I looked upon to the sky, outside the tented glass, begging god for a miracle as I rounded the corner to see my aunt’s swollen body lying motionless across a hospital bed, tubes in every possible place the doctors could find. I could never imagine that the beauty of child birth could cause such a horrid sight. As I entered through the glass door of her intensive care room, I was filled with the over whelming feelings of guilt. All my life I had been so judgmental of her decisions. In my opinion she could not be a good mother because she had too many children to actually be able to love them all equally. I mean how could you possibly love fifteen kids equally, right? But I was wrong.
About two days later the doctors gave my family the ultimatum of taking my aunt off life support at the possible expense of her life. As the elders of my family stood around mournfully crying, they watched the breathing tube being removed from her throat, their hearts standing still. Everyone squeezed their eyes shut as they anticipated the moment when the tube would reach the last few centimeters of her trachea. The moment when the machine measuring her heart rate would start to beep fast as her heart rate speed up and then make a long flat beep indicating her death. The moment right before the doctors would before the doctors would cut it off and give them their finale hour with her body before it was shipped of the a funeral home. But as the doctor removed the tube the machine head s steady beat as she slowly inhaled and exhaled as though she were a baby taking her first breaths of life.
The joy in the eyes of each one of her fifteen children displayed the love she had for them, individually and as a group. It was dynamic and unwavering, and although she was not a perfect mom, to them she was an angle. And even though that joy was short lived, it was one that proved to be life altering. It brought me to the realization that it’s not always about how much a mother can give you, both monetary and attention wise, that displays their love for you. It’s about the lessons they teach you. The kindness they show towards you. But most importantly it’s their desire to live life for you, and to me the thought of her children running towards her smiling in joy was what kept my aunt alive for those few short hours between life support and her return to god. I think she wanted so desperately to hear her children’s voices that she stayed alive as long as possible. So as I drove towards the metropolitan chapel towards my aunt’s funeral I looked up to the sky, I thank god for allowing each one of my cousins to experience a love like no other, and prayed that when her newborn son Jeremiah became old enough to understand that someone would explain to him that his mother would’ve done anything for him…. Even given her life to save his.