The imprints of death, what this woman left behind, for a stranger who became a friend to her, translated…
Being a volunteer at the terminal ward, the patients here used their mortality to teach me about the process of death, also using their stories, to teach me how to live life better.
I’d met her five years ago, at the enterology ward, back then my mother had urinary tract problems and was hospitalized, and she was staying in the hospitals for the inflammation of her kidneys caused by lupus, she and my mother were next-bed “neighbors”.
Being young and beautiful, she worked in the beauty industries, very articulate, excellent with hair dressing and massages. She’d taught me how to wash my mother’s hair using a board, and the tips to massage my mother who has edema in her lower limbs. She’d told me, that bliss is when there’s nothing that’s worse that happens to you. And, her words, rang true to me, who’s, a worrywart, and I’d had her call me “older sister”, but I’d felt like, I was, a younger sister to her even more.
Until my mother was discharged from the hospitals, she still stayed to be treated, before we parted, we’d added one another as contacts on each other’s Facebook, in the days that followed, I’d learned of how she was faring from FB, that she’d, gone in and out of the hospital quite frequently, and just allowed fate to take over, and every now and then, she’d be, humorous. As she felt better, she’d, set up her own broadcasting channel on FB, selling the jewelries she made herself, and she’d, made the sticky rice wrapped in bamboo leaves during the Dragon Boat Festivals. She’d stated, so long there’s another day for her, she will, live her life with her whole heart, to not let her families feel, that her only functions are taking her medications and being hospitalized.
As my mother died two years ago, I’d started working as a volunteer at the terminal ward of the hospital. That day, I reported to the volunteer unit with the nurses, and wrote down the name of the patient who signed on for the essential oils massage, as that familiar name was written by the nurse, my heart sank, “could it be, her?”, then, I’d thought, of how I hadn’t heard from her in a very long time online.
On the bed, she was, bloated up, like a doll made of balloon, as she saw me, she was stunned at first, struggled to prop herself up, but because of how weak she was, she couldn’t speak a word. I’d signaled her that she didn’t need to get up, nor talk, she’d grabbed my hands, and started laughing and crying. Her boyfriend told me, that her kidneys are completely, damaged, that she didn’t want to go through dialysis anymore, and the doctors confirmed that her conditions can’t be, cured, and so, she’d, checked into the hospice program, wanting her final mile to be as smooth as possible. She’d even signed the slips to have her body donated, believed, that she’d, used, too much of the medical resources, that this was the only way, she could, pay back what she’d taken. I’d, gently patted her legs and thighs, and used the techniques she’d once taught me, to push the accumulation of the liquid in her body upward, to help her feel better, she’d smiled and gave me a thumb up.
On a bright and sunny spring morning, she turned into that beautiful butterfly, flapped her wings, and flew off. Her families and I both whispered to her, your illness had now been, cured, and now, you will be, reborn in heaven and earth. I’m very grateful toward her, she taught me, to cherish the time I have, to live my life fully, to help others.
And so, this original stranger to this woman had, left that important legacy, the love for others, the willingness, the ability to help someone else, to put someone else’s needs before our own, and that, is a lesson this woman taught the writer, with her own life!
Life, the Obstacle Course 