My Mom was diagnosed with colon cancer sometime in May 2005. Life was never the same for us since then.
Being the eldest I felt I was the closest to both of my parents, years later I realized how mistaken I was. I might be the closest to my Dad, but with my Mom, I realized that the three of us (I have a brother, of whom I am four years older and a sister who is seven years younger than me) have our own special relationship with her. Reminds me of this anecdote I read years ago about some curious neighbor asking another neighbor blessed with so many children: How on earth do you divide your love among your children? And the couple's reply: "We don't divide, we multiply!" This is, in a nutshell, how I would describe my Mom. She multiplied her love among us her children and her husband.
My Mom, with her tremendous faith, prayed hard to her Lord and Savior, to be given enough strength to fight her cancer cells. And to much extent she did. Having also lost her older sister (our favorite spinster aunt, Andrea) a few years before her diagnosis, to breast cancer, she didn't want to go through her doctor's chemotherapy program. Instead she opted to take the path of the alternative medicine. It must have been an effective medicine and coupled with her tremendous faith, she was spared any cancer pains. In fact she was able to resume most of her activities prior to her diagnosis. But deep down, we also knew she was on borrowed time. One of Mommy's passion was visiting the sick and the dying. This she continued to do as soon as she was well enough to do visitations. She would tirelessly share her faith, the story of Jesus Christ and would not renege until the sickly makes their peace with their Maker.
Last 24 Jul, my Mom would turned 76, she joined her Maker on 7 Jan 2009, she was 72 years old. I've been wanting to write a fitting tribute for her last January on the occasion of her 3rd death anniversary, but I was pleasantly distracted by how the Lord compensated my loneliness through the addition of another member of our family. My sister-in-law gave birth to a bouncing baby girl on that special day. Then came July, but I couldn't get myself to start as I found myself crying. How I missed her terribly!
Today, more than three years of her death, I wouldn't be exaggerating when I say that I think of her each day. Two months after she passed away, a very close friend of mine (who also lost her mother years ahead of me) told me that the pain doesn't go away, you just learn to live with it. Sad but so true.
I miss her when I have good days and when I have bad days.
She has so much wisdom in her to have the right words during my good days and my bad days.
But I have absolutely no bitterness about the timing of her demise. I'm so sure that she lived a full life and that when the Lord took her, it was His perfect time. I'm sure she also wanted to be reunited with her own parents, siblings and all those friends who have gone ahead of her.
I'm sorry, but I have to stop now as tears are streaming down my cheeks. I haven't even really started on the actual meat of my story, i.e., the lessons I have learned from her. Yet, I must stop, writing about her makes me miss her more.
No comments:
Post a Comment