Last Saturday evening I received a message from one of my sisters telling me that our mother was rushed to the hospital because she lost consciousness.
The healthcare system here in the Philippines is absolutely abysmal as the ambulance took her and we had to go to several hospitals because they were too full. We were even paying patients and not one that was at the mercy of government medical aid. Yet that is for another topic.
We soon was able to secure a room for her and was closely monitoring her vitals.
24 hours after she lost consciousness she was still in the same state. Her neurologist talked to us and gave the expectations that if she would not wake up in 48 hours she had the possibility of being brain damaged.
I could not believe it. Our image for her was always that of strength and grace. We often joked around that she would outlive us all and yet here she was lying in bed, unresponsive to our calls.
Last Christmas I didn't go home. I was still battling my anxiety and was not leaving my house to go anywhere. I remember my sister saying she was asking for me. Yet still I did not go home.
My mom and I never had the best relationship. In some way I hated her because of what happened to my Pops. In a way I was blaming her for his death that he was so far away from us.
As I grew older we did try to mend the relationship but it never really became the same.
Now that she is gone I keep regretting that I didn't come home to see her.
I'm trying my best to get better Moma. I'm trying to stand on my own two feet again. To drive away the demons in my head and for you to be proud of me.
It hurts so much now. At first I felt numb but the more I think about it, the more my heart aches. I can't stop crying.
I gotta ask why now. I'm trying with all my strength to get better but life keeps sending me curve balls.
I can't understand it. I'm not strong at this point. I want to be strong so you can be proud of me but I can't find it.