A friend of mine had just lost his beloved mother from respiratory failure a few days ago. It was sudden. Things happen from his mother laughing and with so much life to a person who lies now inside a wooden box. I went to his mother's wake last night together with some collegueas. He was a dear friend. Someone who helped me while struggling during my early months working. He was always there. He was always, always ready to listen to my childish whims. And it broke my heart to see him suffering just as he is now. It broke my heart to listen to him as he tried to make sense of everything that happened in the last few days. His mother was taken in an instant. "Too young," he said. "There is more years ahead of her... why, why does this happen?" It broke my heart to see myself again through him.
But unlike me who faced the same situation, I can say that he was strong. He may not know it now. Many will encourage him to be strong but they don't know that he's already is. He was the source of strength of his father. He was the one who made decisions since the moment his mother was rushed to the hospital. Its ironic how he remembered not knowing what to do during those critical moments. He was a nurse for almost a decade. He witnessed countless codes and deaths. And yet when his mother was the one lying in that hospital bed, her heart slowly giving up, he remembered not being a nurse at all. He became just as a son. He became like one of all our patients' relatives praying hard that the Almighty may allow them more time. In the face of death, all knowledge and reasons became nothing. And he continued to be strong as he made all the funeral arrangements. He couldn't grieve yet. There is much to do. People are coming. They need someone to see them. They need someone who could tell them what happened. And its not time to compliment him, but I really admired him when he recall to us those final days and hours. He had been so strong during her final moments. He, for all its worth, was able to say goodbye.
I didn't.
I never expected that I will.
I remember myself during my sister's final hours. I was there. But it feels like I wasn't there. I remember wishing I am not there. I believe one will never true pain until one witness a loved one dying right before one's very eyes. There are many pain and agony in this world but nothing will ever compare to losing a beloved from sickness. There is so much hurt in witnessing a body battle against something that's killing it from the inside. I remember as my sister was being brought out from the operating room, lifeless and feels like not my sister at all. I wasn't able to say goodbye. And I will never be able to in this lifetime. I'll never be able to escape from that memory as long as Im alive. Unlike my friend, I had not been strong enough. My mourning continues until now.
"It will get worse," I whispered to him as he ushered us outside. The long days and nights will start after they buried the body and all that's left was an empty side of the bed, unwashed clothes, personal belongings everywhere waiting to be pick up by the one who owns it but the one who do was nowhere. Sleep will be the only thing that will momentarily stop all the pain but you will be afraid of sleeping. It is so painful to because you have to close your eyes. For months to come, the only thing that you will see when you close your eyes and the moment you open them was the sight of your beloved on that hospital bed. Of the days she suffered. Her every face will haunt you. Her voice will echoe in your head. You will always hear her calling your name with so much life. Her voice, which sounds like a sweet laughter from a distance, will keep calling you like an itch in the back. And you will find yourself turning around, expecting to find her there--- sitting on the edge of the bed or standing beside the table like she used to, but she wouldn't. It will be her voice you will treasure most. The sound of laughter, of shouts, of the cries and whispers. You will be afraid of the dark. Not anymore because of the darkness itself but because it brings along severe loneliness. You will be very afraid to be left alone. The void. The emptiness. Its as if you can see it coming for you when you're alone. You will want to go somewhere. Anywhere will be fine as long as there is noise and people. And you will find yourself aching to be heard. You will want someone to talk to. Someone who knows exactly what you're going through. You don't want just someone who will listen but someone who knows what it's like to be on your shoes. Someone who will tell you that you're not okay. That nothing will be okay again. It is so painful. Everything about you from now on will be aching. There will be a time when you will wish in every moment of your waking hours for someone who can take the pain away because you cannot bear it any longer. But you will never find anyone who could. The only one who can was gone. Birthdays and holidays will never be the same again. They will no longer remind you of how fortunate you are to be given another life but of how close you are in seeing her again. You will lose all fear of your own death because you will realize that the other side will not be an abyss like you believe it before. There will be someone waiting for you there. And you will live with that hope. You will cling on to that hope like air you needed to stay alive. And then one day, you will wake up and find yourself on the other side of that pain. You will learn to live with it as I did. It will never go away but you will learn to live with it. Time will heal nothing. The wound is too deep to form a scar but you have no choice, either you live with it or you take your own life. I was given no choice but to live until now. And there will come a time when you will do too. Not for your sake alone but for her as well. You will decide at one point that you have a duty to live your life as fully and as long as possible because it is the last thing you can do to honor the life she lived once. You will realize one day (it will take years and years from now because you will suffer first but you will someday) that your life is actually an extension of hers.
I believe, with everything that I am now and with all that I will ever be, that one day, I'll find my own peace with what happened to my sister. That maybe my broken family will be whole again. That maybe after a long life, we will find each other again in a place free of sickness, injustice and death. And that is what I want him to know. "It will be worse but you will live through it."
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