On filial relations, translated…
I’d walked, quickly into the physical rehab department of the hospital, my husband waved toward me, called me toward him, showed me where mom was.
I’d walked up and looked, this wasn’t my mother! The elderly in the bed, her face is just as grayed out as her clothes, there were discharge around her eyes, how can my mom look like this? I’d looked up and around, turns out, my mom was in the bed over at the far corner. At that moment, my heart felt settled, and, I’d felt that rising displeasure toward my husband too.
But, honestly, I can’t possibly find a better fitting son-in-law for my mother. After my mother fell ill, he’d become her chauffeur, showed her the care and concerns she’d needed all the time, he was really amazing. The only thing that surprised me was, when he’d told me, that all those elderly ladies who were ill all looked one in the same.
I can’t blame him for it I suppose, my mother had been ill for many years, and, she’d become, weaker and weaker by the days, in the past, she’d stood there, elegantly on the podium in front of a classroom, lecturing, and even as she was in a wheelchair, she’d, insisted on getting her hair done at the salons, but, the two strokes she’d had caused the traumas, it’d made her need to speak, with ALL the strengths she has left in her.
My mom looked like she was in good spirits, said that the physical therapist was kind toward her, massaged her body. I’d, patted her hair, and told her she was amazing, just like she’d done for me when I fell ill as a child. And, from time to time, when people passed by, and called “professor” to refer to her, it’s, as if, I caught a glimpse of my mother, who was well dressed, and readied to go to class.
I’d accompanied her, and knew, that she’d agreed to physical rehab, because she’d not wanted to be a burden to us, my heart ached for her, and I’d, closed my eyes.
And, all I saw were, the memories of my mother, getting off work from the colleges, changed into her colorful household clothes, smiled, as she’d prepared the meals…………must be how the hospital is facing the west, the sun had, stung my eyes, to make me cry, I’d walked toward the window, pulled the blinds down.
Or maybe, in the eyes of those we loved, we never see what’s right before us; so, that, was why our hearts wrenched. We always see the years before, everything big and small that’s, happened to them, that, is the angle of love, shared by the members of the families.
And so, this, is after your mother fell ill, she used to be independent, able-bodied, but now, she lay there, on the hospital bed, weakened, and, it’s not like the mother you knew at all, that, was why you’d felt so deeply about it.
Life, the Obstacle Course 