Less than three days ago, I was in Vancouver. My flight was departing today evening and arriving Cairo tomorrow night. I desperately needed a change of scenery; a breath of fresh air. But, I couldn't ignore the pessimistic doctor's death forecast that my father graciously texted me; "Test results not good. Probably fall into coma on Tuesday or Friday latest. Monday's test results to confirm. Sorry..."
My heart fell to my feet. I was 24 hours away. Will I make it in time? What a journey that was. My heart skipped a beat every-time she didn't answer her phone. But, I made it in time. And now I wonder, was it worth it? The impulsive decision jump on the plane and head back. What did I gain? What would I have lost if I had returned tomorrow? Well, if she's still alive by tomorrow night, I wouldn't have lost much. But what I did gain are the precious lessons of witnessing mother's journey through tunnels excruciating pain and suffering. Never again will I complain of a headache, stubbed toe or bruised elbow. Never again will I complain.
The pain is ever increasing. I stroke her arm gently as she sleeps, just like you stoke a sleeping baby. Her skin feels so soft against mine. She used to like it when I lay by her side. I wanted her to know that I'm right here by her side. That she is not alone. But, mum can't bare the weight of a single fingernail to her skin yet alone an arm or hand. "You're hurting me!" she screams. "your nails are too sharp, why are you doing this to me? This is all your fault!"
I replied earnestly, "Mum, you cut my nails so short just a week ago remember?"
She pulls her hand away from mine every time I come to touch. I wish I could give her one last hug. To rest my head on her chest just one last time. To tell her I love her and that its all going to be okay one way or the other. But the time for affection has passed. Nothing left but pain and suffering. It's not her fault. She just can't comprehend anything beyond the pain. I'm glad we shared a few hugs, kisses and cuddles before it was too late. I'm really lucky to have known her before these rough times.
My heart fell to my feet. I was 24 hours away. Will I make it in time? What a journey that was. My heart skipped a beat every-time she didn't answer her phone. But, I made it in time. And now I wonder, was it worth it? The impulsive decision jump on the plane and head back. What did I gain? What would I have lost if I had returned tomorrow? Well, if she's still alive by tomorrow night, I wouldn't have lost much. But what I did gain are the precious lessons of witnessing mother's journey through tunnels excruciating pain and suffering. Never again will I complain of a headache, stubbed toe or bruised elbow. Never again will I complain.
The pain is ever increasing. I stroke her arm gently as she sleeps, just like you stoke a sleeping baby. Her skin feels so soft against mine. She used to like it when I lay by her side. I wanted her to know that I'm right here by her side. That she is not alone. But, mum can't bare the weight of a single fingernail to her skin yet alone an arm or hand. "You're hurting me!" she screams. "your nails are too sharp, why are you doing this to me? This is all your fault!"
I replied earnestly, "Mum, you cut my nails so short just a week ago remember?"
She pulls her hand away from mine every time I come to touch. I wish I could give her one last hug. To rest my head on her chest just one last time. To tell her I love her and that its all going to be okay one way or the other. But the time for affection has passed. Nothing left but pain and suffering. It's not her fault. She just can't comprehend anything beyond the pain. I'm glad we shared a few hugs, kisses and cuddles before it was too late. I'm really lucky to have known her before these rough times.
Good article on finger weights, awaiting for more such post from your side!
ReplyDeletefinger strength