Harare – Our journey back home was filled with the confidence of a healthier future. At home we let her get adequate bed rest as suggested....
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Harare – Our journey back home was filled with the confidence of a healthier future.
At home we let her get adequate bed rest as suggested. She patiently took the fluids. Her voice was now audible. With a bit of appetite, she would be herself once again.
Our prayers were all focused on her – they were seemingly finding a needed rejoinder. With a little persuasion, she also ingested some lumps of food.
Her abrupt deterioration was the least of our lofty expectations. Without any signal, another onset of vomit and diarrhoea erupted. She was getting weaker faster. We tried to resuscitate her but all were failing.
Now our only hope was back at the health centre. Our love for her was abundantly clear. But it was not enough to stimulate her.
By @Comic24Derick
We had to seek attention or lose my mother without trying. The guilty would have been excruciating to place into written expressions. Even surging tears to appease blameworthy would have been naught.
And I guess my pen could have dried up before the prologue. The temptation to howl overcame me. Fortunately, no tear dared to slide out. She required urgent attention than my will to wail.
“Mom you don’t seem alright. Are you okay?”
There was a dramatic change in such a short while. Her face transformed to chalk-white. Now she involuntarily clenched her jaws. Her teeth jammed ensnaring her accent. Her tongue could not release any evocative expressions – she attempted but with no laudable progress. Even up to this day we will never know it.
This silence triggered unease – an unfamiliar state I had last experienced the day I saw my father inert in a wooden coffin. It is a rare feeling that entraps you when you know you might be seeing your only parent for the very last moment.
For me, it is an emotion assorted with a profound revulsion for life. For that moment, I was an embodiment of all.
Face of Death
Was this the face of death – if ever it has any? I tried to evade it but just could not. Unfortunately each of us will encounter it one day – a proviso that you will clearly reminiscent in your existence but you are terrified to recount because it will shove back throbbing, haunting memories right back at you.
All this and more engulfed me all at one release. I had to call out for the second time in case she didn’t hear me.
“Mom can you hear me. I am asking if you are okay.”
Still more silence. Only an echo of my fears reverberated inside the crammed room. Our visitors heard my fraught call. In the end I was conversing with myself.
“Mom can you hear me. I am asking if you are okay.”
Still more silence. Only an echo of my fears reverberated inside the crammed room. Our visitors heard my fraught call. In the end I was conversing with myself.
Their vacant stares were too glaring to conceal – they sensed death approaching but never wanted to reveal it. I did not blame them. I respected them for being there for us, for my mother.
“I think we should call an ambulance to take her to hospital,” one of them had suggested.
Yes she was right – but our minds had all gone blank with the mystifying episode. All what we wanted was to take the excruciating pain far away for her. The ambulance confirmed it was coming but their response slow for her, for us.
She was gasping for evasive breath. Her condition just made me melt with piercing emotions. I wanted to help her, to do anything to save her, my only parent for two decades. Uncertainty had colonised my conscience, if I still had any left. I hopped in the same place hoping the emergency van would arrive in time.
If we had thought the service at hospital was abysmal, fate still had more to excoriate our advances. It never took moments to divulge itself. The hospital then said help was forthcoming on condition that they secured fuel. We all had expected it but we chose to relegate this obvious possibility. For how long could we linger on?
My mother could not wait any more. Neither could death. I marched back into her room hoping for a vanishing change. My high anticipation was soon deflated just like before. I just had to try and speak to her once again. This could be the last.
“Mom how are do you feel now?
No answer. “Mom, please just speak to me. It’s me your son, Derick. Please talk to me if you can hear what I am saying.”
Every word I uttered seemed to be the last, percolating her eardrums but the response just faded like her failing body. I then advanced closer to her. She instantly sensed my presence. She promptly lifted her fragile arms and firmly held my hand. She squeezed it harder with all the remnant strength her body.
I could feel her waning strength. Still she applied all her draining vigour. The handclasp meant more. It was loaded with a message more potent than the spoken word. It was her passion, vision and wisdom. As she clenched me tighter my mind went spinning back through the years.
“Always remember my children to stay united as a family no matter what happens,” she would say repeatedly.
Last Goodbye
“I think we should call an ambulance to take her to hospital,” one of them had suggested.
Yes she was right – but our minds had all gone blank with the mystifying episode. All what we wanted was to take the excruciating pain far away for her. The ambulance confirmed it was coming but their response slow for her, for us.
She was gasping for evasive breath. Her condition just made me melt with piercing emotions. I wanted to help her, to do anything to save her, my only parent for two decades. Uncertainty had colonised my conscience, if I still had any left. I hopped in the same place hoping the emergency van would arrive in time.
If we had thought the service at hospital was abysmal, fate still had more to excoriate our advances. It never took moments to divulge itself. The hospital then said help was forthcoming on condition that they secured fuel. We all had expected it but we chose to relegate this obvious possibility. For how long could we linger on?
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| My Mother Worked Diligently Till her Death |
“Mom how are do you feel now?
No answer. “Mom, please just speak to me. It’s me your son, Derick. Please talk to me if you can hear what I am saying.”
Every word I uttered seemed to be the last, percolating her eardrums but the response just faded like her failing body. I then advanced closer to her. She instantly sensed my presence. She promptly lifted her fragile arms and firmly held my hand. She squeezed it harder with all the remnant strength her body.
I could feel her waning strength. Still she applied all her draining vigour. The handclasp meant more. It was loaded with a message more potent than the spoken word. It was her passion, vision and wisdom. As she clenched me tighter my mind went spinning back through the years.
“Always remember my children to stay united as a family no matter what happens,” she would say repeatedly.
Last Goodbye
On that day, that moment her grasp encoded an identical message. She never let me go until all her strength in her had disappeared. Afterwards I felt her grip slipping away bit by bit. She was sliding away from us.
Death was gradually settling in, separating our ties. I knew she was a warrior. She could have done more to rescue herself if she could. But death was beyond her capacity. She fought it until it was triumphant.
After what I had just seen I could not remain in the same room longer. I had to summon that ambulance. As I bolted outside the van came to a halt by the gate. Finally, they had come to help her. There was a glimmer of hope for her, only if she could be revived again. We had a lot of queries for them but there was little any flash viable to dissipate.
After what I had just seen I could not remain in the same room longer. I had to summon that ambulance. As I bolted outside the van came to a halt by the gate. Finally, they had come to help her. There was a glimmer of hope for her, only if she could be revived again. We had a lot of queries for them but there was little any flash viable to dissipate.
While they prepared to bring in the stretcher, I was called back inside the room. I ran back without posing any clarification. The frantic call had a resonance of rout. I made my way into the house again.
Her now static body lay covered in a white cotton bed cover. All present stood stunned, stock-still and all set to set off high pitched rhythmic decibels to confirm her demise and heave off their anguish.
This episode had sapped all their potency. Someway it was swift and dramatic. In short, it never offered us an opportune time to prepare. There was none – it just swooped at us.
This episode had sapped all their potency. Someway it was swift and dramatic. In short, it never offered us an opportune time to prepare. There was none – it just swooped at us.
I made my way straight towards her bed. Gradually I isolated the bed cover to convince myself. Her inert chalk-white eyes addressed mine. She could never be alive now.
I was convinced. I firmly laid my hand beneath her throat – her pulse was very remote – no exhibit of life – her body was tepid, her heartbeat departing yonder. With a downward stroke of my right palm, I gently wiped her eyelids shut restoring her irremediable rank.
Even in death her beauty still stuck with her – only life had evaded her. This was the end of my mother, my relentless combatant who scarified much more in her life for me.
Assuredly I request another life to say mother you are gone. I glanced at everyone in the room – all remained hushed awaiting fate. They all anticipated a miracle – maybe just by a skeletal probability she could make it, to resurrect?
I was convinced. I firmly laid my hand beneath her throat – her pulse was very remote – no exhibit of life – her body was tepid, her heartbeat departing yonder. With a downward stroke of my right palm, I gently wiped her eyelids shut restoring her irremediable rank.
Even in death her beauty still stuck with her – only life had evaded her. This was the end of my mother, my relentless combatant who scarified much more in her life for me.
Assuredly I request another life to say mother you are gone. I glanced at everyone in the room – all remained hushed awaiting fate. They all anticipated a miracle – maybe just by a skeletal probability she could make it, to resurrect?
And they lingered for my authenticity to commence grieving. Senior citizens knew exactly what awaited us, but would remain mute. At last I busted the stillness.
“There is no heartbeat at all. She is gone. I mean she is dead. She will never make it to the hospital in time,” my proclamation was heavy with grief.
We soon drove off to the police station to enunciate our predicament.
“There is no heartbeat at all. She is gone. I mean she is dead. She will never make it to the hospital in time,” my proclamation was heavy with grief.
We soon drove off to the police station to enunciate our predicament.
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