My mother died but family more concerned with anything else.
It is now two weeks since my mother died. I flew from New York to Spain, Madrid only to wait five long hours for the next shuttle plane to Oporto, Portugal. My father sent me $1300 to get an emergency flight to Portugal to see my mother who was dying of an evil spread of tumor roots. Even though she took all tests and treatments the doctors hid from my mother and only told my uncles and aunts she wouldn’t live more than a year or perhaps a little longer. A year ago I traveled back to see her and find her in great health and happiness. We all thought she would make it. We were all in prayers and the pastors with the congregation, but God, I guess he had other plans for her. Ever since she gave her life to God she has been wanting to go to heaven. But she had lots of dreams and had a great desire to live. She fulfilled most of her dreams including buying the brand new car my father now drives and getting her retirement, which was really large to live happy the rest of her life. She’s worked all her entire life to get her benefits and she was unable to enjoy it.
I don’t know if God has a greater reward of her sacrifice in life but I do believe she’ll be fine.
I received the call from my brother in Spain still expecting at least to look into her eyes and tell her how much I loved her. He said “Do you already know?”
“I know what?” My heart already knew she was gone.
I froze entirely. My tears rolled over my face. I looked at the cloudy sky at the airport imagining my mom might be in there somewhere.
When I arrived in Portugal and saw my mother already in a casket all yellow and still I exploded in tears hold on to my father. My aunts cried along with me just before I had the strength to kiss everyone. I was angry at everything, at myself for not being there all the time, for her being so yellow because of the medicine she had to take and the crucifix they put in the hands of my mother – something she hated in life when she learned the truth about being a Christian. My father was angry too but we were helpless to have them remove any catholic rituals. We didn’t want to create any conflicts. They wanted to be respected but didn’t want t respect our ideals nevertheless my mom’s, just because she was being buried with my grandmother in her grave of the Catholic Church. Not even a priest had the time to attend the mass but then he resolved to help the helpless family. He was so much in a hurry he did it mechanically. What was the point? My aunt asked if I like the mass, what I thought about it. “It was . . . interesting!” I said.
It was the greatest shock of my life. It impacted me to see my mother being lowered to the grave and banged fit into a hole right under the ground.
Her sisters screamed of pain and everyone started to cry. But even then, my uncles started to talk with the cemetery men who were burying my mother how the grave needed to be fixed and enlarged. They needed to put walls further back. The casket was still being lowered manually and earth was being thrown on top of it and they were talking about reconstruction!! They could wait until all was done. I wanted to tell them to shut the f..k up really loud! People without respect and no feelings. When they die, I’m gonna talk about reconstruction too! They even had to talk about hole in the ground. It was going to rain that day and water was going to fall inside the grave. What to say about this. What a horrible day in all senses. I cried all night looking at my mother pictures.
I love you mom!