GOING HOME

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.