24.3.26 - 86 - Fast forward

The look of surprise and possibly sheer horror - felt on my behalf - when I tell people I am coming home to look after Ma. Well, that's not true. What's true is that some people - the rare few - those who are relatives who have helped with my parents, are so happy. 

However, the truth is that I did tell the head of school that there was a good chance this was going to be my last year in the school. I was planning to come home for the holidays and seeing how the folks were and then I would be making sure they were ok. And if they weren't I was going to have to return to Singapore. And that was that. I fully intended to serve out my last two years, but maybe not.

That was how things were, how they stood.

It was what we had to do, sadly.

So then came the last three weeks - three and a half if you count the week we heard about the news that Pa had cancer and not a viral bug. So in just a month my entire life changed. Promised Pa on his deathbed I would look after Ma. And that was that.

We got Ma a snazzy wheelchair - walker yesterday and got her to try it out. There were some tears at first, but all in all it was alright.

The days have a rhythm to them now. We get up. Ma has her two eggs. I open the house. She says her prayers and listens to Mass. I do the blog and drink my coffee. I then go for my run. Today we are going to go to the market. I told Ma that we are going to have to exercise a little everyday. To go places.

Last night Ma was listening to songs which we so unbearably sad. She began with Autumn Leaves by Nat King Cole, Lara's Theme from Dr Zhivago (the first film they saw together), Whitney Houston's And I Will Always Love You, My Heart Will Go On... you get the picture. She eventually listened to Danny Boy about five times in five different renditions, one of which had scenes from Ireland which almost made ME cry, and then I said to her, I think that's enough of listening to these songs. So we wrapped it up with some local TV and then around 9 pm, we both headed to bed. 

It feels like I have also died a bit - my life in Ireland now shut off for the time being... I have too died, a part of me has died - not just the part which Pa carried, but also the part which was in Ireland. My heart will forever be split in two pieces and it has everything to do with the choices I have made. I don't think I thought it out clearly when I went. But that is always going to be the way. It's alright. As long as I'm happy not having everything which I love in the one place - and thankfully that thing which I love is not Singapore, I am going to be alright.

It has been only a week since Pa's body lay here. I cried a little less yesterday, but the tears still come, unexpected, unbidden. A memory. Seeing Ma cry. I try not to think too much of the past, of the great times. These great times should make me happy - not sad, and yet, they do make me so very very sad.

I took loads of pictures of Pa and Ma. I'm so glad that I did. I didn't miss much really. Nothing at all. I know I didn't miss much, certainly not after the boys were born. I made sure I was there for it all.

And that is the thing which brings me the greatest comfort. That even though I don't remember every single thing, I mean how could I? I know that when I was there I wasn't dreaming away, taking the moments for granted. I was awake at every single moment. That totally counts for everything.

I am so so lucky. I was born into a beautiful loving family and I have lived an utterly charmed life. I never compromised who I was. In all, in every which way, I experienced everything.

Yesterday, Ma asked me if she thought Pa would be mad at her for not sending her to the hospital. I said, we had that conversation a million million times, even as those ten days passed. It went like this:

1. Pa hates hospital because he hates being separated from you.

2. The doctors said they could not nothing for him.

3. His body had decided to shut down on this own - in fact this is what it was doing already by the time we brought him in on the 24th. That the doctors couldn't see it is interesting in itself. But sure, he was still strong and conscious. So no one knew.

4. In  the hospital Pa would be alone and he would be so sad. The hospice would be the same. At least here he is surrounded by the people whom he loved. 

5. We check in on him all the time. He gets to see us. Tell us he loves and us and be told that we love him. He had registered him wit hospice care which came too late. We called for the doctor to check up on him.

6. He was in zero pain. No pain whatsoever. Every time we asked him if he was in pain, he would say, no. 

7. I was able to read to him, stay with him. We all walked him over. Ma slept beside him for all the time he was here. We had Yati who guided us.

What are hospitals for? Why do people go to hospitals to die? Hospitals are not for people who are going to die. They are for emergency treatment. Acute care. Yet for some reason, people are dragged to hospitals even when they are terminally ill.

So I said to her, we had that conversation repeatedly and we decided that we would not send him, mostly because he would have hated it. Alone, with strangers, rammed with tubes, possibly. We could not have done what we did without the help of Yati. Yet, we did have Yati's help.

So it all worked out. He had such a peaceful passing. He spent half an hour in labour and then, he was gone. Right after sunrise.

So we are here today.

Well, in an hour's time we are going to be at the market. This is going to be good. Now I'm going for my run. Later in the afternoon I will go for my swim. And then I think I'm going to start to need to start to look after things in general. Step by tiny steps.