The process of life and death, as a man, accompanied his own mother, stayed by her side, to the very end, translated…
Mom, you’re discharged, you’re, coming home now.
Although my mother had a ton of the progressive conditions like most elderly, diabetes, hypertension, and the like, but she’s, overall in good health, can live on her own regularly, and would often ride the busses to take herself out, she’d never been hospitalized, nor gone under the knives.———This hospitalization, was the very first time she was being operated on.
My mother had been taking the medication for hypertension and diabetes for a total of about twenty years on end, her kidney function started to deteriorate with the coming of her age, two years ago, she was on the verge of having dialysis, the doctor suggested it, thankfully, my eldest sister was living with her, and looked after her closely, my mother’s kidney function returned back to normal, and the urologist didn’t suggest that she gets dialysis, instead, putting her under observation for a period of time. As my mother heard that dialysis wasn’t necessary, she was, ecstatic, I saw she was happy, and, she’d, infected me with her happiness.
Reason why my mother didn’t want to have dialysis was because my father started having dialysis when he was in his early eighties, and, after a few years of it, he’d, died. My mother instinctively believed, that dialysis is equivalent to death, she’d told me, “I’m not stupid, you want the dialysis to kill me?”, my mother didn’t want it, and now, she didn’t need it, of course, I loved seeing it happen for her.
illustration from the papers online
My mother started traveling happily for two years afterwards. I’d called her happy during this part of her life because her life can be split up into three stages: before marriage, after marriage, and after the death of my father. In the three stages, the former two was mostly pain than joy, but the third had more joys than pain, and, there was, a lot, a whole lot, more joy in her life.
My mother’s mental age was about six years, plus she has a very strong character, and the villagers would often belittle her, using facial expressions and language to insult her, had it not been for meeting up with my father a soldier, I’m certain, that my mother would’ve, never been married in this life, and even if she got married, she may not be, happy at all, the most possible was her, all alone, in a distant country region, living ‘til her end.
But my father, who was all alone in Taiwan, perhaps, he’d needed some sort of stability from the war he’d experienced, or perhaps, he’d, longed for a family of his own, or even, the thought of leaving behind his genes, he’d met my mother by matchmaking, and ended up married to her. After they were wed, the first problem was the differences of language (my father didn’t speak a word of Taiwanese, and my mother, Chinese), plus, there were, endless conflicts between them big or small (they fought often, reason being my mother’s temperament), but my father still worked hard, bit down his teeth, managed, to set up a whole family, raised the four of us, and provided for his own wife, and he’d even, bought a two-story property, left the home they’d stayed in that belonged to my maternal grandfather, and my mother, who was originally looked down by everybody who knew her, suddenly, became the envy of everybody, “Yeh married a Chinese husband, she’s, so very blessed.” Then, my father had, protected my mother all he could during his lifetime, loved my mother, never abandoned her, before he died, he’d told me of just one thing, “No matter how your mother didn’t behave herself, she’s still your mother, you need to look out for her for the rest of her life.” (No matter how dumb my mother was, she’d known, that the man who treated her best was, her husband from China, and so she’d told me several times, “if I die in the future, be sure to get your father to come and pick me up, do you hear me?)
terminally ill elderly woman, with her loved ones, coming to say goodbye, photo from online…
After my father passed, I’d only, followed his order, worked hard, to look after my mother her whole life, bought a property in Taipei, so my mother can move away from the countryside for good, and every weekend, I’d taken her out to dine, to travel, and we’d, played on for twelve years. Until I married, my son, Loo Chang came, and my mother gained a daughter-in-law and a grandson to play with her, for another eight more years, we’d traveled, all over Taipei, had a ton of yummy delicacies, traveled across ALL the tourist attractions. Once, it was my cousin’s wedding, and the group of the hometown folks came up to the wedding, they saw my mother in high spirits, and heard how she’d traveled around every single weekend, they all envied her.———My mother naturally, was NOT aware of everything, she was only, truly, sharing the joys of her life with others, and the villagers all, envied her so, but, as her son, I couldn’t help but gloat (although I’m well aware, that this, wasn’t right, but my mother will NEVER be belittled again, I’m truly very proud of that).
But, this didn’t last, my mother’s kidneys started failing again first, it was her feet, getting swollen she couldn’t put her shoes on, it’d impacted her daily life greatly, she could no longer do like she used to, head out by the bus to travel many times a day.————But my mother was insistent on not getting operated on. I’d told the doctor, if she didn’t want to, then, she won’t. But I’d asked the doctor, what would happen if she didn’t get the operations? He told me she would be in a coma at the end, then, she would need to get rushed into the E.R., get emergency surgery, have dialysis. The doctor respected my mother’s wishes, and only gave her a dose of diuretics, and the liquid accumulating in her calves actually, got released back out, my mother was so happy, she’d started gone out on her trips alone by bus every day, she’d come to school to find me a couple of times too.
A little time later, the fluid started accumulating again, she’d started panting hard as she lay down to sleep at night, she would have cramps in her arms too. The doctor said, that the X-ray showed the liquid had accumulated in her lungs, that she should begin dialysis. And, my mother, because this time, she was, really feeling awful, she’d finally, agreed, to having dialysis.
She went under the knife at Wanfang Hospital on April 18th, and had a catheter on her right shoulder blade. On the 19th, she’d started the dialysis for a short term once, and on the 20th, and the 21st, after her dialysis, she’d gotten rid of the toxin and the emphysema, she’d become, way better, got her appetite back too (had her favorite quarter leg again), her cute smiles showed up again. We were all, very glad. My eldest brother, eldest sister, and I took turns to look after her at the hospital. On April 21st, I took my wife, and Loo Chang to visit her, and my eldest sister was taking her to the basement salon to get her hair cut, after her haircut, she’d looked, even more spirited. The group of us went to Starbucks to have a drink, laughing, carrying on in conversations. I’d had Loo Chang grab his grandmother’s hand, to kiss her, Loo Chang agreed, went over, held his grandmother’s hand quietly, then, gave her a peck on the forehead. My mother was happy.
On April 22nd (Sunday) morning at ten, I’d gone to switch with my eldest sister, so she could head home to get some rest. The ninth floor ward was being waxed, and my older sister was at the first floor sitting with my mother, there was nobody there.
My eldest sister was talking to my mother, “Mom, you’re unfair, if you see my older brother or Cheng, you always smiled, and when you see me, you’d, worn that soured face!”, as my mother was about to rebut, I’d, bear-hugged her from behind, pecked her forehead, my mother was smiling so radiantly. My eldest sister said, “See, I am, telling the truth!”, my mother smiled even harder, pulled my hands tightly.
As my eldest sister left, I’d pushed my mother on her wheelchair, went to the Starbucks next to the hall, ordered a large glass of milk tea, a piece of chocolate cake, my mother ordered up another serving of waffles, we’d sat leisurely. My mother took small sips of the tea she ordered, then, slowly, ate the waffles I’d, cut into smaller pieces for her, I’d sorted through the photos of Loo Chang’s visit with my mother yesterday, how he’d held her hand, kissed her on the forehead, then, transcribed them into words, posted them on Facebook.
At around two in the afternoon, my mother said she wanted to go for a nap. I’d, wheeled her back in, she’d slept for a bit, I’d watched Donella H. Meadow’s “Systematic Thought”, my mother got up to go to the bathroom, I’d helped her to the toilets, helped her pulled her pants down, put her pants back on, she’d gone back to bed again, and before she went to sleep, she’d asked, “When do I get to go home?” She wanted to go home. I’d told her, maybe tomorrow. She was so happy as she’d heard, she’d gone to bed to sleep.
But, in another minute, she’d, gotten back up, told me she needed to go. I’d told her, you just went, she didn’t answer. So, I’d, helped her to the bathrooms, pulled down her pants, put it back on for her. Before she went to bed this time, my mother told me, very peacefully, “Cheng, you take a nap too, okay?” from before, I would’ve said no, that I wanted to read, but I’d, thought about it a bit, and told her okay. I lay by the folding bed beside her to rest, before my mother fell asleep, I’d shown her the photo of Loo Chang holding her hand that I’d posted on FB to her, after she saw, she’d started, smiling so very, radiantly, I’d slid to another photo of Loo Chang kissing her on the forehead, she’d smiled again, then, fell asleep.
Several minutes later, I’d heard one, two snores in the midst of my own daze, I’d thought, mom’s sound asleep, but, then, the snoring stopped altogether, I’d felt weird, got up to check on her, I’d, patted her light, she was, unresponsive, I’d pressed the emergency button by the bed, the nurse asked through the announcer, “What’s the matter?”, I didn’t know how to answer it, just pressed down on the button, and patted my mother, called out to her. The nurse came in, I’d told her that my mother seemed weird, she looked at my mother, called out aloud, turned back to the nurse’s station, then, the doctors, the nurses rushed in, with the equipment, monitors, machines, someone was giving her chest compressions, another was checking her pulse, and, someone was, prepared to intubate, I’d asked what was the matter? The nurse asked who I was? I told her I’m her son. We’re giving her emergency resuscitation, please get to the other side. The doctor turned to me and asked, “Do you want us to go a step further in getting her back? If so, then, we will begin the electric shocks, and the shots. But, grandma will be in pain, and her life may last anywhere from a few hours, to a few days.”
I’d immediately called up my eldest brother, I’d told him what was about to happen, in the end, I’d told the medical staff, “No, doctor, no, allow my mother to sleep from here on out, don’t wake her up again, please.”
As the doctor gave me the form to sign, I’d, signed, with my hands, trembling, and tears came to my eyes. The doctors and nurses started to make their ways out of the room, the doctor said, “Aunty still has little heart beat left, but, her body can no longer keep her alive much longer, if there are your family members who want to see her for the last time, now is the time for them to come in.” I’d asked the doctor, “Why did this happen?”, the doctor told me, “There may be many reasons, as the patients are older, there are, many risks for the surgeries, even IF it was a minor surgery like placing in an artificial blood vessel.”
I’d held tight to mom, kissed her forehead, her left and right cheeks, told her, “Mom, I love you so much, go easily, don’t worry, dad will be picking you up.” Then, I’d moved my face to her lips, so she could kiss me. Then, I’d, held tight to her hands, called up my older brother, my older sister, my wife, and Loo Chang too, as everybody arrived one by one, they’d gone close to my mother’s ear, told her to go easily, that there’s nothing to worry over. I’d told Loo Chang to kiss grandma once more on her forehead, told grandma, “Grandma, go easy, just go into the light.”
Then, my mother’s heart stopped.
Thanks, mom.
My mom is so very, kind.————Even as she got to the final moment of her life, she’d hoped that I was there with her, because she loved being around me the most, she’d felt very comforted, because we’d, played for a total of twenty years together, gone to so many fun places, had a ton of amazing foods, seen many good shows, laughed together, be happy together, she loved her youngest son the most, before she died, she’d called me in to take the nap beside her. Had it not been that, I must’ve carried my regrets! Even if, it was, separated, by the thin drapes.
Thanks, mom, for being so thoughtful, perhaps, she knew, that the dialysis that followed will put the whole family in pain, she’d much, rather fall asleep, being able to, look after herself, for good, to leave the world, to NOT trouble her young, especially, before she fell asleep, she’d, looked at me, at the photo of her grandson, kissing her on the cheeks, she’d, closed her eyes, happily.
In the end, I’d, whispered into her ears, “Mom, I’d told my dad, he will come pick you up, he will take good care of you, no need to stress.” And, “Mom, do tell my dad, that for the over twenty years, Cheng had, taken good care of you, and that Cheng missed him very much too.”
Mom, you’re, released from the hospital now, you can return back to dad now.
Goodbye, mom; goodbye, my dearly, beloved, mom.
This life, I was, your dearly beloved son; in the next time, I want to be, your son again.
This, is the final rite of passage, that this elderly woman had, gotten the chance to share, with her beloved family, and, this is very important, because, nobody can ask for more, for having one’s own loved ones around her/him when s/he passes away, and this son won’t have any regrets, of not being there when his own mother passed away either.
Life, the Obstacle Course 