By: Rizalina K. Araral
2 December 2010
When I visited Mom in Tagum last Sept 15, I couldn't help but notice that she had a clear, glowing complexion that wasn't there a month earlier. Her skin looked so good I thought it meant that she was actually getting better. I was wrong.
During my one-week stay, I saw almost "no sign of life" from her. I knew she was still alive and breathing, but that was all.
It seemed that the last of her fierce brain cells - the stubborn ones that stood their ground and refused to flicker out after many years of massive deterioration - had finally packed their bags and gone home.
I would look at her and feel that there was virtually "no more Mommy" left inside that body. The beautiful, exuberant mother I loved had been reduced to a heartbreaking skin-and-bones figure - attached to feeding and oxygen tubes - that stared blankly into space all day long.
We her loved ones, of course, refused to give up. My sisters and I, my brother Nollie, Auntie El, Nene her caregiver and Dad treated her like nothing was wrong. All day long, we would talk to her, sing to her, caress her and tell her how much we love her.
Once, in the middle of the night, I went to the kitchen to get a drink and passed by her bed. I was surprised that she was still awake, her empty eyes focused at the molecules that danced across the room. I held her face and pleaded, "Mommy, matulog ka na, pleeeeeeeaze?"
After that, whenever I would pass by her bed, I would close my eyes and beg, "Lord, kunin Mo na si Mommy please??? Maawa Ka na sa kanya...."
My heart grew so heavy from all my pleading that I didn't want to pass by Mom's corner anymore.
Despite the pain, however, life wasn't all gloom and doom for us. There were days when the dark clouds went away and the sun shone thru, even if only for a while.
One such day was when Auntie El was about to leave for Cotabato City. She had tried her best to get even the slightest nod or the faintest trace of a smile from Mommy during her four-day stay but got nothing. Only one endless heart-breaking vacant stare.
Now that she was going home, Auntie held Mommy's hand and cooed to her, "Manang Dianita, pabaunan mo naman ako ng smile mo, please????" All of a sudden, Mom broke into a big smile - several times!
I was in the bathroom when this happened, and I was jolted by great shrieks and clapping outside. Nene and Auntie El couldn't believe what they saw. Mom smiled several times! They went wild with joy.
When I got out of the bathroom, Auntie was wiping tears from her eyes.
The next "sunshine episode" came in mid-October when my brother Edjun flew in from Singapore to check on Mom. I was eating sinigang na bangus at Aling Glo's Restaurant when Nene texted me, "Lin, tumaas ang kilay ni ma'am at nag-smile sya kay Edjun ng apat na beses!"
I didn't know what to say. That was great headline news, but I was confused.
Why do Mom's brain cells flicker in and out, it seems, oh so randomly? Could there ever be any rhyme and reason behind it all? What is happening here? What is this all about?
After that incident, I no longer received any more “sunshine message” from Nene. I guess there were no more happy moments to report.
Meanwhile, I kept crying out to heaven, "Lord please take Mommy home with You in your perfect time and perfect way! Let Your will be done in her life, pleeeeeeaze?"
It didn't take long before God answered my prayer. Mommy breathed her last on Nov 2 at around 6 pm.
What were her final moments like? Nene has a beautiful story to tell. Translated from Tagalog, it goes like this:
"Ma'am - who was perpetually awake - fell into deep sleep on Oct 31. She was in such deep sleep, I sensed that somehow, the end might be near.
I began making preparations for her wake. I went to the market, bought oxalic acid and bleached her favorite Barong Tagalog dress. I also bought her a new set of underwear, I wanted her to wear only the best.
On Nov 2 at around 5:50 pm, ma'am woke up without warning. Her eyes were wide open and I couldn't believe it: they were fresh - very fresh – full of life!
I felt that she wanted to talk to me. I thought that she was thanking me for taking care of her for the last five years, so I said, 'It's okay, ma'am. Your family has helped me a lot too.' After five minutes of 'conversation', I realized that perhaps she had so much more to say, but it wasn't to me anymore.
I rushed to sir's room and woke him up. 'Sir, ma'am has something to say to you,' I hollered, tears welling up in my eyes.
At ma'am's bedside, sir held her hand and gently kissed her on the forehead. Then he leaned over and whispered, 'We love you, Mommy...'
Ma'am's eyes were bright, I knew she was trying her best to talk to him. A minute later, it was time to go. She closed her eyes and went."
Nene gets all excited whenever she tells this story, and never gets tired repeating it to anyone who cares to listen. And me? I never get tired thanking the Lord for the way Mom left.
Virtually inaccessible to the world during the last five months, Mom had "returned" and spent her final minute with Dad, the man who had walked with her for the last 48 years.
For one last time, God parted the clouds of Alzheimer's Disease and let the sun in - even if only for a few minutes. Not a bad way to go for one who spent much of her life bringing sunshine to people around her.
Today I smile because Mom is finally in the arms of her Savior. The One she loved magnificently. The One she trusted completely to have paid the full penalty of all her sins by His perfect sacrifice for her on the cross. The One who, by His undeserved goodness, His trusting child access to His Home.
Over at the Savior’s Home, Mommy is healed and beautiful. Over there, no storm clouds darken the sky and there is no more need for any sun - for the Son Himself shines in unspeakable splendor.
Over there, no Alzheimer's Disease can crush the brain, and a mother has no problem remembering her daughter's name.
"Now the dwelling of God is with men, and He will live with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.
"His servants will see His face, and there will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light." (Revelation 21 and 22).
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