Pain

I slept the rest of the afternoon after my family and my sister's family went to visit our parents' grave.

It's been 25 days since Mama died, and I still cannot fully grieve. It's like I'm still in shock with what had happened. She was ok a few weeks ago, and then she was gone.

Most of the time I am just sad with a lot of what happened. I am sad on every level, on every aspect of what had happened, my mom's life, our relationship. Not that we had a bitter end, actually, quite the contrary.

One of the things that I feel sad about was the fact that I was not able to give a good fight for her release in the hospital. As a consequence, she was not able to experience being discharged. She was confined for six times this year since her breast cancer metastasized in Feb, and for the first five times she was hospitalized, I was able to get her out. At the end of her life, she was in a hospital bed.

I also feel sad that we were not able to talk anymore about our spirituality. The last time we did was 2010 when I told her that I decided to stop going to my former church and find a new one that will give what I need. I was still hoping that we'll be able to dine, and talk about our differences in a very peaceful way. The only consolation I have was that at least she told me during her last days that she accepted me as the person I became to be, a Catholic, that me and my wife will be able to raise our children spiritually, and that she knows that we are truly Christians.

I feel sad because I have so many plans to help her renovate our house. Now, everything is different. The house is still there, but all the plans died with her. Even if we continue them, it's not the same anymore.

I feel sad because I felt we were robbed by the doctor who is in charge of her drain. That day she got hospitalized, in the morning, she was still ok. But when the doctor flushed her drain, his procedure introduced bacteria in her system and in just a few minutes, she was in extreme pain that she almost died that day. The hospital bill amounted to more than P800k, plus other expenses, and my mom's life - all because of that one mistake her doctor made.

I feel sad because during that last night we talked, I told her that I was going to take a leave the next day to arrange her discharge in the hospital. We were both expecting her exit in the hospital, our conversation was normal, I even argued with her on some tiny things. I wanted it that way. I wanted to be "business as usual". I do not want her to feel that I am afraid of the fact that she can be gone anytime soon. I should've talked to her like it was our last conversation on earth.

I feel sad because I was the one who was able to stay with her in our house the longest. I was the one who really had a good relationship with her since childhood. I was the one who ventured in the business that she was used to - life insurance, the longest (for 1.5 years). I was the one who supported her financially (without her telling me) ever since my father suffered heart attack. We saw each other's bests and worsts in our relationship as mother and son.

Before my wife and I left her the hospital room, she held my hand. Her hand was so warm, I will never forget the warmth. I was lucky I decided to hold on to it a bit longer because it was the only moment that evening when I realized that this could be her last, so I have to hold it a bit longer. Three and a half hours after, she suddenly couldn't breathe and when I came to the hospital, it was over. She was being revived already. Her body, lifeless. The hand that held mine hours ago was limp already and water gathered in her stomach. It was over. I wasn't able to cry that much. I was in big shock.

God! It is so painful. When she was being buried, I couldn't feel any pain, I didn't even cry. Maybe I was still in shock. I thought that maybe I already mourned in advance during the last eleven months that she was in and out of the hospitals. But no, the pain is still here as I am writing this and I guess it will be here to stay.

As I read back to clean up her cellphone, it was like playing with a freshly healed wound waiting to bleed again. I saw the messages received, sent, and pending, the pictures, the videos and the events that were still fresh in our memories.

In this life of ours, some wounds will never heal. I saw it in Mama's life. When Papa died, she was never the same person after that. It is not in our capacity to heal them, we are not God. I refuse to believe that it is a sin to carry on with the pain. It is something personal. Like Jesus, all his earthly life, he carried all the pain and He never guaranteed that He will remove everything from us. He will just make it lighter and give us rest, but it doesn't mean we are guaranteed free from any pain.

Lord, have mercy on her soul.
May she rest in peace,
And may eternal light shine upon her.