What if Mom forgets about me?
Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you. -- Is. 49:15, NAB
Mommy Guilly, my 62-year-old mother, was diagnosed of liver cirrhosis last year. She was confined at Cebu Doctros University Hospital for two weeks but went home to Bohol when everything started to become normal again. My brother Glindo, his wife and children, are living in our family house in Dimiao. That is why I was not so worried because they’d be there to take care of mother.
Everything went fine for the past year. I sent food supplements for mother and occasionally visit her and buy them some provisions. She was still very active and even personally took care of our farm and made sure that everything was managed well even if she can’t be there most of the time.
On the last week of August this year, I brought her back to Cebu for check-up because the symptoms that we observed last year when she was hospitalized came back. The symptoms included bloating of her stomach and feet. Her eyes and skin also became yellow. And, yes, she was tired most of the time. The doctor was very nice to us. She made sure that we have accurate understanding about the illness. She prescribed medicine to take out the extra water from Mom’s body as well as to prevent the bleeding that she experienced last year. Mom was responding well to the medication. She stayed with us in Cebu for more than two weeks until I brought her back to Bohol last week (September 18, 2006.) Two days ago, however, my brother had been sending me weird text messages about mother. He said that she became hot tempered; that she seems looking for things but could not decide what they were; she would not change dress; she skipped meals and would flare up when she's invited to eat. This alarmed me though but I would rather trust in the love of God than fear about the situation.
I decided to bring her again to Cebu so that I could personally take care of her. My brother raised to me the issue that he could not take care of his small business if he will take care of mother all the time. I understand his predicament since he also has a wife and two kids to take care of. In Cebu, however, I can always find time to take care and look after my mother.
When I went to Bohol yesterday (September 25, 2006), I entered Mommy’s room right away. I found her naked. She was looking for a dress. I helped her find one. At first she would not allow me to help her, but with love and respect, I assured her that everything is going to be fine. I gave her a shirt to put on, but she was still looking for another shirt. I thought she felt cold so I gave her another one. When she had put on the second shirt, I noticed that something really is really wrong when she insisted of finding a third shirt. I then started to call her attention and told her that she is already wearing one, well…actually, two.
My brother told me that she hadn’t had water the whole morning so I invited her to the kitchen and made her eat some of the torta that I bought from Tagbilaran. She ate two of the torta and drank some water and I was happy about it. I also cooked corn soup for her and grilled two “tulingan” fish for lunch. She liked the grilled fish better than the soup because she said the soup was too sweet. A relative visited her after she had eaten snacks and asked her what was going on. I felt cold sweat all over me when she simply said, “I’m forgetting things!”
As I sit here in front of the PC composing this entry, a lot of things come to mind (yes, tears keep flowing too). I know I and my brother will be able to manage the farm, the rice mill, the truck and other family business and properties . . . But what about mother? What if one day she will not be able to recognize me or my brother? What if she would feel afraid and alone because she does not recognize the people that are taking care of her? What if she will not be able to appreciate the love I, my brother, or her grandchildren would give her? What if I will not be understood when I tell her how much I love her. What if . . . what if?
One thing is for sure though and that is I will continue to love her and love her even more. But this time, I will be the mother to her and she the precious child in my hand. Mary Baker Eddy, an American religious figure and spiritual healer in the late 19th century, has a poem that has suddenly become alive to me this time. I know this is the one that will guide me and will become the lyrics of my song as I take care of Mommy Guilly…as I start becoming a mother to her:
Mommy Guilly, my 62-year-old mother, was diagnosed of liver cirrhosis last year. She was confined at Cebu Doctros University Hospital for two weeks but went home to Bohol when everything started to become normal again. My brother Glindo, his wife and children, are living in our family house in Dimiao. That is why I was not so worried because they’d be there to take care of mother.
Everything went fine for the past year. I sent food supplements for mother and occasionally visit her and buy them some provisions. She was still very active and even personally took care of our farm and made sure that everything was managed well even if she can’t be there most of the time.
On the last week of August this year, I brought her back to Cebu for check-up because the symptoms that we observed last year when she was hospitalized came back. The symptoms included bloating of her stomach and feet. Her eyes and skin also became yellow. And, yes, she was tired most of the time. The doctor was very nice to us. She made sure that we have accurate understanding about the illness. She prescribed medicine to take out the extra water from Mom’s body as well as to prevent the bleeding that she experienced last year. Mom was responding well to the medication. She stayed with us in Cebu for more than two weeks until I brought her back to Bohol last week (September 18, 2006.) Two days ago, however, my brother had been sending me weird text messages about mother. He said that she became hot tempered; that she seems looking for things but could not decide what they were; she would not change dress; she skipped meals and would flare up when she's invited to eat. This alarmed me though but I would rather trust in the love of God than fear about the situation.
I decided to bring her again to Cebu so that I could personally take care of her. My brother raised to me the issue that he could not take care of his small business if he will take care of mother all the time. I understand his predicament since he also has a wife and two kids to take care of. In Cebu, however, I can always find time to take care and look after my mother.
When I went to Bohol yesterday (September 25, 2006), I entered Mommy’s room right away. I found her naked. She was looking for a dress. I helped her find one. At first she would not allow me to help her, but with love and respect, I assured her that everything is going to be fine. I gave her a shirt to put on, but she was still looking for another shirt. I thought she felt cold so I gave her another one. When she had put on the second shirt, I noticed that something really is really wrong when she insisted of finding a third shirt. I then started to call her attention and told her that she is already wearing one, well…actually, two.
My brother told me that she hadn’t had water the whole morning so I invited her to the kitchen and made her eat some of the torta that I bought from Tagbilaran. She ate two of the torta and drank some water and I was happy about it. I also cooked corn soup for her and grilled two “tulingan” fish for lunch. She liked the grilled fish better than the soup because she said the soup was too sweet. A relative visited her after she had eaten snacks and asked her what was going on. I felt cold sweat all over me when she simply said, “I’m forgetting things!”
As I sit here in front of the PC composing this entry, a lot of things come to mind (yes, tears keep flowing too). I know I and my brother will be able to manage the farm, the rice mill, the truck and other family business and properties . . . But what about mother? What if one day she will not be able to recognize me or my brother? What if she would feel afraid and alone because she does not recognize the people that are taking care of her? What if she will not be able to appreciate the love I, my brother, or her grandchildren would give her? What if I will not be understood when I tell her how much I love her. What if . . . what if?
One thing is for sure though and that is I will continue to love her and love her even more. But this time, I will be the mother to her and she the precious child in my hand. Mary Baker Eddy, an American religious figure and spiritual healer in the late 19th century, has a poem that has suddenly become alive to me this time. I know this is the one that will guide me and will become the lyrics of my song as I take care of Mommy Guilly…as I start becoming a mother to her:
MOTHER'S EVENING PRAYER
Mary Baker Eddy
O gentle presence, peace and joy and power;
O Life divine, that owns each waiting hour,
Thou Love that guards the nestling's faltering flight!
Keep Thou my child on upward wing tonight.
Love is our refuge; only with mine eye Can I
behold the snare, the pit, the fall:
His habitation high is here, and nigh,
His arm encircles me, and mine, and all.
O make me glad for every scalding tear,
For hope deferred, ingratitude, disdain!
Wait, and love more for every hate, and fear
No ill, — since God is good, and loss is gain.
Beneath the shadow of His mighty wing;
In that sweet secret of the narrow way,
Seeking and finding, with the angels sing:
"Lo, I am with you alway," — watch and pray.
No snare, no fowler, pestilence or pain;
No night drops down upon the troubled breast,
When heaven's aftersmile earth's tear-drops gain,
And mother finds her home and heav'nly rest.
posted by jundags @ 4:28 PM
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