Saturday, March 15, 2008

Memories and Palm Sunday

I went to attend the anticipated mass today and a pastoral letter from Archbishop Rosales was read during the homily. While the priest was reading through the letter, I suddenly remembered how painful my past Holy Week was 3 years ago.

My mom was sick and after several days of confinement, the doctor decided to bring her in the ICU. We, including my mom, were so so scared. Aside from the fact that we felt we were left in the dark about her true condition by her doctor (that's why I never returned to Medical City), I was so afraid of losing my mom. It was Palm Sunday when she was brought in. She kept saying to us --"Don't leave me -- I might not wake up anymore." Her condition grew worse as the Holy Week passed by one day at a time. On Good Friday, at 3pm, while I was praying since that was the time of Our Lord's death on the cross, there was a call from the doctors for us to enter my mom's room. The hard part was, I was only with my Tita Jo at that time. My dad was at home getting some things while my sister was in the church hoping to attend the services there. As my tita and I rushed towards the guarded entrance of the ICU, I saw there standing the chaplain of the hospital. I thought to myself that at 3pm isn't he supposed to be in the chapel for the vigil? Why was he there too?

What I saw next was a sight I would never ever forget. When we got to where my mom was, the priest also headed straight to her and blessed her. My mom's blood pressure dived and at that very minute the doctors were trying to revive her. The monitor was showing a flat line and she looked gray and dead already. But the doctors tried and tried to bring her back. You can just imagine how I felt. I felt that God was playing a trick on me. I was shouting, I was crying, I was praying. I whispered to my mom's ear -- Jesus, Mary and Joseph, assist me in my last suffering...It was so hard on my part.

I called up my dad and sister and they rushed to the hospital. My mom was clinically dead already but miraculously, the doctors got a pulse after 25 minutes. After they got her heartbeat back, that was the time that my family arrived. My mom got back her color but never regained consciousness.

I believe that there was a reason why God allowed me to be there to witness the pains of my dying mother. I want to think that God made me experience that to make me stronger and braver. And God couldn't have picked a better time to bring unto Himself my mom --- 3pm just like Jesus -- when graces are pouring mightly from the heavens to the whole of the earth.

Nanay, after much struggle and pain, eventually passed away the next day just after when I had prayed the Angelus at 12 noon. Since the Angelus was a prayer about Mama Mary and the incarnation, it made me feel as if it was Our Lady who brought my mom to God.

We decided then to have the wake at home. Our house was newly-constructed and my mom lived there for only 2.5 months. Her body arrived home exactly at 12 midnight of Easter morning. Doesn't the church celebrate the Salubong (the meeting of the Madre Dolorosa and the resurrected Christ) at 12 midnight too? Really, the timing couldn't be any better.

Oh I miss my mom. Sob.

1 insights:

Tinggay said...

nakakaiyak naman to vina, i have so many similar memories from my mom when she was sick and when she died.......

 
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