literature

Twelve Days of Christmas

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On the first day of Christmas...
My mom was rushed to the hospital. I just knew it when I woke up that day. Everybody except me, my sister, and the housemaids were left home. I got scared and worried of what was gonna happen to my mom.

The second day of Christmas...
I was in school, blank-minded. It was our Intrams, but my thoughts were not into who was gonna be the winner of game 1 in basketball. I was endlessly thinking of my mother's situation. That same day my dad called. He told me to go home immediately. I didn't know the reason, but I obeyed anyway. I left school without even signing for my attendance.
Our aunt was there at home, crying. Dad told us to come along with her. Our cousin drove us to the hospital. When I got there my sis and I felt more worried. As we came in the elevator, I wondered why the button was pressed to the top floor. I even got more scared.
As we stepped on the top floor, I noticed that no one was there. Then we walked right and saw a room where some of our relatives waited. I was shocked to find out what the room was.

On the third day of Christmas...
I was walking to school with the same emotion. My heart was beating fast. When I walked through the corridor towards the classroom, my friends saw me. They looked at me with curious eyes and asked, "How's your mom?"
Upon hearing them I broke down into tears and held them tight. I didn't care if the people around me saw what I just did. I didn't care if most of my saliva poured onto my hands. I was heartbroken telling them that my mother was now at the Intensive Care Unit. Everyone wept with me.

On the fourth day of Christmas...
I couldn't concentrate in class. I was excused that day so I went straight to the hospital. When I got there I looked at the computer near the information center and saw the date---it was December 13. I kept wondering and thinking about my mother. So many questions entered my mind. Will she be okay? When will this last? What will happen to us?

On the fifth day of Christmas...
Again I was excused from class. At first I really didn't want to cut class but my friend encouraged me and said that my mom needed my presence. So i came back to the hospital for her. The nurse told me that my mother was taken to another room (somewhere in the 2nd floor). I got there and saw her unconscious. My grandma was watching her. I stayed there until the whole afternoon.

On the sixth day of Christmas...
I visited my mom the same time and place. After a few hours, I went outside the room and walked around. I saw people in the corner, waiting for their relatives, and their faces were all frowns. It seemed as if the place were like hell. Everyone were like trapped in their nightmares. Then I asked myself, "Am I at the same ground?"

On the seventh day of Christmas...  
I didn't go to school. I was at home writing poems for my mom. And while doing so I felt my heart sinking. Why was this happening to me?

On the eighth day of Christmas...
I visited my mom on the same floor. It was an afternoon. The doctor said she was unconscious for days now, and she even didn't open her eyes. Again my mind was disturbed. I got confused, in grief, and troubled. I couldn't do anything but to look at my mom lying on her bed sleeping. I guess those were the last days she saw me.

On the ninth day of Christmas...
My mom was taken to the ICU again. My dad decided it because he noticed that she was not given extra care inside an ordinary room. Sadly, there should only be 2 people at a time to visit my mom, and the schedule was strict. The hours that we could spend with her became more limited.

On the tenth day of Christmas...
It was morning when our aunt visited her sister. I was shocked when a priest came inside the room. He opened his bible and started praying in front of my mom. When he held my mother's forehead, my aunt broke down into tears. I gripped my hand tight. I felt like my heart wanted to bleed. Tears struggled my eyes that I couldn't help letting them flow.

On the eleventh day of Christmas...
That evening, the family got together. Finally my brother was able to visit my mom (He was studying for his final exams). My dad advised us to be strong, no matter what the the outcome would be. We couldn't help but cry again. My dad talked to my brother for a while. I knew how painful it was for my brother because he is the youngest in the family and closest to my mother. A relative even told me that when my mom was still fine, my brother kept encouraging my mom, "When I become a doctor, I will take away the tumors in your body and cure you."
I walked upstairs to the topmost of the building. There I saw the beautiful stars and the city lights. I told myself, "Ang ganda dito...ayoko nang bumaba dun.." (It's beautiful in here...I don't wanna go back there anymore...)

On the twelfth day of Christmas...
My High School friends visited me. And again my mother was taken back to the 2nd floor. She was still unconscious. I talked with my friends outside the room about our lives. I missed them so much. Then one of them asked me to drop by the mall to forget the worries for the moment. I agreed and got there with the rest of my friends.
We ate at a fine restaurant and told each other more stories. Little by little I was forgetting my strife. It seemed as if my nightmare was fading. I noticed the families on the other tables were also happy. And all the other members were there. How I wish my family and I could feel the same way.
My friends and I had our pictures taken at a photo studio nearby for a remembrance. When we came back to the store to get our developed pictures, my mobile phone rang. It was my dad. I asked him what was wrong.
Bumalik ka na dito... (Come back here at the hospital...)
Wala na ang mommy mo... (Your mother is gone.)  



It was the end of our happy moments.
My hands shivered and my lips dried up. My entire body grew pale. Then I saw myself wailing.
Everyone at the shop were shocked upon my sudden reaction. Even my friends cried at that time. They held me and rode a taxi to get there fast. Then when I got back to the 2nd floor, I ran to my mom's room but hesitated to open it. When I did anyway, I saw my mom completely wrapped in a white cloth. Her oxygen tubes were not there anymore--they were now dumped in the trashcan.

I felt my heart sank and I could hardy breathe. Everyone didn't stop weeping.

Two days before Christmas, my mom was finally burried. And before she was crimated, we had the last glance of her face. She was wearing her wedding gown. I looked at her peaceful face---but I never cried anymore. I had enough, and my mom didn't deserve me to cry. I know she has done her part---and there was joy already. Her suffering finally ended and it was her time to rest.

At any rate I still thank God because He gave my mom 4 extended years of life despite her suffering of cancer. And I know that this happened because God has a reason for this.

Our Christmas was in agony last year, but I believe He promised us a beautiful one this year.

Merry Christmas, everyone!!!
In Memory of my mom, Maria Lourdes Isaac de Asis
January 26, 1950 - December 21, 2004

Merry Christmas.
© 2005 - 2024 MysticYuna
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acceluncolored's avatar
i dont know what to say, but rest assured that my prayers are with your mom on her death anniversary.