Losing My Mother: The Collapse of My Foundation.

Sometimes we lose, and sometimes we gain. But, unfortunately, in situations like this, the loss is much greater than the gain, and all you feel is sorrow, pain, and anger.

It was Monday morning, April 28th, 2014. I got the phone call I feared all these past months. It was my mother’s doctor, “I deeply regret to inform you that your mother has gotten a lung infection in her only lung. In cases like this, it means that the patient will most likely pass away. I strongly advise you to come to the hospital as soon as possible. I am sorry that I have no good news for you.” There I was, standing with a phone in my hand in the bedroom. I was devastated, not knowing what to say. Once I hung up, I was shocked and started crying. I called my husband, explained what was going on and that I had to go to The Netherlands. Even though I was crying while talking to him, there was rationality in our conversation. Then I stopped crying, and I suddenly entered a different state of mind. Making sure I had packed our clothes for at least a week, I texted my cousin, asked her to accompany me to the hospital, and told her my husband couldn’t come immediately. Together with our birds in their cage on our car's back seat, I drove my way from Belgium to The Netherlands. I stayed calm the whole ride. It was as if something had taken over me, probably the adrenaline and survival instincts. When I arrived at my mother’s house, I put everything in my old bedroom and ensured our birds had enough fresh food and water. Then I made my way to the hospital, where my two cousins and mother’s brother and sister-in-law were waiting for me.

The hospital staff had shifted my mother to the intensive care wing, and once I saw her, my stomach turned. She looked different, and she had two tubes up in her nose for breathing support. My mom, the woman I loved so much, who had given me my life, my foundation, she was my first best friend. And now, I am going to have to say goodbye to her? Wait, what? No, this couldn't be happening.

The doctor explained to us how critical her situation was and that they would give her antibiotics. However, the chances of surviving are still minimal because it would take 48 hours for the antibiotics to work, and they didn’t expect her to make that. So it was either waiting for her to pass away or for a miracle that would probably never come. My mother’s sister was on holiday in India; she is the mother of my two cousins who were with me in the hospital. Luckily, my aunt could catch a flight the same day, but she would only reach the following day. It's funny how time can be so crucial in moments like these. Usually, this would seem so soon, but it could be too late in our situation. So many people came to visit my mom and sat next to her on her bed throughout the day. I was so terrified; there was hope, but it was too little, and I could already feel the pain of losing her slowly but surely.

The next morning on Tuesday, April 29th, my cousins and I went to pick up my aunt from the airport, and I called the hospital to see if there was any improvement. We had asked each other that maybe the antibiotics did work? Even though we’re talking about a miracle, it was not impossible. But to our great disappointment, the doctors told me that there was no improvement, that today was going to be her last day and we should come immediately. My aunt asked us on our way back to the hospital if there was any time to take a shower at home, but we all said no, and I will never forget the look on her face. It was at that exact moment when she realized that she had lost her little sister.

I never left my mother’s side, not once. I sat next to her and laid my head on her chest. My aunt asked my mother if she wanted to listen to any music; my mother immediately asked for a song that was very close to her heart. It is a song in Hindi from the Bollywood film industry called “Lag Ja Gale.” Though this song is orchestrated as a love song, many people relate to it when losing a loved one. The song’s lyrics go like this, “Embrace me, for who knows if this beautiful night will ever come again (in this lifetime). Maybe, in this life, we may or may not meet again.”. And now, this song only has one meaning to me, and it brings me back to this exact moment.

She wasn’t allowed to eat or drink anything since the day before, so she only got ice chips. Back then, I never realized how strong the human body and one’s mind could be. My mom kept talking to us, saying that she was at peace and accepted her faith, and she kept calming us down. The woman I was looking at, so strong, still so full of energy, and taking of this whole situation. I am so proud of her, and I count myself incredibly lucky to call myself her daughter.

I rested my head on her chest, listening to her breathing, thinking about how many times I had done this before. Constantly checking if she was still breathing, this time I knew she would stop breathing, and there was nothing I could do. It hit me hard, my mother, she is leaving us, she is leaving me. How will I live without her, without her love, hugs, kisses, and guidance? I started to panic. I couldn’t do this; I couldn’t let her go. This couldn’t be it, and I had to do something! I started crying so hard; all the pain I had been holding in for so long came out. My mother then said, “Oh my sweetheart, how will I leave you like this? You have been through so much already in life and now this. I am so sorry, my darling, but I can’t take it much longer. I am in too much pain.”. My old instinct kicked back in, and I told her that it was okay. I assured her that I would be fine because I have her as my example, and we had been through so much together. And I wouldn’t be alone because I have my husband, who has supported us both during this rollercoaster.

I am thankful for their time together, even though my husband and my mother didn’t know each other for a long time. But they had their own connection, she treated him like a son, and she called him that in her last days. They had their little last conversation while holding hands; it went something like this, “I am leaving my daughter in your hands now. I am sorry that I won’t be there to support you two from the sidelines anymore. I know you are more than capable, and I will keep guiding you whichever way I can. I know my daughter is strong-headed and a handful, but she is a beautiful person, and I know you two love each other so much. I have faith in both of you as a couple and as individuals. You have my blessings.”

“Don’t worry, mother. Your daughter will be fine. She is your daughter. I will be there for her the best way I can, and I promise you that we will be happy. Together with your guidance, we will live our lives, and it is my promise that she will continue her studies and graduate with flying colors.”, as I did five years later.

Not long after that, she was saying her goodbyes to everyone, and we all prayed together. Together with family and friends, we were more or less with 30 people. But once I noticed she was fading away, I started to panic again and screamed for a nurse. The nurse said that there was nothing she could do. I don’t remember saying it out loud, but I kept repeating, please don’t go, please don’t leave me. And then, at her last breath, I started screaming and crying very hard, and many people followed after. I started screaming, “No, mama, come back. Don’t leave me. No. No. No. This is not fair! No!”, then suddenly everything started to move, and I slowly felt myself falling until everything became dark.

The last thing I saw was my mother with a little smile on her face.