Because you’d, spent some time with your own mother, you have, NO regrets, after she’d, died, translated…
“The North Wind Blow/the Snow Falls/Underneath that Lonely Light/Only My Mother………” that folk song came, from the radio, and it’d, roused up the feelings of missing my own mom, along with our very last, conversation. The lucid memories are like the wind, taking me, to that old mansion, so suddenly.
It was February that year, the weather, a bit, colder, my father-in-law was in critical condition, hospitalized, and, I had another worry, my mother, who’s not, doing at all, that well. I’d called home during that time, my mom who’s, weakened was always, too drowsy, only spoke a few short words, then, passed out.
One day I received a call from the hired caretaker, said that my mother’s oxygen level was low in her blood, my heart tightened, and I took the high-speed rail, southbound immediately.
The afternoon sunshine, slanted in to the vacant living room, passed through that long hallway, I’d arrived at the bedroom on the first floor, where my mother was, fast, asleep. I walked to the bed, saw her slender face, the room was filled with the sound of the blood-oxygen machine and her heavy breathing.
I’d called to her light, “Mom, I’m home!”, she’d opened up her eyes, “Why are you home? Have you eaten yet?”, then, she told me she wanted to get out of bed, and I’d, helped her onto the wheelchair with the homecare nurse, and took her to the living room.
on her, deathbed…
My mother’s weakened body can’t sit up straight, she’d told me weakly, that her mouth tasted, bitter, I told the nurse, to get some plum pieces, that was from two weeks ago when I’d come home, it was my mother’s, favorite. The nurse broke off a small piece to give to her, she’d looked at the nurse, told, “Give some to second eldest too.” Her words was this surge of warmth, entered into my body, that was my mother’s love for me, I knew she was sharing it because she loved it so.
Not long thereafter, she’d told us she was short of breath, wanted to return back to bed to lie. So we’d, wheeled her back to her bedroom, put her to bed, then, she fell into a comatose, slurred her speech, until the end.
As I’d lost my father and my eldest sister, they’d not had the opportunities to have a final word with us, and so, my mother’s, “give a piece to second eldest” became something cherished, it was the love overflowing for me from my mother, and it’s, also, something that was, unforgettable, as I’d, remembered my mother since.
And so, this, is on life and death, of how important it is, to BE with, one’s own parents, of how important those moments that you will NEVER get a chance to live again means, after the loved ones, passed on, to leave, NO words of love unsaid, to have, NO regrets, left behind!