WAITING TO LET GO
One morning I woke to a text message from Mum telling me that my grandma in Hong Kong has had a stroke and has slipped into a coma. The doctors wouldn't say so but the prognosis wasn't good. The next morning I was on a plane back to Hong Kong -- maybe to say goodbye, maybe to witness a miraculous recovery -- to see a woman who raised me as a small child but with whom I've had almost no contact from my teenage years through to adulthood.
The distance in time and physical space made it less painful, but no less sad. We knew she probably wasn't going to make it but we don't know when. We hoped she might wake so we can say goodbye but we worried whether that would cause her pain. So we waited, waited in oppressive heat with swirling thoughts, waited for good news, or bad, or any news at all.