Today marks the second month since my mother passed away. I don't know how am I going to write this but I'll try. I'm going to write the chronology before she died because maybe someday, I'm afraid I'll forget about it. So here goes...
My father decided to send my mother to the hospital the second of Raya because she's so weak. When we arrived there, she was put in the ICU. She was there for about 7-8 hours before she can be put in ward. The first week she was in the ward, her health seems to improve a little. She can ate rice porridge. Before this, she couldn't. In the end of the first week, the doctors gave us a shocking news. Apparently my mother has a tumor at her heart. The diameter is 7 cm. It is not cancer, just a tumor. The doctors didn't suggest surgery because of the age factor. But they said they will monitor and gave suitable medicine to ease my mother's illness. My mother was 62 year old. It's kind of a blow for our family you know. The second week, she's not getting better. I couldn't see her because of work but my sister told me her health is deteriorating. I'm really worried and just to pray to Allah to give her good health.
2.50 pm. I got a phone call from the nurse that take care of mother. She asked me to inform all of my siblings to come and see my mother. I asked her "Is it time for her to...?" and she's just say yes. I ended the call and called my second eldest sister. Her workplace is near with the hospital so she can go first. After wrap up everything (I was in the class at that moment), I took my things, asked permission and went straight to the hospital. When I arrived, I couldn't stop my tears from falling. Usually, I stopped myself from crying. But that day, I couldn't. Why? Because her eyes were moving in all directions. I called her. She didn't respond. At all. My eldest sister came and I hugged her and cried. Then, the doctor came. He explained to me that my mother has somewhat struggled with her breathing. So they have to inject morphine to calm her down. And he said sorry. Why? After that, I saw my second eldest sister. She said she came early and the doctor has explained everything to her. Apparently, when the nurse called me, my mother has stopped breathing at that moment but soon recovered after that. Doctor gave a timeline to us. She will be gone whether today or tomorrow. So I Whatsapp-ed everybody about that and my brothers came home. We spent the whole day at the hospital. At night, my mother has fell into a coma.
I went home after Subuh prayer. Slept for a couple of hours before heading back to the hospital. Her condition was still the same. We kept saying syahadah to her ears, hoping that she could say it at least silently. Relatives come and go. Reciting surah Yasin. Read the Quran for her. We siblings take turn taking care of her. But we were all there. 6.00 pm. Me, my father and my second eldest sister decided to go back home first to change our clothes etc. So we left my mother with my brother who wants to go back too but waiting for his wife to finish her prayer. We were not far from the hospital when my brother called my sister. He said my mother has gone. For real. Forever. My heart beats fast. My father made U-turn and we went straight to my mother's ward. My father started crying from the parking lot. There are a lot of things going through my mind at that time. I don't know what to think. When we arrived at the ward, my tears just falling down. I cried so much. She has left me. Left my father. Left my brothers. Left my sisters. Left my nieces. Left the in-laws. Left the world. After a moment of prayer, my father and my sister went back to our home to tidy up our house. We decided to bathe and kafan her at the hospital. Praise to Allah, at least I can bathe her for one last time. After the kafan, my brothers prayed Solat Jenazah for her. I brought my mother's corpse to our house with the hospital van. There's traffic so we arrived a little bit late. There, a lot of my relatives has arrived. They recited Yasin for my mother. My father decided she will be buried after Jumaah Prayer the day after. He wants a lot of people to pray for her. After all the relatives left, only me, my father, my sister and my youngest brother left. We will take turn to take care of my mother's corpse.
Our old neighbors visited us that morning. Reciting surah Yasin for my mother. My father and my brother went to the cemetery to observe the preparation. I saw my brother posted something at his Facebook timeline. A picture of my father staring at the place where they will put my mother's corpse with the caption "Hari ni hari last ayah tidur dengan ibu" (my father said it the night before). How sad is that to hear it from your father? Around 11.30 am, a van from the mosque came to bring my mother's corpse to the mosque. Before I tie her kafan cloth again, my father asked my siblings if they want to kiss mother one last time. I can only touch her. I can't bear to kiss her because I know if I kiss her, I will cry again. I don't know why but I guess it is my ego. They had their Jumaah Prayer and after that, they prayed for my mother. They brought the corpse to the cemetery not far from my house. I can see it from afar only because suddenly, there was heavy rain. Really heavy. But Alhamdulillah, my mother's has safely been buried.
My friends who came to visit my mother's corpse said we siblings are strong because we didn't cry. We do cry but at the same time, we have to accept the fact that she's already gone. I think when my mom's gone, my father is the one who's taking the blow the hardest. 40 years of marriage. He's older yet my mother leave him first. He's still talking about how he met my mother. During their early years as husband and wife. When I think about this, I cry.
I'm actually quite relieved that she's gone. She's been sick for years. 12 years to be exact because of the stroke. And December last year, her health deteriorated. Became worse during the second day of Raya. I'm relieved that she doesn't have to suffer anymore. I just hope and pray to Allah to put her in the highest place in Jannah. Amin.
This is my first death that happened in front of me. Death will come to us eventually. It doesn't matter if you are old, young, sick, healthy. It doesn't matter. It will come to us when the time is up. My father always said he doesn't have enough time left. So do I. So do the people in the world.