I lost my mother last year, right on the morning of our national Mother’s Day. I was there, in the hospital room with her. All night, but I didn’t get to literally say good bye to her. My children was asleep on the bed across my mother’s. I tried to stay awake, but I couldn’t. Only a few minutes before her soul parted, she wanted to say good bye to me. I suddenly woke up and it was just before 4 a.m. The room was quiet and all I heard was the breathing of the machine, not hers. I was afraid to assume, slowly I went to her bedside, and touched her veins on her neck. I couldn’t feel anything, but not convinced, I felt her wrist. Still no sign. I tried to stay calm, and picked up the phone to call the nurses, then my father. I couldn’t say much except “mom…” He understood and rushed to the hospital.
I’ve been up all night the previous evening, sitting next to my mother’s bed, holding her hand sometimes crying inside. I still regret and wish that I was there on her bedside that night, to feel her, to be there if she were out of her coma. But I never knew. She’s be in partial coma for almost a week and she was a cancer victim for almost 5 years, until then she has finally given up.
The tears and regrets for moving far away from home still remain, after these many months. I should have been stronger, for my children. But when I’m alone, I can’t help it and that emotional feelings I’ve been trying to hide finally won. I feel it’s very difficult in the first few months, because I hardly went to see her. The distance cost not only the money but time in essence of our relationship. My busy schedule, her busy schedule and our time difference were really complicated, and thus, we didn’t get to talk much. Even when the technology is much advanced now than 10 years ago, she wasn’t the type who would have the passion nor interest of learning it, especially after she was diagnosed and undergoing treatment.
One thing, I feel lucky and grateful that we did get to see each other and talked a little before she went into her coma. She was content, I hope, to be able to see her two grandsons, after almost 2 years we could not come home. I was hoping to tell her more stories that I have not had the chance to share all this time, to have the children talk to her more, but she was exhausted and wanted to be alone to rest.
She was a hardworking mom, wanting the best for her children and her grandchildren, making sure we live healthy and happy, and she was always trying to be there to help, financially and emotionally. Even now, I still could hear her worrying about us sometimes, asking me to take care of my health so I can take care of my children. Every time I call home now, I have the feeling that my mom would be the one picking up the phone, like most of the old times as she used to. Looks like I’ll be in this denial stage a little longer.