How much of me am I willing to reveal? How much do you want me to?

Up to the last minute, you were thinking of us…

I asked for an extension and then all of a sudden, time was up.

It caught me by surprise. I was never prepared. And there couldn’t be any more hurtful than having been aware that I never made full use of what really was an extension given to me only because my mom wanted to live longer for dad and me.

The very memory of seeing my mom, in a coma, dropping her last two tears, would forever be a lingering image in my mind.

Mom was unselfish, beating the last beat of her heart even when she already breathed her last. The last beat of her heart was for dad. Her last breath was for me. I’d like to selfishly claim that the last two drops of her tears were for me and dad. She made it a point that I was not alone with an unfeeling nurse in a cold hospital room. She waited for dad. Then she said goodbye.

God knew how much Dad and I wanted her to live longer. It broke me and still breaks me whenever I recall where could we, especially I, have fallen short. There are so many places where to start. There are so many points where I should be blamed; how I refused to take her to the hospital that weekend just because of my selfish reasons, how I fiddled with the idea that I could always put off until tomorrow the priest that mom was waiting for.

Did mom want to be placed in an ICU? Did she want cremation? Did she want to live longer?

Mom was unselfish. Still thinking of dad and me till the very last minute even as I whispered to her "listening ear on a comatose body" to live because she, herself, wanted to, and not because of dad and me.

Mom was unselfish. Who would realize that she still managed to leave something for me that I could use for law school this June? Perhaps she was well aware but just silent over the thought that I could not save up until my leave of absence expires this November what with the expenses caused by her illness… And yes, she managed to confirm the message by bringing over my law school classmates during her wake… that I should go back because she knew I want it and for that, she, as well, wanted me to…

Mom was unselfish. Gathering together in one room relatives that developed a lingering friction through the years and silently bridging the gap.

Mom was unselfish. Providing comfort and silent happiness through the pair of lovebirds that are now my dad’s source of therapy.

Mom was unselfish. Reuniting me with my high school classmates and friends with whom I was separated over some childish reasons.

Mom was unselfish. Always on time. Always exact. The amount of money in our hands and the ticking Holy Week clock was enough to provide dad and me the technical comfort in fixing her funeral arrangements.

Mom was unselfish; making her presence felt in a way that I would not be scared.

You were not selfish, mommy. I was the selfish one. I wish you would tell me you are okay. It breaks me knowing that to the last minute you still wanted to live for us even as your frail body was giving you more than enough that you could endure. I love you mommy. I love you.

(For Aurora Villamiel Tierra-Cardenas, September 20, 1943-April 10, 2006, a loving wife, a caring mom)

This entry was posted on Sunday, April 16th, 2006 at 4:21 am and is filed under Family. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.