Death took my mother.
It has been 3 weeks since her death, but I still remember that morning vividly. Her last moments. The whole family was there. We told her how much we love her, and that she has nothing to worry about because we would take good care of each other. I held her hands that were deathly cold. And her sad eyes, staring at me. Maybe she wanted to say something, but just can't. She was inhaling sharply, struggling for every breath, the oxygen mask seemed to does little of help. Words just fail me. I just stood there and sobbed. Not long after that she coughed blood, before our very eyes she drew her last breath.The grief that I have been holding on to every day, like an opened floodgate, finally came crashing forward as I broke down, having to accept the fact that my mother was gone for good. It was after some time until there was no tears left, that I was numb, that I felt nothing but a vast emptiness.
A closure that we wish will not end this way, but still a closure nonetheless. At least she doesn't have to suffer anymore. For months I have seen her in agony and pain. Cancer is a cruel disease, and the side effects of the treatment process is crueler no less. I can only watch as it slowly sapped away my mother's strength, until she become so thin and fragile that she was just skin and bones. Soon she became totally bed-ridden. She was lying down all the time, and required me (or my dad) to prop her back up against some pillows so she can sit upright and went through her daily routines (drinking, eating, brushing teeth etc). Her life became confined to a bed and within those 4 walls that given long enough time can be claustrophobic-inducing.
But it doesn't just stop there. To physically ravage is one thing, to cripple the soul is even deadlier. Soon she began to have serious memory lapses, started to speak incoherently, and at times unable to comprehend what we were saying and we have to repeat ourselves again, clearly and loudly. It's like her intelligence was reduced to that of a 1 year old child. At that stage, she was a remnant of the cheerful, talkative mom that we all used to know. Finally, she became too weak to even eat and drink. In her waking hours she would be screaming in pain, her eyes looking into mine, imploring me to make her pain go away. But what I can I do other than just be by her side? I can only clasped her hands gently and told her to be strong. And if the morphine, the most powerful pain-killer available, was strong enough, she would be sleeping. That's all left of her life, sleep or waking up to suffer.
It's the same heart-wrenching routine everyday for me for the past few months. Sometimes I wondered if being stabbed by a knife will hurt less. Even more, I wondered all this while how my mother has the resolve and strength through all this. From the moment she knew that she was diagnosed with cancer, and how treatment means she would have to lose her hair and gradually her beauty, and while hospitalized how she can stand living in the same room, the same bed everyday away from home and the family, and finally the pain and suffering tormenting her that she described as "more painful than giving birth". The willpower to withstand all that. How can she be so strong? How can she be so patient?
Part of me doesn't want to accept death as a finality. Sometimes I foolishly fantasizes that she would at any moment threw the front door wide open and walk right in to surprise us all, she being healthy and well, telling us it was a just a nasty prank. Or the very least, even if she is gone, we get to meet her in our dreams like our usual family outings, us ranting about our lives and she would in turn inform us how she has nicely settled down in the afterworld and how "life" over there was like. Is it peaceful up there? Did she have any friends? Does burning all those effigies really work? Did she receive all those gold ingots that we painstakingly fold from sheets of golden paper? Did she attain enlightenment? Well, one can keep dreaming. I just hope that she has moved on and found peace, she has suffered enough.
Dear Mom,
There are many regrets, but the one that left the most bitter taste is that I did not get to spend more time with you. For the past 5 years I have been away from home. Now that I have finally graduated and is back to spend my time with my family, it seems that I'm too late for you. The brief 2 months that I only get to be with you until your passing never seems to suffice. It sure reminds me of a Chinese proverb that I have learnt:
"树欲静而风不止, 子欲养而亲不在"
meaning the trees try to be still but the wind just won't stop blowing,a son wants to love his parents but they are no longer alive.
We all have suffered much.
Jolin and Jason, the youngest siblings who at their young age should be carefree and happy yet have to deal with mom's death.
My dad, who with my mom should be ideally living a retired life together, taking care of Jason and Jolin while me and Joanne started working.
Joanne and my Ee Ee (aunt). Mom was their confidants and they share many time over the phone talking about many things and every things for hours.
These are just the tip of the iceberg.
At the end of the day, life has to go on.
My father said: "Mother was the greatest person ever, planning everything for the children and family but less for herself."
I couldn't agree more. Mom, you are the embodiment of what a mother's love to her children is. I am lucky to have a mother like you, to know how love feels like. It may be brief, but that is how transient human life is meant to be, like a candle flame, fickle and brief, but brief enough to kindle other candles before its end of time.
Rest in peace, my dearest mother.
