A Sad Day

Rosy Tan 1934-2002. Wife, Mother & Grandmother par excellence!

Exactly three years ago to this day, my mother died after a painfully long spell of illness (12 years) that saw her deteriorate from an abled-bodied, proud, merticulous, first-class home-maker, enterprising person to an almost blind, bed-ridden, insulin dependent, dialysis dependent, had to be fed through a nasogastric tube and a catheter sticking out of her stomach. She had a stroke, followed by a heart attack that required a quadruple coronary artery bypass surgery, diabetic retinopathy, and a transtibial amputation of her left leg. So for her sake**, I was glad her misery finally ended. I really wished we had other options. Unfortunately, death appear to be the only panacea available to her.

You see, I have this "secret wish/dream" that I always haboured. Things I wanted to do with my parents - especially my mum. I rarely ever have a wishlist when I pray to God. This is one of those. Never came to pass. Don't get me wrong, when my mum died, I did not have things that I wish I had done. I believe I did the best I could for her. But I just wanted to do a little more. Why not. She gave birth to me, raised me with every cent she could and could not spare. She has never ceased to care for me - not even after I got married and have children of my own. I've always felt she deserved better. Her life on earth was harsh - to say the least.

I think of her often. Even more so now on every 7th day of June and 1st day of October - the anniversary of her death and her birthday. I still get picture flashes of the first time I had to see her fully naked before me. Completely hapless. No, I'm not ashame of seeing her naked. It's the circumstance. Another is the day she took her last breath in the hospital. It was painful to see her live with all the tubes, and missing or non-functioning body parts. So death was really the lesser of two evil. But nothing prepared me to see someone I love take her last breath. Suddenly, life felt so cold, so noir, so meaningless.

Anyway, I do try to move on. She did teach me many invaluable lessons about life. I cherish them. I hope to see and talk to her again. Frankly, I have very little confident I will. My Christian faith is fast diminishing. Much of my Christ-ian hope is turning into despair. Regardless, I miss her. It's funny how I actually have not dreamed of her, not even once, since her death.

**There are some dark days when I wonder if my own tiredness & despair had wished for her death. As a caregiver, I (my other family members too) was physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually and financially drained. On such days, I feel very shameful, am very angry and hate myself. God is not spared either!