This will be another one of those posts that will not say what I want it to say, but I'll write something down anyway, because having something is better than having nothing at all.
In the past 4 days I've made 3 trips to the airport and in all 3 cases I was sending someone off.
First was Serene who ended her exchange here and returned to Singapore on the morning of Boxing Day. I'm not a big fan of goodbyes, mostly because usually I don't appear to be emotional at all when the other person does. Not because I'm totally emotionless about parting with him/her/them, but that's just the way I am (most of the time I don't show my emotions), so sometimes I may appear to be indifferent. Anyway, with Serene that morning, because both of us were extremely tired, and perhaps she's also a little like me, we didn't make much of an emotional scene. We just managed to get yelled at by some security person because we tried to take a picture OUTSIDE the um... whatever area they call it. Where people get their stuff scanned. Maybe it was because I've prepared myself for that day since a month ago, or maybe because I managed to convince myself that nothing would change, it didn't really feel like a goodbye even though a part of me knew that it was one. I know our friendship doesn't end here, but it will be different. Not necessarily worse or anything, just different. This friendship was vital to me through the last few months, and in a way, maybe ironically, by the end of it how it changed me made the friendship a little less important. (If that just sounded bad then you're probably misinterpreting it and you can skip that last bit.)
This parting was one that I know would come on the first day I met her, one that I have anticipated since we have become closer, and one that I have prepared myself for since a month ago. It's something that would have upset me greatly, but by the time it happened I've already accepted it as what it is, and I was already looking towards how the friendship will evolve beyond it.
Yesterday (Tuesday) afternoon I sent my Dad off to Hong Kong. Dad's leaving was, you know, Dad's leaving. I woke up about 20 minutes before he had to go -- I just had enough time to take a shower and make my appearance. I think my parents thought I wasn't going to go to the airport because Dad gave me his goodbye speech when I got to the kitchen. I ended up driving because the roles have changed since I don't even realise when. Our parting was almost like one between two men. Two very close guy friends. He said a couple of things that the worried friend would say, and I stood there and nodded. It was obvious that there was a lot more to what was said, but it was left unsaid. It just floated in the air while we exchanged slightly (just a tiny bit) awkward hugs and I-Love-You's. Take care, see you later. Of course.
Earlier tonight, it was Mom. I thought it was going to be more or less like sending Dad off, except more mother-daughter-y. And it was, until we got to the airport. I got out of the car and grabbed the luggages from the trunk when Mom went to get a cart. We piled the stuff onto the cart, then she walked towards the front seat again to get her carry-on bags. Midway there she hesistated, turned around and hugged me. It took me by surprise because I was expecting her to get her stuff first. She hugged me for a long time. When she let go I could feel the change in the rhythm of her breathing, the way it changes when you start to tear up but try to stop it. She got her bags and put them on the cart. Then she turned to me again and we exchanged another hug. This time I was surprised by the strength of her arms around me. And when she suddenly tightened her grip, my breath was caught between the many questions not asked, countless words unspoken and the tears she shed in silence. "I love you," I said, and in a broken voice she whispered, "love you too." She took her place behind the cart and drove her way into the terminal. She turned around once and waved another goodbye while I sat down in my car and watched her disappear into the lights inside.
On my way home I couldn't stop wondering what was going through her mind. She held on to me as if she didn't want to let go, as if there was something that she wanted to protect me from. Is she worried about me, just like she has been throughout the last 19 years? Is she frustrated because she knows that I am acting strong when I am still hurting, but at the same time afraid to see how much I was hurting if I had shown her? Or is it that she's watching her childen grow, but feel that she hasn't done enough to prepare us for the world that she knows has no mercy? Or could it be that the disaster in Asia reminded her how fragile our lives are and how easy it is to lose ones that we love so she is afraid that she may not see me again? I always assumed that I'll see everyone again, especially my family, because they're supposed to be there all the time, right?
Tonight I couldn't read Mom's mind, and I can't put a finger on what I felt from her. We never had good communication, even though there is much that I'd say to her, and her to me. There would always be times when something obvious should be said, but neither of us would mention it. I don't know what stops us from taking that tiny step, but somehow, there was always that gap waiting to be bridged. I'm hoping that being my mom and everything that she would still understand me, even though she says she doesn't know what goes on in my head. I'm not sure why but my parents and I have never been able to communicate anything too emotional, not directly anyway. Tonight, I wish I had trusted them more and made a better effort at talking to them when I was younger.