Just a few days ago, I received information that my mom suffered a stroke leaving her partially paralyzed and speech-impaired. Having been away as the incident occurred left me with not much to do but hope and pray. I was told that mom’s physical strength seems to be vanquishing. As of this writing, she is heavily disoriented. Although her words are incomprehensible, my sister told me that she seemed asking for me, apparently fearing her time would come before I would arrive back home.
And, I’m still here in Saudi, stuck up in the middle of the desert. Some things have prevented me from coming home. Of course, there should be no excuses but if you are in a foreign land and things are out of hand, there is not really much things to do. It breaks my heart to be just staying here so idle while mom struggles for life. And it pains me more to be feeling so powerless and worthless...
On my last vacation, mom was already frail. In spite of it, she does her chores. She cooks her food, cleans her yard, maintains her garden, washes her clothes manually, gathers firewood, treks the two-kilometer distance to the market and church every day, wakes up at 3 am for her daily rosary and novena. Even at her old age, weakness, poor vision and hearing, she prefers the things traditional over comfort and luxury.
Since the death of my father four years ago, it is mom whom the family turns to for advice and comfort. And all she wanted for me was to come home safe and well.
I love my mom, of course, like everyone else. I am the youngest in the family and you can imagine how closer I am to her than my brothers and sisters. I had stupid experiences with mom too but always, it’s the sweet moments that stick to my mind. And it hurts to know that she is out there suffering and calling out my name.
On my last vacation, I asked her one week into my departure back to Saudi. “Mom, next week, I’ll be off to Manila
She stopped her dishwashing, slowly turned and hugged me tight. “I don’t know if I you will still see me alive when you return, son… I seem to be so weak. But keep on praying – that we will still be given the chance to see each other again.” mom said as tears flowed down her face and her voice cracked sobbing on my shoulders.
I did not answer her anymore. I just cried with her. On the day I left, I never came to her for fear that she would again break into tears.
That was the last time I saw and talked with mom. And with her present condition, everyone in the family has resigned to the fact that at any moment soon she will leave us.
But right now, my only hope is to come home, see her alive and tell her one thing I have never told her before, “Mom, I love you so much…”
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Note: My mother died a few days after I finally arrived home...
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