MY MOM WASN'T COUNTING COINS
Mommy's second stroke last November has especially affected the motor skills on the right side of her body.
In a moment of quiet with her yesterday, I was racking up my mind for any activity that could exercise Mommy's right hand, which has lost almost all of its strength and force.
The idea came. I had several coins in my wallet. I put them down on the table and asked Mommy to build a tower using only her right hand.
A task we all commonly take for granted has become a struggle in front of my eyes. Mommy was trying her best but would falter from time to time just trying to put one coin on top of another.
This woman's right hand which has nursed me and fed me when I was young, has held books for me to read, has typed numerous reports and assignments for me to submit, has held my forehead countless times to check on whether I had a fever when I was small, has touched my hand in so many instances to show love...
This hand that has held my own to guide it in building my own towers when I was but a toddler... this hand has suddenly been rendered helpless and useless, without any strength or force.
I experienced a brief moment of extreme sadness and pity for her, and then I stopped myself to accept what is now beyond both our control and to thank God for the biggest blessing of the moment - that she survived her second stroke and is still alive to celebrate another Mother's Day with us today.
Mommy may have lost the strength and force of her hand. However, her body has lost neither the strength nor the force of its motherly heart. It has even become fiercer and more powerful through the years, more protective, and gentler, even though it has returned in these days to the most basic show of care and thoughtfulness.
As I ate lunch solo after her short exercise (She and Dad ate a late breakfast and were still full and did not want to eat lunch yet), Mom struggled to instruct her "Yaya" to get "Tu...tu...tu...tu-big." It took forever for the word to complete itself in her mouth.
When the glass of water finally came and was being given to her by Yaya, she no longer said a word but instead, with her eyes and her lips, motioned for the glass of water to be given to me.
Thank you, Ma. Thank you for the glass of water I did not even realize I wanted. Thank you for the unfailing care and thoughtfulness, despite the failure of your body.
Thank you for the tower of your motherly love that has stood tall and unwavering, enduring, and proud.
Happy Mother's Day!