Tag: life

In Mourning

My mother passed away peacefully but unexpectedly on the 8th of April this year. On the 1st of May, we laid her to rest. A more concise version of the following text was read by the celebrant on my behalf.

My mother was a constant nurturing and calming presence in my life. I seldom left our traditional Sunday dinners without a doggy bag of leftovers. Even after I got a good job and my own place, I had to be careful not to mention that I was about to buy something for my unit, as she would spend hours searching for a spare of the item she had stored away years ago just in case someone needed it. When I would ask Mum what she wanted for Christmas or her birthday, she would regularly reply all she wanted was a visit from her boys. If pressed, she would ask for something cheap, practical, and often not really for herself. A notable departure of this was the scarf I bought her during my trip to Cambodia, and I can’t remember her ever wearing it, or even what it looks like. I would have insisted she was cremated with it. My Mother’s passing was a shock that I will not be recovering from any time soon.

My mother is to the left.

There was almost a month’s delay between my mother’s passing and the funeral. Despite a full post-mortem, the most that the coroner’s office could tell us is that they don’t know. When the funeral finally happened, I honestly thought I was over the mourning, and I would be stoic and dry-eyed. This lasted as long as the photo-montage, where I saw the vibrant young woman sitting on a couch with my family’s first-ever cocker spaniel.

Something I learned about losing someone so close to you is that you suddenly feel like you are an unwilling member of the world’s most exclusive secret society. Within that secret society, you also hold a unique position that no one else quite understands. People who I didn’t know about the passing of my mother, and I didn’t feel the need to tell, oddly became viewed as some kind of rival agents whom I became tight-lipped around. Most of the time, I would go about my day as if nothing life-changing had happened, then a self-checkout asks me for a Fly-Bys card, and the next thing I know, I am rushing to get back to my car without crying.

Chaotic Cairo Part II

After Tokyo, Cairo was a shock. No matter how crowded the train, street or shop, there was a certain minimal elegance to the behaviour of the crowd. If someone had to step on your toes, there would at least be an apologetic shrug. In Cairo, it was a much more dog-eat-dog attitude. An Egyptian will think nothing of stopping in the middle of the street to chat to a friend who is already half blocking all the pedestrian traffic. Foot traffic is often already being made harder by street vendors setting out their goods on the ground. A four-lane road will often be reduced to a single lane due to people parking on the road, usually blocking other cars in. Queuing for a toilet or to be served at a corner store, I would have people step right in front of me as if I had suddenly been rendered invisible. I made the mistake of visiting the largest and most famous market in Cairo, Khan el Khalili, and was almost injured numerous times as large motorbikes rode down tiny lanes as fast as possible. After walking around like that for an hour, I never even came close to starting to buy anything, which seemed to be a common theme. Silence is entirely unknown here, with constant car horns, constant yelling, and constant loud music. At some point, I gave up buying goods from corner stores, as the prices for my goods seemed to be twice or three times what they should be.

This is not to say I didn’t have pleasant moments. A perfume seller on the street gave me excellent directions to my hotel when I first landed. A head-scarved lady with startling blue eyes offered me some confectionery while she waited for her friend buying some costume jewellery from a street vendor. A dark-skinned lady told me I “said no beautifully” when I declined her offer of a henna tattoo before continuing on her way.

At least they are not selling sushi, which I did not trust.