by her side, minutes after I rushed home after the graduation I never wanted to have, wearing a grad cap and a forced smile...).

Coincidences and signs

Two weeks or so ago, I was called into a bank I don't really deal with much. The representative told me because of my "loyal" custom, they decided to offer me a line of credit. I was hesitant at first... but after being told I don't lose anything, and have only to gain (and seeing pictures of two young boys who belong to this bank employee), I gave in. I was given the line of credit, to use (or not) as I wish, against a very low interest rate.

I never thought of ever using this. Ever.

Fast forward two weeks or so, and tomorrow, the deposit for the house I made an offer on (one that was accepted) is due by close of business day. How much? Exactly the same amount as the line of credit I was offered.

Coincidence, or just random facts? I will not really know... maybe I will look back and reflect how foolish I am to be looking for signs and connecting dots where there are none. Maybe, just maybe, my Piscean/Rat senses are just intuitively strong and see the signs that others do not see.

This week, end of the week, it is make or break on whether I get the financing sorted for the house I would like to have. I can afford it, comfortably with a mortgage, and I can make payments for the mortgage for at the very least a year and a half. But I just hesitate to part with a great deal of all that my parents have left me. Am I being too rash? Being too careless? I am afraid, particularly of making a wrong move, of diving head in only to find myself stuck and feeling oppressed with mortgage payments and debts I cannot pay.

In times of uncertainty when you are seeking guidance and signs, the foolish (or perhaps the very wise) seek the counsel of tradition and the unseen. So I called up my mum's spiritual adviser, and asked his opinion. I had not spoken to him for some time, and when he answered the phone, he asked about my work and immediately about whether I had bought a place.

"Your mum wants to know if you bought a place! How you done it?
 It was as if I heard her voice, through the voice of another, and I was moved immediately to tearing.
Mum's care and concerns still linger three years since she left this world, left me.

I remember her telling me days before her departure, I should buy something quick, I should settle down. "Money melts", as she and dad used to say so often. It goes away and loses value, and the surest way to keep value is to "invest" in property. Nothing is more certain and valuable, they told me. It is a time-tested wisedom.

And yet, I am so afraid. I wish I could again seek the counsel of my parents, hear from their voices the voice of approval and advice on what to look out for and what to look for. But I cannot.

And so I told the spiritual guide and sought his advice. "What do you feel? What is your first intuition?" Follow that, he said. Just go with what you feel, especially after weighing the options, weighing your finances and the location. "You know your mum would want you to settle down."
Again, I was so moved. My intuition seems right, but I am still anxious, still unsure and wondering...

Am I foolish to look for signs where there are none?

Just as I left the apartment building Of the condo I really liked, at the door was a stack of CDs to take (freebies). The first one was Alegria, one of my all time favourite pieces of music (and performances).



"Alegria
As the light of life
Algeria
As a clown who cries
Algeria
The great cry
Of crazy sorrow
Serena
As the rage of love
Alegria
As an assault of happiness"


It was the same show I watched with mum days before she left this world. 

dream : missing flights

I was packing bags in  such a hurry and ready to leave home. In this world, mum and dad were there, so was brother, and somehow I had had enough and was desperate to leave. Why, I don't know... I think they were both ill in this world, but still, that didn't seem to faze me or deter me, I just felt like it would be such a relief to get on those flights and fly away (back to Europe, in this world).

I rushed around packing bags, grabbing whatever I could. The flight was scheduled at 1249pm, flying through Singapore, then with the latest new planes, in Business class, to Zurich then to Frankfurt then to Amsterdam. I remember telling dad this itinerary would take me to all these cities where we had made beautiful memories together...


Mum was sad that I Was leaving, for it was days before another visit to the hospital. But I Did not feel any remorse whatsoever. Nothing seemed to bother me... all my thoughts were about getting on those flights I had meticilously planned and booked, and what was going on at home did not figure much in my mind... Brother was evidently upset, angry that I was leaving so quickly and leaving our parents behind...

I was packing things, and under the cupboards found my suitcases. I also found bags of moments, toy cars of mine... I remembered distinctly I felt like I needed to take some toy cars with me, just for keepsake... but then I put then away and told myself I'd be back home soon and that here was no point. I just wanted to get away, had no time for sentiments .

Then, I checked my flight schedule... the flight was at 1. And it was already 1230. I swore and cursed. I was so upset my plans were frustrated. Mum came to calm me down as I frantically tried to call the airline and to change my flights to the next day, but there were no flights, at least nothing like the perfect itinerary I had planned. I was rude to her, didn't care about her feelings, and she became visibly sad and hurt that I was in such a hurry to leave...I was so selfish, so spoiled, so angry in this universe, this reality...

I woke up and hid myself under the blanket.

Thank goodness it was all a dream...but my mum and dad were there... why didn't I treasure our moments together? Why not?... why not?

Dream: mum dying again

I woke up whimpering and almost in ye
tears. The images were so real...

Me following online zokmthing my brother posted about the signs before someone passes and how long someone has.
The latest update was a few days.

I was away from them, but I broke down seeing the post and knew I needed to face the facts. But it was unbearable... It was so painful and so difficult to realise it is happening again....

The emotions were overwhelming.
I cannot take another day again.

Rejected

http://www.buzzfeed.com/chelseamarshall/concerned-kitten-is-very-concerned?bffb&utm_term=4ldqpgq#4ldqpgq

One day before my second last exam, an exam which I took and  failed a year and and a half ago, I got an email from the university. About my doctorate degree  application status.

Rejected.

I didnt know whether to cry or laugh. In a sense, I am relieved. I have now no excuse to keep on staying where I am and would not feel any more shame to tell my boss I want to leave after some six years of studying and working at the institute. In a way, I am relieved also because my rejection means someone else (perhaps more capable, more deserving...) Is able to take my place.

But still, any rejection, even for something I am not fully sure I am committed to and want, is hard to digest. Am I just not good enough? Am I just not the candidate they want? Why do they not want me given my record of good academic standing and having worked at the same place so many years as researcher and as editor?

It does beg the question of who made such a decision... My bosses, one of whom was my masters level supervisor , wrote my recommendation letters. Even with their endorsement, I cannot get in? And perhaps even more absurd... I am not qualified to study at the doctorate level, yet I am qualified to teach at the same university? How bizzare, how twisted is that?

Someone mentioned perhaps it has something to do with the fact it took me four years to complete my masters degree.  It can't be, could it? In my application I clarified that I had personal circumstances that caused the long delay.

...maybe this is a blessing in disguise. A way of the universe to tell me to look elsewhere, and that academic life is not for me. It does prompt me to really look to look elsewhere and seems to be a sign that I need to move on .

Dream: Leaving home

It was somehow the last night of a trip to Taiwan, and I was packing in my hotel room.
Somehow it just occurred to me out of the blue that I should head home to pay respects to dad, and at least spend the last few hours, as much time as I can, with mum.

I was pressed for time, and the travel home was long, and it was close to eleven at night. But I needed to go, I insisted on going. There were others in the room, like my cousin and two uncles, and they tried to convince me not to go .

But I left anyways and rushed home by taxi. It was to my old home, the one with a rooftop garden...


When I got there, I found the place to be empty, deserted for many years.
Where did everyone go?
Standing in the living room, it was when I somehow only realised then that everyone had gone. Dad, mum... everyone who mattered had died already.

What was I rushing for?
What was I going there for?
Why do I still stress myself over rites and rituals and worry myself silly about the need to spend time with people who have already died?

Sudden flashback

Studying just now, and I had a sudden flashback of a day way back when I was probably around 8 or so... We had just moved to the Netherlands, dad worked at the WTC and commuted daily to work.
One day, mum and I went to look for dad at his office. I was so excited by the large glass building he worked in, so proud of my dad and his own office (even though later I found out he had very little to do and people shunned him, for (office) political reasons...).

That afternoon, they decided to buy a bike, our first bike in the Netherlands, and mum said she would ride it home. I was concerned, as it seemed very far to ride all the way home. At the time we lived in Uithoorn.

Curious, I looked on google maps, and it occurred o me only now that the distance was around 17 km. Doable, according to my standards, especially after so many years of biking, and so many long-distance trips... I looked around the map at the area we used to live in... at the street, Rosmarijn, we used to live on... So many memories of driving down the Amstel (river), of going to a nearby Chinese restaurant called Jade... of driving to local farms and buying dairy products and watching cows being milked... I was young then, so naive and so innocent. Life was beautiful back then. My family was together (though tensions were to build over the years...at least this I got to know with age...)

Looking back, did I ever think I would be more or less alone in the world some twenty years later...?

long lost mother

Underneath all this normalcy,
All the smiles and seemingly hard exterior
Are the memories, longings and deep sense of loss
That still lingers and flows,
That occasionally surfaces through dreams like I just had,
That occasionally rears through images of sobbing, of a boy lying in bed and reaching out his hands to touch the imaginary face of his long lost mother.

commemoration

Easter Sunday... This year it happend to fall on Tomb Sweeping Day (ching ming, 清明節), the day we traditionally remember the deceased and our loved ones.

I woke up and went downtown to have a quick lunch with friends and then went shopping for groceries... Chicken is a must, and I saw the squid my dad loved so much, and the barbeque pork (char sau) was enticing too... Together with some veggies, shrimp and eggs, I fixed up a feast.

This lunar New year I didn't really prepare much for them as I was on the plane (fortunately my brother's in-law family helped cook a lot of food...) So this meal is important, as a kind of "make up" meal...

I hope mum and dad like it... Their favourite cups are there. Together with some drinks (Perrier, mum's favourite...) And alcohol.

I hope they will like it, and 'visit", and answer my prayers to watch over our family, my nephew and the little niece to come...

It was so real....

I saw mum, she was so alive....

We were chatting and reminiscing our trip to the Canadian Rockies. How beautiful it was, how sublime, how grand the tours and stays at such lovely hotels!

She told me about her latest diagnosis, it isn't good. She probably needs to do treatment again...

"Lets go travel again, mum! Let's go!" I was hurting and breaking down inside, but I felt I needed to be strong again, for her sake.

She smiled at me...

I woke up  crying...

How I miss her so much.
How I miss my late parents so much still.