18 December 2014

My Last Moments with Mama

I never thought I would lose my Mom too soon but death did take her life unexpectedly and I personally was caught unprepared. We were still chatting on Facebook a month before she died. I was even glad because she and Papa just submitted themselves to routine lab exams without me telling them to. However, death is really like a thief in the night and took away my mom's life in a span of one month. 

The moment I knew she was admitted in the hospital, I got scared. I could not keep myself still. I was even more afraid when I learned that she's in a very difficult situation like the hospital scenarios I used to get involved with when patients are battling between life and death. I terribly cried upon seeing her pictures and I could not imagine that her every breath at that time was solely dependent on the breathing machine she was put on. 

I was so lost then. I could not eat well. I lost focus at work. I sometimes break out and cry because I can't help it. I got preoccupied of the many possibilities that might happen -- whether she's going to survive and be saved, or the other way around which happened to be my greatest fear -- my fear of losing her.

The first time I saw her in her most difficult situation, I held back my tears. I didn't want her to see me cry. I talked to her in a soft, yet shaky voice that I've gone home for her. My heart's been crumpled and in pain having to witness the physical changes within her. It was totally different, I should say. The most heartwarming and the most significant part at that moment was when she extended her left arm, attempted to hug me which eventually made me bent down to hug and kiss her, with tears in her eyes. I cried heavily when I was out from her sight. My mom should not have suffered that much. A very good person like my Mom did not deserve to suffer. In the next few hours, the family have decided to let her go. It was actually hard telling her to let go because we won't be seeing her anymore but it was more heartbreaking if she had to continuously hold on. We prayed for one thing at that time -- that she would be as comfortable as possible until she's ready to let go.

I was there with Mama moments before she died. She was more comfortable and relaxed compared to the first two days since I got home. I've seen her deteriorating. I held her hand, rubbed her arm, talked to her -- with tears in my eyes. When the cardiac monitor evidently went to flat line, I kissed her in the forehead, hugged her for the last time, and whispered, "You are finally pain-free, Mama. I will miss you terribly. The Heavens are excited to welcome another good soul such as yours."