Author: YM (M-Y) On September 14, 2011, today is the seventy-first day for my mom in Jiangmen, and also the sixty-fifth day of her treatment. Today, as I work, my mother's instructions keep echoing in my ears. Recalling the time when my mom was sick, she still constantly reminded me to take care of myself. Her unclear voice echoes in my ears while my heart keeps tightening and convulsing. These days, I have been pondering a question: if, I say if, by any chance, what will happen to my family in the future? And will I end up with nothing? Or perhaps I have nothing from the beginning, so how can I lose anything? Today, I read an article that contained the idiom "prolonged prosperity for descendants," which means that family wealth could ruin a young person's heart. Why am I so obsessed with fame and fortune? I realized I seemed to be driven by greed, and the previous me who didn't value fame and fortune has disappeared. Now, I need to face everything anew with an empty cup mentality. Today, I finally realized that all these things don't belong to me. If they are mine, they will eventually come back to me. If not, I will never obtain anything. I understand now, let me retain this love in my heart, this deep love forever.
On the night of September 15, 2011, my mom didn't sleep much, neither did my dad, and I couldn't fall asleep either. I truly hope my parents can have a good night's sleep every day and be full of energy each day. Really, I sincerely hope so.
On September 16, 2011, I woke up at five in the morning. My sleepy eyes were still half-closed, but I had no more drowsiness. My mom had already woken up, and my dad said she hadn't slept again. It started again. My dad complained today about our previous disagreement with his opinion. Watching my dad get angry, I felt really helpless, not knowing what to do to make both sides happy. I really don't know what to do. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I plan to accompany my mom to the hospital because it's been a long time since I've been with her, and a long time since I've held her hand to face difficulties together. I'm worried whether my dad will pick mom up tomorrow afternoon or not. This weekend, my husband isn't coming home, and I don't know how I'll spend these two days. In the evening, I gave my mom a massage and told her not to wake me up at night. She shook her head. I really feel at a loss, and I'm very afraid that I won't be able to endure until my husband comes back. I want my mom to sleep well at home, and I want my dad to have a good rest too. Is there anything wrong with this thought? I just want to see my mom after work. Is this wrong? In these few days, I have this urge to call out 'mom' as soon as I get home. I haven't called her for a long time. But every time I return home, I fail to do so. When did I become so 'shy' that I can't even call my own mom?
September 17, 2011, today is Saturday, but I didn't accompany my mom to the hospital because she said it wasn't necessary before leaving, and she even said goodbye to me. Although it's a little different from my original plan, and I feel like I haven't done enough, I still spent a fulfilling day. In the morning, I took my daughter to the garden for a walk, played with her, and took many photos. In the afternoon, my mom came back from the hospital smiling, which is quite rare. At around six o'clock, one of my university classmates visited me and also came to see my mom. However, before leaving, my mom cried. I hate seeing my mom cry the most. In the evening, we watched TV together, watching Happy Little Pianist. Tonight, I was deeply moved because there was a child learning the piano, eleven years old, whose mother passed away on May 9th this year. He wrote a letter, which the host read aloud. Not a single audience member in the TV program didn't shed tears. As for me, I kept swallowing saliva, tears brimming in my eyes, but I didn't let them fall; they flowed into my heart instead. I was afraid my mom would see my expression, so I immediately stood behind her and massaged her shoulders, listening while massaging, tears continuously flowing into my heart. I realized that despite writing so many diaries, I couldn't match the depth of feeling conveyed in a child's letter. It made me realize that there are many people in the world who have similar or even worse experiences than me. An eleven-year-old child can face adversity with strength, so why can't I? I believe he must have written this letter through tears too. Unexpectedly, I didn't cry when reading it, at least not in front of my mom. I achieved what I said I wouldn't do—cry. I will be strong, and you, mom, should be strong too, alright?
On September 18, 2011, I woke up dizzy in the morning, maybe due to insufficient sleep recently, or possibly because I'm sick. Around nine-thirty in the morning, I fell asleep on the sofa and slept for two hours straight. After waking up, I thought I had already eaten lunch, sleeping soundly. After eating, I went into the room and slept for another two hours. By seven-thirty in the evening, I wanted to sleep again. Today, I lacked the energy to accompany my mom, but I have a notion—I cannot get sick because there are still many things to do, so I must not fall ill under any circumstances. In the evening, I watched TV with my mom for a while, but due to lack of energy, I went to bed early at around nine o'clock. However, the most touching thing today was that my mom returned from the hospital smiling for two consecutive days, which indicates her mood might be pretty good. In the evening, I watched Songs and Smiles, which deeply moved me. There was a choir team, Beijing Life Green Oasis Choir, composed entirely of cancer patients. They fought against their illness and demonstrated their love and optimism for life to people, which touched me profoundly. I wish my mom could be as strong as them. I never expected that cancer patients could be so resilient. I must learn from them and hope my mom can be a strong person too.
On September 19, 2011, during work today, I kept reminiscing about past memories between my mom and me. I remembered the times my mom took me on trips and my promise to take her on trips when I grew up. But due to various reasons, when I finally had the ability to earn money, my mom still paid for the trip out of concern for me. Then, when another opportunity arose, my grandfather passed away, breaking our plans once again. These unfulfilled promises have always weighed heavily on my mind. Every time I think about this, I feel extremely uneasy. Since returning from Foshan, I suggested going on a trip with my mom again, but she firmly refused, citing that she didn't want to disrupt our two-person world. My mom is truly great. The last trip we took together was to Zhangjiajie. Unfortunately, it became the most regrettable trip for me because we had some conflicts along the way. Even so, my mom never blamed me. This left an indelible mark of regret in my heart, which can never be remedied. This has become my greatest regret. Additionally, I remember when I first left home to attend junior high school, riding the bicycle my grandmother gave me. My mom, worried about me, secretly waited outside the school gate and then rode home with me. When I found out, I got furious. Later, I deeply regretted it. Was it because of vanity? Did I feel embarrassed to have such a mom in front of my classmates? Later, I was admitted to a normal school and came to a new city, Jiangmen. Since I was unfamiliar with the surroundings, my mom helped me find the school address, only to be scammed. Eventually, we managed to reach the school. After school started, my mom worried about my adjustment and repeatedly asked my senior students to take good care of me. However, I knew that my mom has always been proud of me because she knows I can endure hardships and it wasn't my first time living in a dormitory. So, I never let my mom worry while I was at school. But unfortunately, during my university years, it was the time when I worried my mom the most. I made a mistake that caused those who cared about me to leave one by one, except for my mom, who insisted on visiting me weekly at school. I remember every time I stepped out of the school gate, seeing my mom anxiously waiting with fruits just like when I was in junior high school. I truly felt I had done something wrong. What I did wrong was that I shouldn't have taken such a distant job. Luckily, I came back and could still spend some time with you. However, I know that my biggest mistake was that since I came back to work, due to my stubbornness, I often quarreled with you and hurt your feelings. I even justified myself. This is my greatest regret. I remember when my mom entered the hospital, she insisted on using the lunch box she used to give me meals when I was in junior high school. I know this was her only hope, and it was our only belief. Therefore, during this period, I absolutely cannot let my mom sleep in the hospital, absolutely not, really not. I also hope that my family and friends who care about me can understand me and my heart. During this time, no matter how hard it gets, I will not give up, really won't give up. Because only then, when I look back later, will I not regret it, not regret it. I sincerely hope you can understand. Thank you, my dear family, thank you for your help. Thank you, my friends, for taking the time to listen to my stories. Thank you. Thank you! Today is the seventy-sixth day my mom is in Jiangmen and the seventieth day of her treatment. I truly hope my mom can recover, really, really.
On September 20, 2011, after work, I heard my grandma and dad talking at home. Dad said the doctor mentioned that mom's limb joints have become more flexible than before, but she still lacks strength. Hearing this, I secretly rejoiced, though I'm not sure why I felt this way. I hope this feeling isn't too bad. Every night passes this way, but every day is filled with flavor, a taste of home. Recently, I've come to understand what the taste of home is—it’s the dinner cooked by dad, seeing family members at home, and the feeling of being with family at night. So, no matter how tough these days are, they will always be flavorful. Today is the seventy-seventh day my mom is in Jiangmen and the seventy-first day of her treatment. I truly hope for improvement and that this taste of home stays in my heart forever, deep within my innermost core, forever. I will cherish this precious flavor because it is what I desire most, yes, what I desire most and cherish most. No matter how it changes, it is my home, happiness, sorrow, even embarrassment—all this will eventually pass. In the future, whatever happens, I will guard this home, this is home, the taste of home. My dearest home.
On September 21, 2011, tonight, my husband and I went shopping for baby items and clothes at the mall. We didn’t forget to select a few pieces for mom as well. Winter is approaching quickly, and the weather has turned cooler in recent days. I particularly worry about mom staying warm, so today I specifically went to the mall to look for suitable items. I saw a long-sleeved sweater, but unfortunately, it was out of size, which made me feel quite disappointed. We didn’t leave home until around eight tonight, and I hurriedly gave mom a massage. Today was a relatively pleasant day overall, and mom's mood was fine too. According to dad, uncle and aunt brought porridge for mom to eat this afternoon. I asked mom what kind of porridge it was, but she couldn't articulate it clearly. Nevertheless, we chatted happily, and I felt quite content today. I hope every day can be as satisfying as this. While working today, I sometimes recalled our happiest days. Now looking back, someone mentioned that there might be issues with the villa we bought, and I’m unsure whether I should believe these superstitious matters. However, the hardest part today was when I recalled mom's excitement when we purchased this house together. Whenever I think about this, I feel deeply saddened. Even if the outcome isn't ideal, we still experienced a period of happiness there. After all, it was once my home, our home, the home I liked the most. Though this house no longer belongs to us, every time I recall it, all these memories bring pain, such deep pain. The former joy and happiness seem to have vanished. I truly hope to reclaim those happy times that once belonged to me, but can I? Can I? Will the taste of home ever be as sweet as before? Will it?
On September 22, 2011, today, my mood wasn't very good. Coming home and seeing the disheveled state of our home, I felt a complex mix of emotions. Tonight, my parents had the most severe argument they've ever had, and even grandma couldn't mediate. Standing aside, we felt utterly helpless. This was the first time I've seen my parents argue and cry, and I cried too, releasing all my emotions. My mood seemed a bit lighter, but regarding this event, I truly feel unable to face all this and its changes. The taste of home, this flavor, truly makes me feel uncomfortable. Why have my parents become like this? Why can't either of them calm down for the other? Why do they impose their emotions on others? This was the most evident vicious cycle. One had an extremely bad temper, the other kept emphasizing certain matters, one loudly cursed, and the other loudly cried. We could only try to persuade them, but no one listened. In the end, one angrily stormed out of the house, the other sobbed loudly, leaving me feeling completely helpless. I then lost my temper with my mom, and I couldn't bear it, so I went into the room and cried, regretting losing my temper with her. I deeply regret it, so sorry, mom. Can you forgive me? Sorry, mom. The taste of home seems to have changed slightly. Today is the seventy-ninth day my mom is in Jiangmen and the seventy-third day of her treatment. I truly hope my mom will get better and that the taste of home will become sweeter. Hope.
On September 25, 2011, in the past few days, due to a low mood, I haven't written a diary for two days. Recently, I've felt completely exhausted, with an indescribable discomfort throughout my body, making it hard to concentrate on tasks. Perhaps my life and work are arranged too tightly, and I can't handle everything, so I've felt fatigued lately, becoming more irritable easily. My mom, daughter, grandma, and husband have all been affected by my emotions, and I'm really sorry. Today, I participated in the Dream Realization Plan. Until today, this matter has come to a successful conclusion. Whether I passed or not doesn't matter; I only care about the completion of the task, representing that I've finished one thing. My mood seems a bit better, and the burden feels a bit lighter. So, my mood is a bit lighter today. In the evening, my mom and I watched TV together. Every night brings moments of happiness, but also moments of sadness. Tonight, mom wanted to sit on the sofa, and I finally understood that the reason we came out to mediate during the argument between dad and mom a few days ago was exactly this. Today, dad finally understood and prepared everything for mom. Mom sat comfortably on the sofa watching TV. My husband and I also came out with the baby to play with mom and dad. I placed the baby on mom's knees, and mom was very happy. I immediately grabbed the camera to capture this unforgettable moment, as well as the moment when I held the baby while reading books. The baby was very serious. Dad and mom smiled happily, which was our happy moment tonight. But then came the sad part. We couldn't figure out mom's thoughts, couldn't understand them, and couldn't meet her needs. Mom cried, and I did something tonight, or maybe something I'll regret in the future: I lost my temper. I know I shouldn't have done that, but I couldn't control my emotions. In the past few days, my self-control has worsened compared to before, and I easily get influenced by negative emotions, leading to losing my composure at certain times and failing to manage my emotions well. I'm really sorry, mom. I regret losing my temper with you tonight. Sorry, mom, can you forgive me? Sorry, mom, the taste of home seems to have changed slightly. Today is the eighty-second day my mom is in Jiangmen and the seventy-sixth day of her treatment. Another night has passed, and another day has gone by, coming swiftly and leaving swiftly, making me realize the preciousness of time. But who can stop time, letting it stay at a certain moment, frozen at a certain point, allowing this moment to become everyone's beautiful memory? Recently, I've started recalling the early days when mom lived in Jiangmen, remembering the times we soaked our feet together. Seeing mom's condition fluctuating between good and bad, I really don't know what to do. Maybe one day, when I recall these memories without feeling distressed, it means I've accepted this matter. Or maybe I won't have the courage to recall them in the future. I wish to forget all the painful things and confrontable situations, never thinking about them again. Or perhaps everyone needs some unforgettable memories to make life perfect. Maybe.