Grieve comes in levels and in waves. I don't know how to stop it or when it will come. When it comes, there are moments I feel that I can no longer breath on my own.
I remember so clearly the last meal I shared with you two mornings ago. You haven't been eating much and has little to no appetite to almost everything. Most of your days were spent in bed, and whenever you were awake (however little), you would sit on the chair next to the bed. You were never awake for more than half an hour at a time. I asked if you would like to eat some food, you said no. Then I asked if you would like to eat the Japanese pear we bought, you agreed. I brought the whole fruit in, sat on the floor and cut it in the room while you sat on a chair watching. I passed the first slice to you, you held it with your right hand and ate it. Then I cut a slice for myself and ate it. It was the nicest pear I've had. But it would taste nicer without the skin, so I sliced another piece and removed the skin, and passed it to you. You took it, then you wanted another, and another one. It was the most I've seen you eaten in a week. The final two slices of that 3/4 pear, you said you had enough but I mentioned just one more slice to finish this half, I popped a slice in my mouth, you extended your hand and said the longest sentence you said to me all morning :"you said you would pass me a piece but you ate it". I handed you the last slice smiling. After you finished that slice, I stood up and got some wet tissues to wipe your fingers. The moment I was done, you asked for some wet tissues and I told you your fingers were already wiped. You accepted the answer and sat there for a while before declaring you want to lie down.
I helped you up, then sat down on the bed, lifted your swollen legs onto the bed. You flipped on your side and closed your eyes to rest. I touched your hair and watched your rest for a bit before leaving the room.
Never in my wildest dreams that this scene would haunt me even in my waking hours.
You deteriorated fast that day, by afternoon I knew something was wrong and called for the ambulance, you refused to get on it. My brother arrived back from Singapore then, and even he wasn't able to get you on the ambulance. It took us till midnight before you were wheeled through the emergency door. I stayed by your side the whole night while you physically struggled, I watched as you mentally slipped away from me each hour. By morning, you no longer had your conscious and could not recognize me or my brother, but you still had the ability to recognize our voice. By afternoon, you lost that too.
As I watch you now, you can no longer swallow water nor spit out phlegm. I don't know if you can hear the "I love you's" I whispered in your ear, or feel the kisses I planted in your hair, or notice the tears on your clothes. Mom, I don't know what I'll do when I can no longer feel this warmth emanating from your hand.
You have walked through every pain in my life. I have never felt pain this lonely.
I remember so clearly the last meal I shared with you two mornings ago. You haven't been eating much and has little to no appetite to almost everything. Most of your days were spent in bed, and whenever you were awake (however little), you would sit on the chair next to the bed. You were never awake for more than half an hour at a time. I asked if you would like to eat some food, you said no. Then I asked if you would like to eat the Japanese pear we bought, you agreed. I brought the whole fruit in, sat on the floor and cut it in the room while you sat on a chair watching. I passed the first slice to you, you held it with your right hand and ate it. Then I cut a slice for myself and ate it. It was the nicest pear I've had. But it would taste nicer without the skin, so I sliced another piece and removed the skin, and passed it to you. You took it, then you wanted another, and another one. It was the most I've seen you eaten in a week. The final two slices of that 3/4 pear, you said you had enough but I mentioned just one more slice to finish this half, I popped a slice in my mouth, you extended your hand and said the longest sentence you said to me all morning :"you said you would pass me a piece but you ate it". I handed you the last slice smiling. After you finished that slice, I stood up and got some wet tissues to wipe your fingers. The moment I was done, you asked for some wet tissues and I told you your fingers were already wiped. You accepted the answer and sat there for a while before declaring you want to lie down.
I helped you up, then sat down on the bed, lifted your swollen legs onto the bed. You flipped on your side and closed your eyes to rest. I touched your hair and watched your rest for a bit before leaving the room.
Never in my wildest dreams that this scene would haunt me even in my waking hours.
You deteriorated fast that day, by afternoon I knew something was wrong and called for the ambulance, you refused to get on it. My brother arrived back from Singapore then, and even he wasn't able to get you on the ambulance. It took us till midnight before you were wheeled through the emergency door. I stayed by your side the whole night while you physically struggled, I watched as you mentally slipped away from me each hour. By morning, you no longer had your conscious and could not recognize me or my brother, but you still had the ability to recognize our voice. By afternoon, you lost that too.
As I watch you now, you can no longer swallow water nor spit out phlegm. I don't know if you can hear the "I love you's" I whispered in your ear, or feel the kisses I planted in your hair, or notice the tears on your clothes. Mom, I don't know what I'll do when I can no longer feel this warmth emanating from your hand.
You have walked through every pain in my life. I have never felt pain this lonely.
Wrote by Nicole
