I have decided that I will not post anymore after this last post. I have kept myself busy this week after returning to work on Monday to an extremely supportive co-workers, with the hope that slowly life will be back to a normal. A new normal that is, a normal without mom. It can’t ever be the same normal, where I could smell her, poke my nose play fully in her face and watch her laugh. I can’t ever touch her again or hear her call me to come sit with her. I was craving something sweet and went to raid the fridge. I saw apple sauce and without thinking took a cup out. Just when I got the spoon, it hit me that during the last stages, we used to crush pills and give it to mom with apple sauce, a trick hospital nurse showed us. Couple of cups had remained. I miss her. Small things make us miss her more, whether its visiting the Chinese resturant and eating walnut shrimp or making carne asada tacos.
Mom passed away early morning on Monday, November 28th, 2011. We were all with her, when she gasped for last breath and her soul left. The breathing rate had been slowing down a lot and there was no pulse for about an hour before that. She started to have gaps in her breathing which kept on getting bigger and finally, it stopped. Papa checked her heart with his stethoscope which she was still breathing with gaps but there was no beat. After, her last breath, I checked it. There was silence, a loud silence. Islamically, the body is to be buried as soon as possible. Since, we had already planned things, we were able to do the burial same day, later in the afternoon. Mariam, my sister and few other relatives gave mom her final bath. We prayed over her body, the final prayer of burial at the local mosque before proceeding to the cemetery. I got down in the grave along with my brother and two other close relatives to lay the body down. I was the last one out. I made her slant a bit to her right, so that she would face Kaaba in Mecca. She was buried without a coffin, wrapped in white sheets. When I was moving mud around her body, my hand touched her face and could feel her nose. That was the last time I touched my mother. Soon afterwards, she was under piles of mud, on her way to eternity. After, her washing, I saw her at the mortuary and she looked as if she was smiling , a slight smile, peaceful face and at ease. Its been a while since, we saw her without pain.
The support from our friends and family was over whelming. I can’t imagine anything better. Many of mine and Mariam’s friends dropped everything, took the day off work and came over to be by our side. They took care of kids, made arrangements for “A’zza” or the reception for people to meet family and give condolence. The numerous hugs and words of encouragement, teary eyes of these macho friends of mine, it all just over took us. One of my best friends dad saw me at the Masjid, gave me a hug and started crying. I had to console him! I met mothers of four of my closest friends, all of them crying. These people whom I am not related to by blood were crying for my pain. They were crying because they are related to me by faith and by humanity. We do not know how to repay them.
And Thank you all for your support and for sharing our journey.
Many of those who called from all over the world could not believe that mom was no more. They broke into tears and some just cried and hung up. The couldn’t talk. Baji was gone. Who would go around in the middle cold nights with blankets and give out to the people sleeping in the cold on the streets of our home town in India,, who would stop us from killing even a bee, Who is going to make sure, the baby of the girl who lives near our house gets milk, who is going to teach the neighborhood girls. The list goes on and the void gets bigger.
If I was asked to summarize mom’s legacy, it would most certainly be of charity and simplicity. She lived a simple life with minimal needs and wishes. What she had, was for others, she would always be giving. To help was her nature, it would melt her heart to see someone suffer. We have gotten quite a few emails from people who have benefited from this blog. Her disease, her pain became a tool for her to help others. She lives on in our hearts and hearts of many for reasons we would never know. She is her legacy, even in death.
So long Amma… Inshallah will see you in Jannah.
Wassalam Alaikum Warahmatullahi Wabarakatu
(May Peace, Mercy and Blessings of Allah be on you)
Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un (Chapter 2, Verse 156: The Quran)
“Surely we belong to Allah and to Him shall we return.”
Mom passed away. “The eyes send their tears and the heart is saddened, but we do not say anything except that which pleases our Lord.”
Its been more than a week since mom had a sip of water. Her heart rate is as if she is sprinting and breathing has gotten shallower. She sleeps most of the time and morphine is her only respite. It’s impossible to give her anything, since she can’t swallow anymore.
In between her 23+ hours a day sleep, she wakes up and looks. Her eyes tell it all. She is aware and knows whats going on around her. She can’t move or communicate much, she is too weak for that but a tear would roll down her dark sunken eyes..
My sister flew in this morning and my brother is coming in later tonight, Inshallah. For last couple of days moms respiratory rate (the number of breaths a person takes during one minute) has been quite high. In a normal adult, its supposed to be between 12 and 20, while mom’s has gone up to 36. Her breathing has become much shallower. She was diagnosed with pneumonia and now is unable to swallow much which puts us in a rather bad situation. Since, she isn’t able to swallow, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to give her any medicine. She seems tired and sleeps almost all the time (over 20 hours a day). The food and water intake is almost non-existent.
There is not much time left. Last night with eyes closed, she was saying something. I went near her to listen. In semi-comatose stage, she was saying ” La Ilaha Il Allah, Mohammad rasool Allah” : There is no deity except Allah and Mohammad is his Messenger.
There is not much time left.