100 days have passed

It's been a while. It's been 2 years actually. When they quitted their tough jobs right after the news is broke to them. A good decision indeed. At least they finally found the time to just rest a while at home, enjoying their golden years. I see this coming since a young age. I know one day they will get too old even before we had fully spread our wings. I should have been more prepared. But there seems to be a large opaque screen that kept me from showing real concern about this situation, real concern about anything at all. Do I have a brain malfunction somewhere? Is this really normal? that I can't really express the hurt I had? is it normal? I used to think 'that's me'. now I think ' that's me, is it normal'? Is this abnormality good? Am I bore this way for a purpose? Those overseas trips that I still continued to go, those outings that I still go, those good things in life that I still enjoyed, with all these happening for the past 2 years. Is this normal? I felt that I have lost all things in life. I felt that it's the most confusing period my life. I felt that I have accentuated all the negative things, that there is this translucent screen that filters away all good things away. That filters away all positive thinkings away. I started this company somewhere before the time when she had difficulty walking. I really cannot feel how she felt. I really tried to put myself in her shoes. I should already been dead then, if I tried hard enough to do that. When I see how her legs shook in pain because of the tumour that is eating up her thigh bone. It must have hurt like crazy. It must have really hurt like crazy. How could she have managed to endure all these? How could she have endured all these without shedding a tear? What is it in her mind that keeps her going? I still remembers the time when I was away and she had completed 10 sessions of radiotherapy and 1 session of gamma knife. It was a week after all those I guess. I still remembered when I called her from overseas. She told me her hair had falled. She told me she is wearing a wig now. That was the only time I felt her slight lowness. That was the only time she told me something about her illness. That was the only time I could sense my mum had changed because of the illness. That was the time when I dont know how to reply. I don't know what should I reply. I know she is strong. But I dont' know if she is really that strong. I was really helpless. I don't know how much emotional needs to give. Seeing my mum in her wig, it is a different feeling. She felt different too. She is a private person. She doesn't like attention. She had done a very good job raising up her 3 children. very very good job. She had been through her ups and downs. She had been a diligent employee, a tireless housewife, and simply showing her care and concern in the most fundamental ways. We children, at least me, will not appreciate how much she had gave us. I still remember the day when I know about the news. I hurried to the medical hall and bought few boxes of chinese medicine. I know I cannot provide for her soft needs. But I tried to provide for her hard needs. I don't know how others can cope with such illness. It slowly eats you away. It eats others away. You start to feel that telepathy may work. You start to feel that you can think a problem away. You start to feel that one day she will stand up and say 'I need to get this done'. And all these don't happen. Somehow it does not work this way. I don't know. Some people think that why worry so much when the inevitable is going to happen. But you can't stop thinking. People don't think the same. Not even in the family. It was the day before half marathon and she has one of her first few heavy breathing symptoms. We couldn't figure out what caused it. It's frustration to have no clue. I ran the half marathon then. I couldn't perform such type of breathing. It is so crazy to be breathing so hard so fast. It feels like choking. Imagine feeling choking. Every breath. The whole day. Can you? No one can. She could. It's hard. I tried but it was so hard. I don't pant as hard during a hard race. I don't know how anyone could have sustained it. It was a week before the mid autumn. I came back home from work. She is panting like crazy. I was worried. I ran down to market to buy something that can open up the airway. It doesn't work. It doesn't stick to her cold and moist face. We tried to put medicated oil on her chest. We 'pretend' she feels better. We 'pretend' that she's better. She's not better. We shifted her bed to the aircon. to cool her down. It doesn't work. I don't want to argue with dad. I went to the dining room. Dad called. He called. He called her name. He called her name and I know something happened. I checked. No pulse, no breathing. The bed is inclined. I did CPR on an inclined bed. I try not to feel frustrated. I called sis. I called her to call the ambulance. I needed help. I breath hard into her mouth and there returned this hollow soulless exhale. Soulless exhale. Hollow. The howling from the exhale makes you imagine it's the voice she made. It was not. It is simply a hollow exhale. Alot of phelgm. We could have know this. It's the phelgm. But when will this end? When can she rest? She was resting there right?