Silent Nights With Mother & A Tribute To A Devoted Son
Intimate moments
They were the most intimate moments I spent with my mother. In almost complete darkness. These nights were filled with total silence. And we both understood we would never see each other again. At least not in this present world.
Thank you, brother
And I owed those precious moments to my older brother, who for quite a long time now has been her full-time caregiver. Without his undying devotion our mother would probably not have been around this long. And with the almost 14,000-kilometer distance between us, my visit was never easy. But because of my brother’s loving care I was so grateful to find the chance to feel my mother’s warm body for the last time.
Mother and I parted ways for the final time. And I want to believe there was inner peace between the two of us.
A secret trip
My visit a couple of weeks ago was very brief. And among my eight siblings only three were made aware of it. But, even then, I only informed them of my plan at the last minute. It was very clear that my trip was meant only for my beloved mother.
Mother looked so different when I last saw her in 2014. Back then she was still up and about, and we could spend time reminiscing the old days. As always her ways, she would hold my hand tightly as we sat in silence. Very few words were needed. Occasionally, she would caress my face. A mother’s deep expression of love for her child.
Almost unrecognizable
This time, though, she was almost unrecognizable. She turned 95 this year. And almost nothing but skin and bones. Gone are the twinkle in her eyes. Whatever muscles left in her hands could not even muster enough strength to reach out to me. Much less to caress my face.
But I believed she could still hear my voice. In the total absence of any physical responses, I saw a glimmer of life. And it was more evident in those quiet nights I spent alone with her.
Sneaking in the night
Past midnight when everyone was asleep, I would sneak into the room and sit beside her. With my jet lag, I had no problem staying awake during the night. I would give her a soft kiss and whisper closer in her ear my name. I knew they were not necessary. A mother would always feel the presence of her child.
I would close my eyes while holding her cold hand and imagine the images of my mother when she was very young. It was a coincidence that in the present room where she was lying, it used to be our dining room and kitchen. So, it was so easy to picture my young mother, simply because she was then the queen of the kitchen. Growing up we would always be amazed at how a good cook our mother was. We were never rich, so mother had to be resourceful and creative in preparing healthy food coming from her own backyard garden. And being a green thumb herself, vegetables and fruits were aplenty. This was a huge factor in being able to feed her nine brood.
Her cooking I missed
This was actually the first regret I quietly told my mother. I took her style of cooking for granted; how I wished I paid more attention then. Today, there are still moments when I pine for them. Alas, no one can prepare something that tastes closer to how she did it. This simple thing, a gift handed down from her own mother, would be gone forever with my mother.
I also told her of the fact that her beloved nine children were no longer what and who they used to be. But I guess she knew that already, too. Each child was very close to her heart. Mother is the only person I have known who has lived up to her words, as far as loving all her children equally.
I would like to believe that no one among the nine siblings could say that our mother had been lacking in showing her affection to them, in words as well as in deeds. She raised all of them decently, instilled in them the same values she herself held dear.
A woman of pure heart
Another amazing thing about mother is that I never ever heard her say anything bad about another person. For sure, she would express her dismay and disappointment whenever someone had hurt her feelings. And she would just be philosophical about it. It is human nature, she would say. No matter how much goodness you show to them, you would still be bad to some. It was always more about the fact and what she felt. But she would never stain another person’s name or reputation. Until this day I still do not believe somebody like this exists in this world. If not for the existence of my mother.
And does she know that her beloved nine children have now been distant among each other? Of course. As soon as they became adult our mother never showed any hint of meddling in their private affairs. She was true to the role she had chosen, to be their close confidante. And whatever explanation to be found why they drifted apart from each other, mother would surely know.
What is important to our mother was her belief that all her nine children are good human beings.
The secret we share
And I know what I am talking about. For the first time ever, I am now putting into writing something that no one among my 8 siblings have ever known. I was our mother’s chosen “confessor”. And I made my promise to her – as her wish – that some things I would carry with me to my grave. This included how she honestly felt toward each and every one of the nine.
In those silent nights I spent with her just a couple of weeks ago, we were both aware that there was something so sacred between the two of us. In those moments I was conscious of the fact I was more than just a son. And this is what made those moments so precious. And very heavy. When my mother laid bare all her secrets to me many years ago, my fate was sealed. I was no longer her innocent child, and she was not just a mother to me anymore. There was a very deep spiritual bond between us.
When one is entrusted with secrets it becomes both a privilege and a weight in the heart. As I sat there beside her, I quietly wished I could give them back to her. And magically erase all of them in my memory.
Overwhelming feelings
As the dawn broke, I would whisper to her how much I love her. And how grateful I am for everything she did for me. When it was time for me to ask for her forgiveness once again for whatever heartache I caused her over the years, a little stir was evident. Her breathing became faster, and her eyelids began to twitch. I knew she wanted to open her eyes for me. And to bring her hand forward to caress my face. Her spirit was willing but her very frail body was too weak to afford her that. I would sneak out of the room desperately holding back my tears.
At the end of my short visit, I wanted to give my older brother a hug. But I knew he was not the type of person who easily displayed his emotions. I just uttered a simple thank you, aware that no words were enough to express my appreciation for all his sacrifices.
The unlikeliest hero
My brother is the unlikeliest sibling to end up caring for our mother in her last years. Since we were young, he was not known to profess his affection to our mother publicly – in words or otherwise. He was always the quiet type. And I couldn’t remember my mother raising her angry voice at him. In short, my brother’s existence was always hidden in the background.
This was what I wanted to tell my brother. That he was probably chosen by our mother for the role of a caregiver. Simply because he was never a presumptuous one.
But it would be too much. My brother would not have cherished that romantic notion of being chosen for that very unenviable task, no matter how much love he has for our mother. I saw with my two eyes how difficult it was for him. The deadweight of my mother alone was too much for his diminutive size, let alone the unpleasant reality of cleaning her up. God knows how much sacrifices my brother and his family have been doing all these years. No amount of financial help from the siblings could alleviate this hard fact. And for this reason, my brother has now surpassed all the good deeds the rest of the siblings have ever done for our mother. I hope they are aware of this.
A gift of a sister-in-law
And I would like to make a very special mention of my brother’s wife in all this. She was just 18 when she first became a part of our family. I took her in to stay with our parents when the last of the nine flew out of the nest, so to speak. And it was while in this role that she and my brother ultimately met.
It has been 30 years since, and my sister-in-law remains a loyal “daughter” to my mother. At some point, my mother herself told me that no other women in my late father’s life had done so much sacrifice for him during his last years in life. And she made this known to my two sisters. And, yes, not even my own mother herself. Our father was a difficult character in his healthier years, caring for him when he was sick for years was much more challenging. But my future sister-in-law passed the test with flying colors.
Mother’s greatest gift
So, maybe, this can be a little consolation to my brother upon reading this. He is a very lucky man to have the kind of spouse that he has right now. Perhaps in his most trying times in caring for my mother, it would ease a little to remind himself that our mother’s greatest gift to him was his wife. In those 30 years, surely our mother has been able to impart many of her life’s skills and good character to my devoted sister-in-law.
Go on, my beloved mother
On the last silent night that I spent with my mother was a request so difficult to even think of. I whispered to her that everything was okay now. And that she could move on in great peace, the kind of peace she so much deserves. That it was time for my brother and his wife, and their young family, to deserve a rest as well.
Thank you, my dear brother and my sister-in-law. Goodbye my very beloved mother. Until we meet again.
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