Friday, April 10, 2009
My Good Friday
It was all planned out. Holy Thursday would be a day with Inang. The day before, we talked about going to seven churches in the area, out of tradition, for the stations of the cross. Early Thursday morning, she was feeling dizzy. It worsened throughout the day. Her blood pressure was fluctuating too. The dizzy feeling did not want to stop except when she lay down still. I sedated her, but when the Valium wore off, she would feel the whole room spinning and spinning and spinning...
Towards the afternoon, she wasn't getting any better and started asking God, why her? What has she done wrong? Why was it her sacrifice to bear? Towards the evening, I had shifted her to new medications and she did not seem to improve. As a matter of fact, she thought of dying and was asking God if this was her exit plan in this world?
When it is someone you love so dearly, you cannot help but feel helpless during times like these. It was painful to see her cry and beg for the spinning to stop. But there was not much I could do. Or anyone else for that matter. I could not help but stare at a frail woman who had so much faith and devotion to God, crumble before my very eyes. And I could not help shed some tears as she literally begged to die.
During those agonizing moments, I remember that she had sent me a text message the day before, that read "Every time I begin to feel that there isn't enough strength left in me, I end up knowing that there's more in Him. God sustains us...".
I slept beside her the whole evening. Praying that she would be better when I wake up. Assuring her that I am here by her side and with her in her trials during this time of illness. It was strange because I have not slept beside her in years. She woke up in the middle of the night and I was staring at her and she murmured, "why are you here? I thought you'd be sleeping in your room."
"Not tonight", I replied. "Close your eyes and get some rest. I'm just here." And she had drifted off to sleep once more.
Every one has his share of Good Fridays. We bear our crosses and we are lucky if we have a Simon of Cyrene to help us carry the burden. I pray that she recovers soon. Prayers are all that is left in my vocabulary at this point.
When push comes to shove, we realize that we humble ourselves and prostrate before God, begging Him for divine intervention.
Today, all I can do is wait for my mom's Easter Sunday.