Wednesday 22 November 2017

Labor Pain
By: Rey Jorca Supranes

Oh the pain, I was told.
'twas painstakingly unbearable.
It must have been part of the curse
As descendants of Eve.

Most must have wondered,
What sins have been committed to bear
the unbearable; to be sculpted as a vehicle
Of the cracking of dawn.

A loud scream is expected to rock,
A breath taking hard push smoothens,
Tears welling in the eyes hope to open
The very narrow pathway.

Finally, the bell tolls.
So loud to awaken
The numb senses.
The joy it brings is worth the pain,
For a new life is given.
HERS WAS NOT A SAD STORY
Rey Jorca Supranes


Many believe hers was a sad story. I couldn't blame them. I guess it is really sad to die at the age of 62. Endured symptoms and pains of an illness she didn't believe she had for more than three years. Different hospitals served as her sanctuary. Laboratory works that entail needles pricking her tired veins. Dialysis machine filtering her blood twice a week to remove waste and excess water as her kidney lost its function.

The diagnosis of chronic renal failure averted her plans to be with her son and daughter in Canada and England respectively.

An absentee in her duties and sessions that required her presence as one of the mandated barangay council officers because her bones had become fragile rendering her not to be mobile and eventually bed ridden.

Her positive disposition was slowly waning. How can you maintain a good outlook in life when you feel disabled and in constant pain? 

Pain was so eloquent. So articulate in expressing and demanding to be felt indicative in her screams and cry. If only I could have my fair share of even 1/4 of her agony, I would take it. But pain is so territorial and selfish. It would only want to distress our Nanay Nancy.

We wished we could relate to her pain but we could only fathom the pain she felt expressed on the grimace on her face and a scream at the top of her lungs but its depths were beyond our understanding.

My sister and I were fortunate to be given time to take care of Nanay. For one month, we took our shields and engaged in an incredible and challenging journey along with my father, my sister's husband, Leon, their kids, Liane and Maegan, Aunt Totong, cousin Janjan, household help Gigi, family driver Jhay-R. Nanay's sisters, nieces and nephews constantly offered support in times we needed them most.

Even if we were embarking upon a sea of uncertainties, we continuously fought the battle until her doctors told us to let down our shields and accept that we are about to lose.

We thought holding on and hanging in there were signs of great strength but we were wrong. We realized we're becoming selfish ignoring Nanay's wish for us to let go. It was the hardest thing to do and yet we gathered our courage and accepted something we don't want to happen.

Two weeks after my sister and her family had left for England, it was time for me to go back to Canada. I left Nanay in the ICU with ventilator tubes in her mouth and several needles on her arms battling to survive. It was like a heavy dramatic scene from a movie. I had to leave with a heavy heart but before leaving I needed to leave my parting words by whispering on her ear so she could hear me and she just managed to tilt her head on the other side and a little struggle to wrestle  her neck as she tried to reach my hand but she couldn't; eyes widely opened as if conveying a pleading message, "Please don't go." A heavily charged scene with your father and aunt by your side crying and feeling your pain; nursing staff, visibly moved by what they were witnessing, with tears welling in their eyes.

It was perpetual sadness. It was huge.

It was the last time I saw Nanay alive. I never had the chance to talk with her after that. I got to see her again but she was already peacefully laying in a coffin.

I was almost swayed to believe hers was a sad story until I heard beautiful, truthful, honest and respectful testimonies about her during the necrological service and words personally conveyed by other people after the funeral.

Words that have voice expressing what she had done in her lifetime that left a tremendous impact in other people's lives.

Nanay was best remembered for her kindness. In fact, kindness became her religion.

How could it be a sad story when those acts of kindness continue to put out a smile on their faces remembering when problems overwhelmed their lives, Nanay was the symbol of their hope.

How could it be a sad story when Nanay was best remembered she gave without hesitation worthy to emulate on how to pay it forward.

How could it be a sad story when Nanay's choice to be kind made a defining difference between "us and ourselves" and "us and others."

How could it be a sad story when Nanay's kindness propelled her to greatness.

Nanay Nancy had left something of herself when she left us behind, her "infinite kindness" that continues to resonate in our hearts.

The moment I realized hers was not a sad story at all, I felt Nanay Nancy was alive!