Faced with the reality of immanent death, a person begins to speak
about the most important and closest to his heart. One may talk about his
precious collections, which fate remains certain not until the collector was diagnosed
with a terminal illness. Another may discuss his funeral down to the last
detail. Being used to a life of order and perfection, even in death, he feels
obligated to be that way. But these are rare. Most of the dying persons talk
about persons and the life-experiences they have shared with one another, the
memories they cherished most with their loved ones.
I remember a patient I visited several times. His name was Mark. He
has a Septal Defect (a hole in his heart). Since his birth, the doctors were
hopeless for his case. They counseled his parents to bring him home and prepare
themselves for his impending death. Mark survived and reached the age of
thirteen. Throughout his life, his parents were advised, twice, by their
doctors to bring him home, for his case was hopeless. When I visited Mark, his
family received, for the fourth time, the same recommendation they had heard in
the past thirteen years: Bring him home and prepare for his death. When I asked
Mark how does he feel after hearing the doctors, with confidence he answered me
"I am excited to go home." He related to me the love and care he had
received from his grandmother and the rest of his family; the joy and laughter
he shared with his sibling in their home. He was eager to go home, to be with
his family, to relish the love they had for him. Mark went back to Bulacan that
day. I never heard news about his status. But one thing was for sure. He was
happy with his family at home. Who knows this may have extended his life, as it
may have in the past when three times they were informed about his death.
When I am about to die, I want to go home too. I want to breathe the
familiar scent of rice fields and the newly plowed rice paddies. I want to
taste the food served to me since my childhood. I want to be surrounded by the
persons I loved most in my life, my family. My family is not perfect. We all
have a share of faults and imperfections of this world. But the love that keeps
us bonded makes the difference. Love enables us to care for another despite our
shortcomings. No one will love me and accept me unconditionally as my family
does to me. At the end of our lives, we shall go home to our family, as we
return to the Father's home.
