Wanderer in the Land of Enchantment

It started the night before. I made a comment contradicting with my companion’s about flea markets in the group chat with our friends.

“So you are correcting me?” my companion said after seeing that message, clearly irritated.

“I’m not correcting you. You know that we feel differently about flea markets.” I responded.

“And of course Carmen responded right away agreeing with you.”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t want to continue with this somewhat touchy topic.

The atmosphere for the remaining of the night was stifling. He didn’t say much even when I tried to make small talk and evaluate the situation. We both went to sleep with the knowledge that something was unresolved. I hate to end a day that way. He kept saying there’s nothing wrong every time I asked. So I withdrew and hoped that all would be back to normal the next morning.

We woke up and went through our morning routine. The air palpably was dense still and we barely talked during the entire breakfast. We were supposed to meet up with a friend for an exhibition at someone’s private house in the early afternoon, which I knew my companion wasn’t interested in going from the get go. 

“I’m texting Victor to tell him we are not going to the show.” I broke the silence.

“Why?” my companion said, surprised.

“I’m not in the mood anymore. And I know you didn’t even want to go anyway.” 

From that point I can’t remember how exactly the conversation got so escalated that I said to him:

“Do you realize that we have no friends? You criticize everybody and you don’t want to do anything with anyone! I know that most of the times the things we do or places we go, you go only because I want to..

Be honest, you don’t like Carmen. You have issues basically with everyone we know.”

“I like Carmen!” he protested.

“No, you don’t! Tell me one good thing you ever said about her. I know she has her flaws but at least she always tries to be a good friend.” 

“You know why we don’t have friends? It’s because we are not on social media!” he said, apparently trying to change subject.

“Really? You really consider people on social media your friends? Do you really think that Aravin is really our friend?” I countered.

“I should erase him and stop communicating with him then?” he paused, and added: “Maybe moving here is a mistake..” 

This seemingly out of topic remark took me by surprise. But I understood where it came from and that upset me even more.

“It was the same when we lived in New York. Who can we really call our friends and still remain in contact?” I could feel all those past unspoken emotions that I’ve bottled up were about to burst. 

“So it’s all because of me then. It’s all my fault..”

Instead of answering him directly, I continued: “We don’t do anything. We don’t go out! I know that most of the time we went out only because I wanted to and you just agreed. You don’t like to do anything. Even when we travel, all we do is eat! Tell me that’s not true!” 

“How nice.. so I should cancel our trips then?” he bickered, looking blankly at the wall.

For people who really know us, our relationship has always been seen as in great harmony, that we are perfect for each other. As a whole, in terms of our personalities and our perspectives towards life, we truly are made for each other. However, his lack of interest in art and any activities does make me wonder sometimes about all the what ifs and what could have beens. 

I assume he knows it, that there were lots of things I would have done, places I would have gone to, if he were different. We are inseparable. From the outside that’s what people see and think. My dependence on him from the day I arrived in New York has rooted deep into our joined lives and it affects every decision I make along the way. All the decisions thus far that I have made, or we have made, have woven our destiny tighter and stronger.

It was probably one of the very few times that we both let our raw emotions show. It’s not fair to say that my companion doesn’t like to do anything specially for during our travels. He does try to be active and go to places where he thinks that might interest me. For a tremendously knowledgeable person like him, I sometimes find it surprising that he doesn’t like to engage in any social activities. When we get together with our friends, with his demeanor, I often afraid he might come across as a Mr. know-it-all. And there were times he made me feel stupid, in most of which occasions he said he didn’t mean to. He knows that my self esteem is fragile. Shouldn’t he try to be more sensitive?

“You’re being too sensitive.” Yes. That’s what he often says, that I’m too sensitive. I admit oftentimes I am being too sensitive. In reverse, I sometimes would remind him, that maybe he should be more sensitive?

There were times I honestly felt that we traveled too much and neglected to spend time with our new friends in this new city we call home. During our travels we often did nothing but enjoy different foods wherever we went. Part of the reason was that physically he is getting weaker, which is understandable and natural considering his age. I thought I was prepared for that. I certainly cannot, and I will never blame him for that. Only in moments like this, I’m reminded of our differences in age.

I walked one and a half miles to witness the Horseshoe Bend by myself. I went up to the top and stood under the Wilson Ache by myself. I hiked and climbed to the Delicate Arch by myself. All by myself.. I wish my companion could be right there next to me and we could experience all these together. I wish he could take in and appreciate the stunning, magical grandeur of all these incredible sights with me in person. 

It was a quite strenuous journey to reach the Delicate Arch. I knew he wouldn’t have been able to make it. He tried to walk with me and had to give up midway. 

“I think that’s it for me. I have to go back. I can’t go any further.” my companion said to me. He was all sweaty and looking exhausted.

“Okay. You’ll wait for me at the parking lot then. Are you sure you don’t mind me continuing?” I said, didn’t want to leave him alone.

“Of course. You go ahead and send me pictures.” he said with a weary smile.

The whole hike up to the destination, I was wondering about where he was and how he was. Each and every step I moved forward, I pondered if it was the right thing to do to leave him behind and continue with this journey alone without him. It was not the first time I left him, with his assurance that he would be okay, and I completed the journey by myself. I try not to imagine how he truly feels about it. No doubt in my mind that if he physically could manage, he certainly would have wanted to be there with me, and for me.

Something hit me and I was overwhelmed when I finally reached the Delicate Arch. The sight was magnificent and I was glad that I made it. But that was not the reason why the tears filled my eyes.

What have I become? Why can’t I accept that this is beyond my control? Just a moment ago I calmly reminded myself that she doesn’t know or understand herself what she is doing. Then the yelling and shouting out of frustration took over. The strange thing was that I was already ashamed the moment I started screaming at my mother. But I couldn’t stop it.. even though another part of me knew that it wouldn’t help with anything. Perhaps in my mind, I thought I could push her, pressure her to her senses. However it was totally pointless. All the effort seemed to be wasted. And I find myself recalling all the money that I have spent on trying to lead her back to a normal life. How shallow am I? Is it about my mother or about myself?

I recorded the paragraph above on the very last night I’d be spending time with my mother. My companion tried to remind me that but I was too destructed and lost in my anger. I remember feeling like crying at that moment but I was so upset that I couldn’t think straight. Flashbacks of her lost, helpless expression on her face have haunted me ever since.

Now I’m back in the Land of Enchantment and rereading that paragraph, every indication seems to confirm that being back to where I was born always reveals the sides of me I yearn to tame. It even paralyzes my speech and my stutter returns. I seem to lose the capability of speaking when I’m alone with her. I’m easily agitated and aggravated. The stillness, the peacefulness that I’ve been trying so hard to acquire vanishes instantly. I’m a different person here where I was born.

In comparison my life is so much easier here and I can concentrate on what’s most important at hand. There’s more room, more time for contemplating. I feel I have better control over my life when I’m here, even with the knowledge that across the Pacific Ocean, the condition of my mother is not improving. Sometimes it feels like what people say about being a grandparent: it’s wonderful spending time with the grandchildren and get to leave when the visit is over. I suspect that this is what my brother thinks about me sometimes. That would explain why he often so easily dismisses my opinion on what should be done regarding our mother.

Every family has its own troubles. I know that. But I still believe that my family troubles could top most of yours.

There were plans for home improvement, which are badly needed now, and there were discussions about getting home care for our mother during the time in Taiwan. Everything is on hold the second I stepped into the plane and flew back to the U.S. My brother insists that our mother’s condition will not qualify for government subsidized long term home care. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea at first as if it would bring shame to the family. Frankly I’m also concerned about his own mental condition. He often expresses that he’s stressed out. One time he even confessed, by leaving a voice message in our family group chat, that without his religion and the medication his psychiatrist prescribed for him, he would have considered killing him self. (I won’t even begin talking about his conservative Christian beliefs..)

But in my opinion it would relieve some of his stress if he would allow others to step in and help. How could he continuously complain about being stressed while denying help from others? He heaps burden on his back of his own volition, and later grumbles the woes and misfortune he has suffered from.

Does my brother worry about becoming our mother when he is old? Is that the reason why he often defends my mother’s behavior as “perfectly normal for her age?”

She caught a cold last week. I was somewhat relieved that it didn’t happen when I was there. I was highly concerned that she would catch something since I took her out and about quite often. Even though we both were wearing masks most of the time, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if she would get Covid because of me.

“It’s just my voice is gone but I’m fine. Don’t worry..” she would say whenever I called her the past few days. Our phone conversation, if you can even call it that, is like a broken record repeating itself over and over.

I used to call my mom every single day. She would question me the next day if I would ever missed calling her once. I can’t recall when it stopped but now she doesn’t even seem to remember anymore when I called last time. It often annoyed me when she asked why I didn’t call. It makes me sad now that she doesn’t.

Already I’m planning in my head what needs to be done next time when I see my mom. Already I expect that I would lose my temper in the process of helping her. There seems to be countless hidden triggers awaiting me, which would break me and bring out the worst of me when I’m around her. I guess we will never understand why our mother is the way she is. And that’s another thing that we might just have to accept.

Even though I knew it wasn’t going to be a leisure vacation, I did not expect that the situation would escalate to the point that I lost my temper, so fast..

It has always been complicated with our mother. The whole family is in a complicated relationship with our mother for as long as I can remember. Talking about mental issues is still a taboo in Taiwan society, even between siblings. There were countless times when I voiced my concerns and observations about our mother and my bother and sisters would either not respond at all, or would simply say, “That’s the way Mom is..” And it was like that for more than one and a half decades. I felt helpless and lonely in this battle of trying to understand our Mom and giving her proper care.

For the past five years or so, they started to have the will, for lack of a better word, to face the reality. I was glad that they finally began to see what I had seen all these years. Or perhaps they were finally at the point they knew that they could no longer avoid these conversations. I believe that they were just in total denial.

Mom’s unexplainable, strange behaviors have made her life much more isolated than it should have been. People assume she is unfriendly and tend to leave her alone. But it’s much more than that. Let me give you a simple example: when going to a public place, let’s say a restaurant, she will pick a corner at the far end and sit on the chair that’s facing the wall. She doesn’t like to look at people or have any kind of eye contact with anyone. If she would sit in a way that still has a view of other patrons, she would feel uneasy and occasionally would accuse that someone was looking at her.

She never has anything to say. She doesn’t even order her own food. At first I thought it was because she needed glasses. But that turn out to be another unexplainable behavior. She refuses to wear her glasses in public. Once she told me that “they make me see too clearly.” So it seems to me that by not wearing her glasses, it defuses everything around her, which makes her feel protected and less vulnerable.

She was taciturn then and now she hardly can express herself. Like any skills, eventually you will lose it if you don’t use it. Often times she has to search for simple words. Two days ago she forgot the words for “credit card,” which she didn’t remember that she hasn’t owned a credit card since more than ten years. Her memory is spotty and would ask about something that happened in the past and confused everyone. Sometimes she would ask the same question over and over and I would say to her: “Mom, you just asked about that half an hour ago!”

For years now I’ve noticed that my mother has no emotions towards anyone or anything. She doesn’t express sadness when seeing a tragedy unfold and doesn’t laugh or even smile at silly shows on TV. By now everyone in our family knows it that although she often holds a book in front of her, she is never really reading. She has been reading the same two, three books since ever. Nobody knows what is on her mind or what exactly she is reading. There’s usually a blank face when she watches TV. And now I also noticed that she often watches cartoons on TV. Still, no laughter or anything.

Originally, soon after I migrated to the Big Apple, we had the idea of having her living with us in the U.S. Unfortunately after a few trials of staying under the same roof for a few months, it ended so badly that we knew it would never work out. Now my mother lives by herself in my apartment in the south of Taiwan. I bought that property after I finished the army duty. My father passed away when I was in the army. With all other siblings leaving our old house, I thought it was a good idea to find a place just big enough for my mother and myself. Later my brother and his wife relocated to an apartment approximately 15 minutes walk away from where our Mom lives.

She used to maintain the house and she continued to do so in the apartment. When I moved to New York to reunite with my companion, everything seemed to work as planned. One day I flew back to Taiwan and took her with me on my return to the U.S. However the idea of inviting her to live with us became a nightmare. On a pretty bad note she returned to Taiwan with my brother’s assistance. (No, she could not and can not travel on her own. She’s afraid of getting lost, even in the city where she lives. She never tried and simply doesn’t know how..) I still faithfully return to my homeland almost every year to visit her. At that time, my relationship with other siblings was barely existing. That’s another story for another time.

There were signs when she was living with us in NY. The shampoo lasted abnormally long time and the soap she used to bathe never seemed to shrink and eventually cracked from drying out. In the morning at precisely 7:30am she got up from her bed. In the afternoon her room door swung open when the clock struck 3:30pm. Her routine was so predictable that you knew what time it was when she switched on TV and when she turned it off.

There were moments of happiness and at times she seemed really enjoying her new life with us in NY. One time we drove our car up north and my Mom saw and touched snow for the first time in her life. When we took her on the ferry crossing the Lake Champlain, the wind was strong but she was so happy and cuddled with my companion. Those were the memories I would prefer to remember. I suppose when the “honeymoon” period ends, the reality cruelly sets in. Totally unprovoked as far as we know, my Mom’s attitude towards to my companion became hostile at the end. She would childishly refuse to stay in the same space with my companion. It wasn’t fair for him to be treated that way when he tried everything he could to keep the peace all the while.

After her final return to Taiwan, I began to notice the same pattern. The dried up soaps in the bathrooms and the everlasting shampoo bottle. One day I accidentally discovered that she’s been hoarding used toothbrushes, plastic cups, instant ramen containers, used filthy shopping bags, onetime-use chopsticks, straws, etc.. For years I had to find them and got rid of them each and every time I came back to Taiwan. Sometimes it felt like a cat catching mouse game.

Several times I would find pills and supplements she ordered by phone or from a nearby pharmacy. Considering her supposed lack of communication skills and interest to talk to strangers, we were often dumbfounded by the fact that she was capable of purchasing these items. They were not cheap and 99% of the time she never used them. They got expired and we had no choice but throwing them away in the trash. That means all the money she spent was all literally for nothing. On top of that, years ago she was persuaded by a family member to use her credit card, which was paid monthly from my bank account, to pay for the purchase of a brand new motorbike. She never asked me first and I had the pleasure of finding out about that only when I received a payment reminder from the credit card company. Our Mom never had any income other than the social security from the government. All the expenses were paid from mine and my companion’s pockets. I was frustrated by her senseless spending and the advantage taken by our own blood. Her inability to manage money created one more headache for me. The result of that was I had to cancel her credit card and took total control of her bank account which I monitor overseas online now.

Evidence showed that she spent less and less time tidying up the apartment. One year when I arrived in my apartment, the toilet in my bathroom was caked in yellow/brown stains and the seat had a thin layer of unidentified filth. I spent hours cleaning it until I felt safe to use. Since then, it had been the first thing I had to do every time I returned from the U.S. That was when she was still capable of doing house chores.

What’s worse is we found out that our Mom doesn’t bathe properly anymore. We’ve suspected it since a few years but it has become clear that for whatever reasons she doesn’t really shower anymore. Or I should say that we don’t know what she does when she goes into the bathroom to shower. There’s absolutely no scent of soap or shower gel on her body. The situation has become really serious as the body odor is now getting unbearable. Bear in mind that it’s considered winter in Taiwan, although the temperature can get as high as 85°F in the south. With her neglecting her hygiene which puzzles everyone, we are breaking our heads trying to find a solution.

I came back home in Taiwan about ten days ago. Thanks to one of my sisters, my bathroom was clean this time and I didn’t have to scrub like a madman. She has been putting a lot more effort to taking care of our Mom and helping to tidy up the apartment for the past two, three years. It’s been a year or two, this sister of ours and my brother have tried to help out more. Since our Mom doesn’t seem to like washing her hair, they now bring her to a hair salon whenever they can.

Her body seemed to weaken drastically over the pandemic. She never caught Covid, but her physical condition has deteriorated significantly when I finally was able to enter Taiwan after the lockdown. There’s no doubt that she can no longer take care of the apartment. She can barely take care of herself.

Three days after my arrival, in the evening when my Mom was supposed to take a shower, I figured she could use the other bathroom which has no tub since she could no longer getting in and out of the bathtub easily without help. There would be no excuse not to shower, right? After I removed all unnecessary items in that bathroom for her to be able to take a shower conveniently, she hesitantly got in there. Waiting 20 feet away in the living room, I could hear approximately five seconds of water spreading. I came fronted her when she was walking out of the bedroom.

“妳有洗嗎？Did you shower this time?” “嗚啦！I did!” “妳哪有洗啊？根本沒香皂的香味！You did? There’s no smell of the soap!” “我有洗啦，你不相信我，我也沒辦法。I did shower. There’s nothing I can do if you don’t believe me.”

I stared at her, feeling my anger rising. I should have controlled myself better than that. But before I could suppress that rage, my right foot kicked the empty water bucket down the hallway. “I’m not coming back here ever again. Are you happy now?” I yelled before I walked into my room and slammed the door in front of her.

I was furious. I just couldn’t understand.. I couldn’t take it anymore..

While I was sitting in my bed trying to digest what has just happened, I could hear her quietly collecting the mess I created from my outburst. Immediately sadness filled my heart..

In a few days it will be her birthday. It’s a substantial milestone and, not to be superstitious, I just want everything to go smoothly. A festive dinner is planned and it will be the first time that the world family will reunite since many years. Our Mom’s condition certainly will be on everybody’s mind. But that’s the one topic we will not touch.

Past experience has taught me that whatever goals I had set for myself for the next 365 days, I never followed them through. It just never worked out for me no matter how determined I seemed to be. I could come up with all sorts of excuses. The most common one must have been: life happens..

It’s true. Life happens. But ultimately it’s still I who convinced myself that it’s too cold to go outside for a run. It’s I who thought that having dessert after dinner once in a while would not have such an impact on my weight although we almost always had something sweet after dinner every single time we ate out. I also often blamed it on our frequent travels for not being able to have a healthy diet and for controlling my weight. Deep down I knew it all was an excuse.

Today is the second day of 2024. Compared with last year today, I actually gained 1.6 lbs. Not bad. But it certainly wasn’t my goal for 2023. Another year has passed and the two dumbbells are still sitting on the floor collecting dust. I’m at the age that the physical condition is only deteriorating if I don’t maintain an active exercise.

Yesterday I finally started watching the online courses of Wim Hof Method, which I have purchased more than a month ago. The breathing exercises today was a bit tough. I couldn’t hold my breath for one minute as instructed. However, I’m confident that it will get better.

I’ve been watching YouTube videos to teach myself yoga since we moved here. My body has become more flexible even though my weight has increased somewhat. (No, my muscles are disappearing. I gained fat, not muscle.) Before the year 2023 ended, I finally, finally finished the book The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. I bought this book soon after we started living in the Land of Enchantment. It’s not a difficult read, but I kept stopping reading it and putting it aside for numerous times. I was not mentally ready for it. Plus certain things were going on as always and reading this book seemed dishonest and disingenuous. Enlightenment was something I brushed off when I was younger. Searching for the meaning of life didn’t guide me to the direction of enlightenment. With the world changing in the direction that I could not comprehend, I suppose I started seeking for a peaceful place for my sanity. I admire people who want to “change the world”. I try not to react or judge. For me all is out of our hands and the noises only pollute our minds even further. I’m learning to accept. Accept that the world is the way it is. Accept that people are the way they are..

Yoga, The Power of Now, and Wim Hof Method. Together they point me to one direction, to one single belief. Funny enough that even the comedy series The Good Place basically reaffirmed my thinking. Nobody knows what happens when we die. Nobody knows if there’s afterlife. Even if reaching enlightenment is a possibility, what exactly is the meaning of it? What is the purpose of us wearing human skin and go through what we have to endure? If the collective energy forms the state of our world, the future for sure seems grim and gloomy.

I never intend to change other people, nor that I could. However, I can and try to change the way I react, how I handle whatever is thrown in my face.

I will continue learning yoga and studying meditation. I will continue with Wim Hof Method and taking cold showers even in winter. It is not a new year resolution. There’s no need to set goals. The only person to disappoint, is myself.

---

Here are a few more things I will try to do better:

• Cook more food at home
• Eat less meat and more vegetables
• Eat less processed food
• Spend less time online
• Talk to people in person (even though it makes me nervous)

“You know I only go there for you.” my companion once said to me one Sunday afternoon when I suggested that we go to the taproom in Lamy.

“I know.. but I thought you like it there too.”

“I don’t like beer. You know that. And there’s no food..”

When we moved here and discovered this taproom in the nearby town Lamy, we frequented it at least twice a month. It was ran by Chili Line Brewery then and there was a food vendor providing sandwiches and snacks. My companion always ordered their ham and cheese sandwich. The atmosphere of a western beer house and the occasional country music performed by Johnny Lloyd and the likes immediately made me fall in love with the place. For me it was nothing less than something came out of an old fashioned western movie and I was mesmerized by the experience. Sometimes we’d see real cowboys walking around wearing leather chaps, their suntanned faces covered with stubble or unkempt facial hair. That’s literally one of my fantasies came to life.

Everything went downhill when the Covid hit. Chili Line Brewery shut down that location eventually and the food vendor was pushed out by Amtrak. Since then Lamy Station was left empty while the train service remained.

You can imagine my excitement when the taproom was opened again although by a different brewery. For me it doesn’t matter what beers we would get. It is being surrounded by local people and being part of the community that really draws me in and matters to me. However my companion is no longer that eager to go there for there’s no more food available other than chips or beef jerkies.

Still, we go there almost every weekend as long as we are not traveling or don’t have other engagements. I do know that my companion goes there simply because he knows that I would want to. I’ve been meaning to tell him why I like going there. Somehow there was never a right time.

In general I’m usually quiet and taciturn. He must have noticed that I’m more talkative when we are at the taproom. I express more freely and discuss with him what’s happening in my family much more openly. Sure the beer helps loosen me up, and I take advantage of that to be very frank and share my thoughts with him. I truly like that.

You’d probably laugh if I would say that having a few drinks in a local bar was my version of the American dream.

Certainly my dream came true the moment I first arrived with my companion at the JFK Airport almost three decades ago. It was the most significant moment of my life and I appreciate and have always been grateful for everything my companion had done to make this possible.

Fresh off the boat, even though being introvert, I did want to see and experience the new world. One day I mentioned to him that I was curious about the bars – gay bars, to be clear – in town, my companion looked surprised.

“Why would you want to go to a bar?”

I looked down and didn’t know how to respond.

“People go there to hook up with others. Usually they only want to have sex. I don’t understand why you would want to go to a bar.” he continued.

“I just thought we could have something to drink there and chat, like what people do in movies..” naively I said.

At that time it was a brand new life and everything was fascinating to me. With the language barrier I depended on him for everything and believed everything he said to me. He didn’t think that bars were for couples. He believed people went to bar with the ultimate goal of going home with a total stranger. I had my doubts about these, but I didn’t have any other sources of information. Therefore this part of my silly American dream was put into the corner. Since then I didn’t dare intend to bring it up again and make him question if I was seeking for something else.

I can truthfully tell you that my companion and I had never been to a bar during the time when we lived in New York.

Fast forward to present day, we are now living in a totally different city. A couple of years ago my companion was enthusiastically looking forward to head to the Lamy taproom every chance he got for the ham and cheese sandwich. Gone was the motivation for him. But by now he must have realized the fond attachment I have for the taproom. He is probably having a hard time trying to figure out why. It probably would be unfathomable for him that it was simply my silly version of the American dream.

Almost a month ago my companion and I went to New Mexico Department of Health official website and made an appointment for the latest updated vaccine for COVID. I found it strange that we had to create an account before we could proceed to make the appointment since we never did before. I figured that they (NMDOH) might have updated their system specially for COVID vaccination, therefore I decided not to let it bother me.

A few days ago we both received text messages and emails reminding us to fill out the health questionnaire required before we could get the vaccine. We did, of course, as we always have. It would save us and them some time at the vaccine site. We were ready and glad that we could soon receive the latest COVID vaccine.

Our appointments were for 11:30 this morning at the Santa Fe Community College. There’s no detailed information for the precise location for our appointments. We drove and arrived there around 11 o’clock. There was no sign or any posters outside on the campus indicating where the vaccine site is. However we did see a clear sign for early voting and the parking lot was quite busy. With no other choices, we parked the car and decided to go in from the Main building entrance. Only after we entered the building, there was a note on a piece of A4 size paper taped on the left side of the door frame saying that the vaccine site is at the Jemez Room. Meanwhile, we also noticed a long line of people, mainly seniors, queuing from the far end ahead of us.

“I hope that’s the line for early voting..” I muttered to my companion.

“We have appointments.” he responded. However I could sense his voice was uncertain.

Well, you probably guessed it now that unfortunately it was the line to receive the vaccine. Thinking we had appointments and we were there early, we walked towards to the door of the Jemez Room. On the left side in front of the door, there’s an unattended table with piles of printed health questionnaires on it. I guess we looked puzzled, a woman told us that we need to fill out the form before entering. Also, she said that it doesn’t matter if we have appointments or not, we have to wait in line.

“But we already filled out the form online.” my companion said to her.

She shrugged and provided no further response.

Confused, we walked back down towards to the end of the line. There were at least a hundred people waiting in line at that time. We asked a few people along the way. Some had appointments and many didn’t.  It didn’t make sense to us and we returned to the Jemez room. Inside the room, I could see there were only two tables for administering vaccines. We approached the table supposedly to be the registration. There was no computer or laptop, a young woman was checking people in manually, by hand.

After she finished assisting the couple in front of her, my companion said to her:

“Excuse us. We have appointments for 11:30. Do we have to wait in line outside?”

She seemed a little embarrassed and said yes. She also told us that they only had Moderna today and you need to be 65 or older to be eligible for flu shots.

“What is the point to have appointments then?” I said, a bit angry.

She said that NMDOH does not share the data with them and the appointments were to give them an idea how many dosages were expected. In the back of my mind, my had to wonder who they were then being there giving out Covid vaccines?

“But there are many people waiting in line that don’t have appointments.” I said to her.

“I know.. but, the NMDOH doesn’t provide any data with us…” she answered, helplessly.

As if defeated, we walked slowly back to the end of the line again. After further consideration, we decided to leave without getting our vaccines.

What is happening? This vaccine appointment was pointless. When making the appointment, my companion specifically selected Pfizer vaccine. Now they didn’t even have it when we were there? The registration was done by hand. The young woman had to check each and everyone’s insurance information without a computer. And filling out the health questionnaire online in advance was just a total waste of time since there’s no computer there to confirm any information.

Is the COVID Pandemic over? How could a government be this disorganized? It is as if COVID is no longer an important issue. The information was incorrect and the appointment system seemed to be broken.

I don’t know about other states, we hardly see New Mexico government encouraging people to get the new round of COVID vaccines which are designed to target the latest omicron subvariant called XBB.1.5. We travel to other states and countries quite often and that’s one reason why we voluntarily sought for and made the appointment to get the latest vaccine. The experience we had today makes me wonder that maybe this COVID pandemic is no longer a threat? Is the COVID pandemic already over?

The moment I clicked “publish”, I immediately questioned myself if that was an appropriate decision. Even though no name was disclosed. There was no image of us accompanying the journal. Yet I was doubting myself. I am not so much as worry about my own privacy.  Certainly I value my privacy online. I think it’s unfair, unreasonable and down right wrong that data brokers can simply collect and sell anyone’s information for their own profit. But, that is not the concern I have over my first entry or the future of these writings. I dreaded my companion’s reaction if he ever stumbled upon this journal.

Perhaps I should make you aware that this journal will be based solely on my perspectives and my interpretations. Memory is a funny thing. We tend to focus on what we choose to remember. Whether it’s done consciously or unconsciously, that doesn’t really matter. What I’m trying to say is that my companion might recall certain events of our lives differently and that this journal describes my version of reality. Who is to say that there’s only one truth? Who is to decide which is most accurate?

He often says that I always make excuses for others, that I give people way too much benefit of the doubt. Yes, more often than not he was right. I was being taken for granted. I was off with my judgement. Even when that happens, I have no regrets. 

So I will not have any regret if or when my companion read these. Life consists of decision making at any given moment. I’m making a decision as I am typing. 

(I realize that my thoughts are all over the place.. Please bear with me.)

I’d assume that you would have a lot of questions as you read. It would be a different story if you know me/us in real life. For the majority of you, I’m quite certain that over time you would be able to connect the dots and draw your own conclusions.

It’s not the concern over my privacy that almost made me delete my first entry. I get this feeling that my companion is still in the process of accepting himself, of accepting being gay. He has come a long way since we started living in the the Land of Enchantment. However, sometimes his reactions towards certain things almost make you wonder if there’s a trace of self-hatred, as if being gay is an inconvenient abnormality. A lot of it might have to do with how he grew up and the environment he was exposed to. I could speculate but wouldn’t want to, nor that I should, speak on his behalf. I could only describe what I’ve observed.

It is probably because of his being the frequent, main protagonist in my journal that would make him uneasy. I suspect that my sharing intimate details of our private life without his advance agreement, for him, would be a betrayal of trust.

In a way I’m not too worried since there’s only a wee bit amount of readership. I’m not “promoting” my journal in any way and I assume the internet is not crawling and indexing the content of my writing. The way I see it, this journal of mine will serve as my private diary, where I record my experiences and emotions. Also a place where I could gather my thoughts, my doubts, and all the encounters in our life. Both present and from the past. Perhaps one day when I re-read my own writings, some things will make more sense and provide clues or evidence for how I got to be where I am. I’m writing this journal for my future self. Often times I needed someone to talk to, somewhere to voice my frustration. I kept them all inside me and are eventually forgotten.. They were tucked away without much thought or analyzing.. Mangled up beyond recognition..

At this point I don’t think too much whether anyone is reading it. I suppose it would be interesting to hear reactions from bystanders.  Meanwhile, we shall remain nameless in order to preserve the fraction of privacy we still have. In other respects I’m sharing with you all of me. I’m giving you unfiltered truth. My truth, nonetheless.

Where should I begin? Usually I’m the quiet one in any social, public situation. I often joke that my companion is the speaker of our house. Which is true to great extent. I have no problem with it and am quite happy to have someone who knows me so well that can speak for me. Well, in most cases anyway.

We are an odd couple however you look at us. We are an interracial couple. Our age difference could easily confuse people about our relationship. Business owners, restaurant staff and the like tend to remember us when we are together. Individually, neither my company nor I would stand out in the crowd. But when we appear side by side in any places, we are instantly recognized. One of the best examples might be how a waiter in a Swiss restaurant in Montreal spotted and came over to greet us when we returned there after nearly four years. Same thing happened at the Saint Sushi on Duluth Ave. No doubt their warm welcome and recognition filled our hearts with joy and contentment. I don't take it for granted. Our appearance in many conservative villages, cities or countries for certain would draw attention. Did I neglect to mention that we are gay? Perhaps now you could sympathize and understand better why we are reluctant to reveal who we are to total strangers from the get-go.

Relocating to the Land of Enchantment marked a new beginning of our joined life. A chapter we could finally start living without hiding and pretense.

It has always been bothering me ever since we moved away from Manhattan and settled on the Hudson Valley. It wasn’t my choice to make, although my companion believes that it was a mutual decision then and the right “move.” There were confusions and lack of two-way communication during that period. I was mentally exhausted, perplexed with the muddy situation I put myself in, and wanted an instant change. Therefore I went along and thought we would start anew with our life. What I didn’t realize was that we had to tell our neighbors or whomever we came across with that we were father and son. Surprisingly it wasn’t as difficult as you might think. I never considered myself ever being in the closet, but at the same time I’ve never revealed my true self voluntarily. My companion, till then, had been living a “straight life” all his life and I understood his worries and concerns. I never pressured him and tried to get him step out of his comfort zone. “It’s nobody else’s business.” he often said. But I think he simply did not feel comfortable letting the world know that he is gay.

Things have improved drastically since we moved here. My companion has become much more open and no longer tell people that I’m his son. Of course there are occasions that we still need to be cautious and remain low key, specially when we are in a place where being gay is considered a sin or even punishable by law.

He retired from his profession more than a decade ago and I basically did the same as well. We’ve been traveling around the world ever since till the pandemic forced the whole world to stop its motion. However it didn’t stop us from traveling amidst the pandemic. Wearing face masks, washing hands, sanitizing surfaces and practicing social distancing.. whatever we had to do to protect ourselves. We resumed traveling soon it’s deemed doable and have been on road trips, flying overseas and domestically. I know our constant traveling has an impact on the relationships with our friends. Sometimes I do wish that we could spend more time together with our friends. For whatever reasons it doesn’t seem to be one of my companion’s top priorities. He’d prefer staying home with me doing nothing than going downtown hanging out with our friends. It’s very sweet of him, you might say. Frankly I wish we could be more sociable.

Undeniably this has a lot to do with his age; I am aware of it. And I’ve been trying to be as understanding as I possibly can. For I love him. I love him so deeply that I doubt anyone could ever imagine or comprehend.

To be continued..