Tears

I started to cry in the middle of the night after some misunderstanding with a friend which made me feel terribly guilty and terribly lonely. It was perhaps the second most intense crying session I experienced since I returned. There was just this loneliness, this terrible emptiness inside. I kept seeing images of mum and me holding her hand, seeing her lying at the hospital and being so weak and me sitting at her side trying to comfort her...

And I dreamed... of mum, of me howling in great pain. There was such a missing, such an intense longing for her I could not describe. The morning was again one of those I spent drifting in and out of sleep and consciousness, and after really getting up I felt completely drained and exhausted... The intensity of the dream was numbing, and now I feel like I'm in a daze, like I've been through terrible torture and just feel numb now...

Surreal

Am I alive?
What am I doing here?
Lying here, dreaming, drifting away... Am I really living?

So much has happened, but now it's all quiet, all quiet. And who do I have left in life? Who cares, who is there to hold me when I am weak, comfort me when I am sad?

The teddy bear mum once gave me is right next to me... She told me when she gave me the bear: he will keep up company when I am gone.

Now she is gone. Really gone...

And I cannot keep from crying.
I cannot keep the sadness and pain at bay...

I found crumpled yellow piece of paper in my rucksack as I was riding metro. I opened it, and saw mum's name and signature on it. Her signature was faint, but still recognisable. The paper was the receipt from a bank transaction mum and I made, and it was dated 20 March of this year.

Immediately I remembered... The vomiting, mum's weak demeanour, mum's gradual decline and inability to hold a pen, let alone sign her own name. I remember going to the bank with her that day to take care of some affairs. She wanted to repay a debt owed to my uncle, even though he had told her many times not to worry or think too much. But she was afraid that once she enters TW hospital, which at that time was imminent, she may have no chance to repay her debt... The bank statement was dated just says after we were told the cancer spread and was blocking the intestines, therefore preventing her from eating or drinking. Perhaps she knew she would

Sudden sadness

My colleague mentioned he felt his back aching, and also that he had a sharp pain in his liver.

I heard the word liver. Liver. Liver...
My mind dashed back to the hospital, to the room where mum lay for weeks and weeks. My mind began to conjure images of mum's yellow skin, yellow face, yellow from jaundice. I saw bile juices, I saw tubes, I saw my languishing in pain. I saw the past, the horrible past. I know the past is gone, and I am in the beautiful present, I know. But the past was so traumatic, so painful, so difficult to forget...

I miss mum... I miss her terribly. Terribly...
Sitting here in my office, and I am crying...

A small boy, crying and nobody can see my tears. Nobody can understand or really share my pain...

The river

I come here to find solace... I come here to watch the waves and listen to the laughter of the river.

I come here to reminisce, to dream, to cry...

The river flows and changes from moment to moment, the current rises and falls. It is not afraid of obstacles, it is not afraid of the cold or of the rain or the sun. The river just is, just flows as it is meant to, as it has done for eons.

Beautiful, Quietly flowing and never dull

Something inside so strong

I feel it especially at night when I am alone, when the lust and sexual desires and energies have been released... The emptiness, the terrible terrible emptiness and pain of feelings that is cutting my heart and tearing apart my mind.

The pain and emptiness is especially strong at night when I am alone. I feel so alone, like I am unable to turn to anyone. Nobody can be trusted with my feelings, nobody can be burdened with my dark brooding thoughts...

I just wish I had someone to talk to, someone to lie next to and to hold me and reassure me. I just wish I had a lover who cares for me, who can soothe my pain and wipe away my tears and remind me again and again when the emptiness threatens to return: there is something inside so strong...

So strong, if only I can feel it.

Father and son

Just saw father and son walk out of breakfast restaurant on a Saturday morning. The dad joked and tried to cajole the boy back into the car. They were smiling and laughing. A beautiful scene of the love between a father and son

Put down

I've been wanting to go to the shelter for cats with my flatmate, and today I finally had my chance.

There were so many cats, all so beautiful, elegant and innocent looking. My heart melted and went out to them, and I found myself asking why or how people can leave these beautiful creatures just wandering around the streets.

There was one particular cat, a grey one with a signature tuft of white on her (I checked, it's her...) chest. She was particularly friendly and affectionate.

Later at night I told my friend about her and showed him a picture of her, ad he too fell in love with her. He suggested we adopt her, and talked incidentally about cats getting old and the hard choice we may have to face to put a beloved pet who has been in our lives for so long down when it's ill or too old and suffering...

My heart wrenched when I heard those words. My erratic brain made the connection between a pet being put down and a human being being "put down" at that end stage of life. You don't want to prolong the suffering, you don't want the person to suffer unnecessary pain, and in a way you yourself don't want to have unnecessary pain. He described how it's difficult to see a loved one writhing and suffering pain...

I saw mum lie there in the hospital bed, writhing and struggling and fighting for breath... Oh, god, the tears threatened to erupt again... Mum, how you suffered so and I was unable to help.

And the question came back to haunt me, and made the smile I had earlier quickly vanish. Did I "put my mum down"? Did I kill her by pushing her to enter hospice all that time...? Did I kill her?

Did I kill mum...? Did I by increasing the dosage of her morphine, knowing fully well it might hasten her death...? Was it out of compassion and love and concern of her wellbeing and quality of life, or was it selfish and just not wanting me to suffer any more seeing her suffer and in pain...?

Mum, please you forgive me if I put you down before you were ready...
I held your hand and leaned on you, and I imagined it was what you wanted...

But did I put you down?

Perhaps for as long as I live there will be this guilty conscience I will have to live with...

Lonely heart

At night, when all is quiet, when no one else is around, the loneliness beckons...

And it lures me in, almost swallows me whole and crushes my soul. I never really acknowledged what a "needy" person I am in terms of affection and human contact.

But now I realise, when all is quiet, when I am alone at night, and there is no one I can call up, I feel my lonely heart ache and my eyes threatening to cry again..

At least I had you...

I listened to this song many times over the past few years. It is titled "At least I have you", and it is about a lover who cares and loved another so deeply that the person is willing to give up the whole world for the other .

The song has always been able to move me, and at times move me to tears. I heard the song when mum was struggling in hospital, writhing in agony and pain...
I sang along to the song when mum was recovering from chemo...
The song and lyrics echoed in my ears when I was holding mum's hand and encouraging her time and again to live her life as if every day were the last day...

For so long, I was there, as a son, as a child, hoping and praying by her side and from afar that she would get better, that she would be free from pain and suffering...

I heard this song tonight again.
And tears began to fall...

For those brief periods I was with mum,  despite all that was happening, I told myself: at least I have her in my life.

Now, despite all that has happened, despite having lost her, I tell myself:

at least I had her in my life...




"I am scared there is not enough time,
I want to hold you,
Until I can feel your hairline has the the trace of snow white,
Until [your] vision becomes blurred,
Until [you] cannot breathe,
Let our our body and shadows never part...

It has not been easy,
We have no command over our bodies,
I am afraid time goes by too quickly,
Not enough to watch you in detail,
I am afraid time goes too slow,
Day and night afraid to loose you...
I would rather grow old within a night,
And never part..."

Bank statement

I found crumpled yellow piece of paper in my rucksack as I was riding metro. I opened it, and saw mum's name and signature on it. Her signature was faint, but still recognisable. The paper was the receipt from a bank transaction mum and I made, and it was dated 20 March of this year.

Immediately I remembered... The vomiting, mum's weak demeanour, mum's gradual decline and inability to hold a pen, let alone sign her own name. I remember going to the bank with her that day to take care of some affairs. She wanted to repay a debt owed to my uncle, even though he had told her many times not to worry or think too much. But she was afraid that once she enters TW hospital, which at that time was imminent, she may have no chance to repay her debt... The bank statement was dated just says after we were told the cancer spread and was blocking the intestines, therefore preventing her from eating or drinking. Perhaps she knew she would no longer be here. Perhaps she knew that...

Little get together

Had quiet little get together for lunch today with friends. They were very kind and generous, and constantly told me to eat more, and more specifically eat more meat because I look so much thinner than before. But I resisted, and said I'm going to avoid meat (but despite protests from a true vegetarian, fish is alright...) till the 100th day anniversary of mum's passing, which is in less than a month's time.

There was the usual small talk about how life has been, about work and such, and of course inevitably conversation touched on how I am.

How am I? Despite appearances, despite smiles and my laughter, more emotional and teary than usual. "Sad..." I said, "Just sad..."

Sad... I cannot describe that feeling fully.

Just sad.

Sad...

And would I want to describe that feeling to people? Would they really try to understand or perhaps just say something dismissive like "It'll pass... You'll get over it..."? Sometimes it hurts more when you try to describe how you're feeling, and people just look at you and say things like that. Of course I'll get over it, of course it'll all pass. But at this very moment I'm hurting, I'm in pain, I'm in tears... All one needs sometimes is an acknowledgement of that hurt, that pain and those tears.

Sad... A kind of sadness that is not buoyed by the fact that I know I am so fortunate to have my health, to have all I need in life (and more...), and on top of it all, I have a nice job. And I have great friends who make me feel lucky and supported.

But I am sad because I'm missing that personal warmth and intimacy which I have gotten used to and at times taken for granted... Sad because I am not sure when or whether I will ever find that same level of warmth and intimacy ever again... The sadness is more pronounced at night when I curl up in bed. The sadness is more frightening and painful when I dream and see mum appear before me.

Yes, it'll all pass. Yes, my tears will dry, my smiles and laughters will be more genuine and true... But right now, I am sad. Just so sad.

Sadness

07092012.2234

I just started crying, right there in frOnt of people. Did anyone see my tears? Could anyone feel my sadness or pain? If nobody saw anything, it did not happen, right?

But I saw myself cry, I felt the tears and the deep pain, pain I know will be accentuated at night when I am lying alone in bed and trying to sleep.

I promised mum, I promised myself, I'd be stronger, braver... But I am not. Nobody knows that behind the smiles and my laughter, a  boy is crying and inconsolable.

Guilt

Heartbreak

I must learn to be alone and not to be afraid.

I must be able to hold myself, look at myself, love myself, and not allow the loneliness get the better of me.

The only way I know how is to let the tears fall...

Heartbreak

Calling home

07092012.1454

1.44AM

Suddenly, I just shook awake.

I felt as if there were a strange presence. A feeling I did not have since the days at the hospital when  mum was struggling with her body and life only a few metres away...

It is a terrifying feeling, but I am so tired... Too tired to be afraid, too tired to make sense of it all...

Inner Silence

06092012.1422

Often people have no idea, really no idea what it feels like to lose someone. Not just anyone, but a parent, a loved one you have taken care of for so long.

No idea. And they expect you to function like a 'normal' person, to keep a straight face, to smile and to cover your pain. 

It just makes me wish I could turn away and turn toward the inner silence in the depth of my mind where I can really mourn and really cry and not feel afraid.

Calling home

I woke up a little passed half past seven. I woke up and instinctively grabbed my phone, and perhaps the daze of sleep clouded my judgement. Before I knew it, I was calling home.

The teddy bear next to me seemed to look at me with such a sad, sad face. Mocking me, was he, or was it an expression of sympathy? I hung up.

Nobody picked up...

Dedication

I know tomorrow will be better.

I know, I know that there will be a tomorrow when this sorrow, this pain, this loneliness will have subsided.

Until then, I must be strong, brave and stand on my own.
Cry if I must, grit my teeth if I must, ache if I must.
One day, these dark moments of mourning will turn into a brighter, better tomorrow.

One day, I can wipe away these tears and soothe this pain and feel love and find myself again.

What can I give you?
I continue to ask
I continue to look for it
Can't stop thinking...

Pigeons dedicate themselves to the blue sky.
Star lights dedicate themselves to the long night.
What can I give you, my little child?

Rainy seasons dedicate themselves to the ground.
Days and months dedicate themselves to the seasons.
What can I give you, my mom and dad?

Betrayal

040912.1934

I stood and watched the leaves fall. Early September, and already there are signs of the approaching Autumn, signs of decay and death. It is in this season that I will need to find life after death again. It is in this season that I will need to slowly climb out of the hole I have sunk into after mum left...

Yet, why are there so many moments when I feel such guilt and deep sense of betrayal? Betrayal, not least by other people, but betrayal of me by myself! That is perhaps the most difficult and sordid sense of betrayal there is!

As mum slowly lost her life, I promised myself I would lead a 'good' life. I would prove to mum and prove to life that I can rise and soar from the depths of pain and despair despite of, or because of, all the trials and setbacks I have faced. I promised myself to live an honest life, to do good, to speak softly, to feel kindness toward all, because the life of every one is so precious and so fragile...

And yet, yet I find myself caught in jealousy and frustration, lost myself hurting people in a state of confusion and despair. Have I failed myself? Have I not failed my late mother by being (at times) the petty and confused person who has so much difficulty to let go of things, let go of guilt and let go of the past? I sometimes find myself asking: how much would mum shake her head in disappoint if she knew what I hurt I have caused people?

Perhaps I ask too much of myself, and, as someone once said, I perceive myself to be this wonderful and perfect little angel who does not see any flaws in himself (hence the sense of betrayal feels all the more profound...). Perhaps, as a monk once told me, I should just 'lighten' up, acknowledge that I am only human and make mistakes that once made cannot be undone, no matter how deep the regret or remorse. But really, I sometimes drown in guilt and sorrow knowing some of the words I have uttered or actions I have done have hurt people terribly and ruined the trust and confidence of others.

Breakdown

03092012.2135

As well intentioned as people are,
Sometimes it hurts more to hear "You have so much in your life..." or "The pain will go away..." when all you would like is someone to acknowledge the pain of loss.
Sometimes all you need is to hear "I cannot imagine what you  are feeling right now" instead of all those cliches about losing someone and coping with death.

Sometimes, it is best to just close the door and cry where nobody can hear you, nobody can see  you, nobody can comfort you.

Dream: dying again

I saw mum again. She was a limp mass that was barely alive, limp like a corpse.
I saw my brother carry her in his arms, weeping... Mum was dying again.

Dying, dying, dying in my dream....

But she died already, and will never die again. She died. Died... Died in my arms.

That reality, that reality which is more real than any dream or fantasy or image my mind can conjure, could not stop my tears and sobbing.

Return

"You need cry. You need to let it out..."

A lot of emotions and tears have been pent up inside since mum left. Unconsciously or otherwise, I've not had the time or strength to cry. Yes, crying takes a lot of strength, a lot of courage, and letting down your defenses. Crying, really crying and grieving, requires you to be weak for a few moments so that you can be stronger again...

It's been three days since my return to Canada, since the beginning of my new life after mum passed away. There are so many moments when I am suddenly pushed to the edge of tearing. Kind words of friends, condolences, huge, and reminders of what a kind and warm person mum was. Last night, my neighbour's mum invited me over for dinner. She met mum once, last summer, when mum stayed for a month or so. My friend's mum told me how, even though they had just met, she was so proud of me, and how she was worried about me. Most of all, mum said she was worried about how I'm sometimes too softhearted and tend to let other people take advantage of me. She wanted my mum's friends to check up on me and make sure I'll be alright. Last night, like words and expressions of mum's motherly love coming from beyond the grave...

Riverbank

Sitting on the riverbank, absorbing the sun and the wind. I see mum, see her face, see her smile... I promised her once I would take her here, that I would show her the river and let her listen to the sounds of the rapids. I never managed to find the time. And I never will have the chance now...

Uninhibitedly, I started to cry again. As much as I long for a bit of human companionship right now, it is perhaps best I am alone.

Out here in nature, my tears can shed and within moments be dried by the wind. The splashing of the rapids can drown out my sobs... The river flowing by can soothe my aching heart and make me feel less abandoned and alone. At least for a moment. Nature does not feel burdened by sadness or exhausted by talk of death and illness. Nature does not seem to mind listening to my sorrow.

Dear nature, how i wish the blowing winds, the flowing river can reach inside of me and wash away this unbearable feeling of emptiness...

Fear realised

This is the fear I had...
Coming home to my own life, to my own home, and feeling such terrible hollowness and aching inside.

How can I keep from crying...?

Mum is gone, really really gone...
I cannot just call her up and hear her voice. I cannot just call her up and listen to her describe her day.

I now finally realise why mum's friends, just before I left Taiwan, kept visiting me, calling me and telling me to hang on there, to be strong...

Because the pain of loss is overwhelming. Because the pain of losing the dearest member of your family can leave you unexpectedly crying in the middle of the night...

Who do I have left in my life?

First night home

Finally home now. After a journey that lasted over 24hrs. Though I slept most of the way, I am still exhausted and in a daze. My ex greeted me at the airport, which was a beautiful gesture. I needed someone to welcome me home, to give me a hug after this long and exhausting few months away.

we talked a bit, but not much. How much could you talk about within an hour of two of meeting after not meeting for several weeks? But there was a moment of terrible, terrible sadness, and I found myself tearing as he played some soft romantic songs.

My house is pretty much the same as I left it, my cat is as beautiful and cuddly as ever. One big change is that I have a flatmate now, who's been ever so kind staying over at my place to take fare of my cat. Leaving with someone else will take some get some getting used to.

I'm still in a daze, one exacerbated by my fatigue and general state of sadness. It'll be strange sleeping alone in my own bed again, strange to wake up in the morning and not to call home, not to speak to mum. It was my routine for so many years, but now none of that is necessary anymore.
How I will feel tomorrow morning, the morning after that, and the mornings years after tomorrow, I do not know.


I just hope I can sleep well, and not have such disturbed and terrifying images and intense sadnesses keep me awake at night like so many other nights after mum's passing...

Touch down

30 August 2012, 16.19hrs. Touch down at YYZ.

In a drowsy and dazed state of mind.
A new and emotional beginning begins...

Departure from TPE

30082012.0931

I could not keep from crying. Seeing my brother and his family's plane taxi toward the runway, I felt this strong and sudden aching rise. I watched as their slick 777 gradually made the dash down the runway. I cried more as their plane took off and gradually disappeared into the clouds.

Coincidence made his plane and my plane depart within ten minutes of one another. I watched him take off, and perhaps he sat there in his plane and watched my plane trail right behind his. Two brothers, brought together back in their home country due to the passing of their mother, and now leaving in opposite directions.


I could not help from crying as the plane budged and slowly taxied backwards. The beginning of a journey on my own. Images of mum flashed before my eyes. I felt the loss and pain again. Such terrible loss and pain...

The beginning of a journey on my own. The journey of life...