Courage

 “Mamamatay na ba ako?” Mga huling salita ni Daddy noong nasa ICU na sya, bago sya ma-intubate.

Maririnig mo sa boses ng nurse na nagpipigil ng pag-iyak habang ikinu-kwento ang mga huling sandali ni Daddy.

Iba din kasi ang personality nitong si Daddy, sandaling maka-kwentuhan mo lang eh bestfriends na kayo. Maboka, mabola, at charming.

Kaya naman din madalas naloloko at nabibilog. Di mo maintindihan na masyadong tiwala agad sa tao... na kalaunan eh tine-take advantage ang kabaitang iyon.

Sumagot ang nurse na kailangan na talaga syang ma-intubate, pero tumanggi sya. Alam nyang tapos na kapag dumating ka na sa intubation.

Sa mga oras na ito, ano kaya ang tumatakbo sa isip nya? Kung ikaw kaya? Kung ako kaya? How do you face the fact that your time is up? That in just a few moments, you are gone from this earth.

Nung mga oras na sya ay nagiisip-isip, kinontact na si Mommy at sinabi ang sitwasyon. Syempre para sa kahit sinong kaanak, "Gawin nyo lahat. Babayaran namin kahit magkano."

Hindi ko na alam kung gaano katagal ang lahat ng pangyayaring iyon o kung nagkaroon pa ng pagkumbinse ang mga nurse kay Daddy. Itinuloy ng nurse ang paglalahad, "Nandoon po kaming lahat nung sinabi nya, 'Sige, tanggap ko na. Tanggap ko nang mamamatay na ako. Isa-isa kong titingnan yung mga mukha nyo at tatandaan ko, dahil kayo lang ang nakasama, nag-abala at nagmalasakit sa mga oras na nandito ako. Maraming salamat sa pag-asikaso nyo sa akin.'" Dito na hindi napigilan ng nurse ang kanyang pag-iyak. "Sumandal na po sya sa ulunan ng bed at umiyak. Napaiyak na rin po kami dahil naappreciate din po namin na kahit sa ganoong sitwasyon ay nagawa nya pa pong magpasalamat. Tinanong po namin sya kung meron syang gustong makausap sa pamilya nya pero umiling po sya at umayaw."

"Bakit hindi nyo na lang kami tinawagan?" ang tanong ni Mommy. "Sa mga pagkakataon pong ganon, yung hiling po ng pasyente ang sinusunod namin. At sa totoo lang po, sa lahat po ng tinanong namin ng ganyan, lahat po sila ay tumatanggi."

Siguro nga totoo ang sinasabi ng nurse. Siguro nga ay ang nasa isip nila na sa mga huling sandali, ayaw nilang makita sila ng kanilang mahal sa buhay na nahihirapan. O di kaya'y ayaw lang nilang madagdagan pa ang lungkot at pighati na hindi na nila makikita ang mga minamahal. Na nasabi mo na at nakumbinse mo na ang sarili mong tanggap mo nang ika'y mawawala pero sa sandaling makita at makausap mo sila, babalik ka na naman sa kalungkutan at panghihinayang.

'Tanggap ko nang mamatay na ako.' Pano mo nagawa yon, Dad? Saan ka kumuha ng tapang para harapin ang katotohanang iyan? Paano mong natanggap na hindi mo na matatapos ang misyon mong sinimulan para sa mga magsasaka? Paano mong natanggap na hindi mo na makikita ang paglaki ng mga apo mo? Ang pag-graduate ni Iya? Ang kasal ni Mike at May?

Hindi ko mapigilan na maisip din na kung dumating ang oras ko, kaya ko rin kaya yon? May tapang kaya ako na maipapakita pag dumating ang oras na ako'y mawawala na?

Inintubate na nila si Daddy at sa kasamaang palad, hindi nya kinaya. May mga sakit pala siyang itinago din sa amin at yon ang naging dahilan. Hindi nya sinasabi na may iniinda syang mga sakit, na palihim ay nagpapatingin sya sa doctor at may mga iniinom na gamot.

Marami ang naging laban ni Daddy sa buhay nya. Kasama na ang pakikipag-laban para sa kalayaan ng ating bansa. Pero limot na sila. Mga hindi kilala. Mga hindi pwedeng pangalanan. Mga hindi pwedeng bigyan ng parangal. Mga tahimik na lang na namumuhay. Ang regret ko lang ay hindi ko na nalaman nag buong detalye non. Nakaplano na sa akin na alamin lahat ng iyon pero napag-paliban nang napag-paliban dahil na rin sa kabusyhan.

Kaya sa huli, kami na lang ang magpapasalamat sayo. Na ang parangal na lang na mabibigay sayo ay alam mong ang mga anak at apo mo ay maayos na lumaki ang matino ang pumumuhay ngayon. Maraming salamat sa mga sakripisyo mo, Dad. Maraming salamat sa mga pangaral mo. Sa mga pananaw mo sa buhay na shinare mo samin na nakapulutan naman namin ng aral. Happy Birthday, Dad. You will be missed.

***** English *****

Courage

"Am I dying?" These are the last few words of my Dad before being intubated in the ICU.

You can hear from the cracking voice of the nurse, holding back her tears, while narrating the last moments of my Dad. It's one of his unique personalities, you can chat him up as a stranger and by the end of it, you're bestfriends. Jolly, playful, and charming. That's why he's fooled easily and sometimes scammed. Nobody understands why he's very quick to give his trust to a person... who, later on, takes advantage of his kindness.

The nurse told him that in his situation, he really needed to be intubated... but he refused. He knows that if it reached the point where he will be intubated, it's all over. And he won't accept that. At this point of his life, in this time, what is running through his mind? If that was you? If I were him? How does one face the fact that his time is up? That in just a few moments, you are gone from this earth.

In that time he's deep in thought, maybe thinking, 'What is happening?! How did things go wrong, so fast?', the hospital contacted my Mom to inform her of the situation. And of course, what any family would do, "Please do everything to save him. We don't mind the expenses, we will pay any amount."

I am not sure how long the time that passed, what exactly was the situation or if it did take some convincing from the doctors or nurses. The nurse continued, "We were there in his room prepping up when he said, 'Ok, I accept my fate. I accept that I am going to die. Let me look at your faces, I will remember all of you, the only people who was with me, giving care and attention, and maybe a little bit of your affection, during the time I am confined here. Thank you for your care.'" This time, the nurse could no longer hold back her tears, she started crying and continued, "He leaned his head on the bed and we saw tears rolling down his eyes. We started crying with him. We were just sad but amazed that, a person in a situation like this, still had the heart to appreciate us and thank us." She cried more, but briefly. She added, "We asked him, 'Do you want to call your family? Do you wish to speak with someone?' He shook his head and said no."

"But why didn't you just call us?" Mom asked. "In this kind of situation, we always follow the wishes of the patient. And to be honest with you, ma'am

almost all the time, the patient would decline."

Maybe she's right. Maybe that's what's going through their minds, knowing that your life is going to end - that in their last moments, they do not want their loved ones to see that they are suffering; that the last thing they want is a picture in the minds of their loved ones the agony and sadness they are going through. And just maybe, for the last time, be selfish: that they have already convinced themselves and accepted their death but the moment they see and talk to their loved ones, they would just regress into this dark state of loneliness, regret and despair.

'I accept my fate that I am going to die.' How did you do it, Dad? Where did you get the courage to face this truth? How did you accept this knowing that your mission for the farmers is not nearly done? How could you accept this knowing that you will not see your grandchildren grow and blossom?

Iya's graduation? Mike and May's wedding?

And now I could not stop myself from thinking, will I be able to do the same? Will I have the same courage, or at least show a fragment of this courage, when my time is up?

And Dad finally got intubated, but unfortunately, he did not make it. Apparently, he has other illnesses he's not telling any of us. He hid this from us while secretly consulting doctors and taking lots of medicines.

He's been through many battles in his life. Including literal battles, where he fought for the freedom of our country. But they are forgotten. They who are unknown. They who cannot be named. They who cannot be praised and be given awards. They, who after surviving countless battles, chose to live life quitely and peacefully. The only regret I have is not knowing all of this in its entirety. I have already planned this, to have some sort of an interview and documentary. But life throws you a curveball, you get busy, things pile up and the next thing you know, it's too late.

So in the end, we will just be the one thanking you. That the award you will be given is the knowledge that your son, your daughter, and your  grandchildren grew up properly and their lives are just fine. As you have taught us, we're ok with 'just fine'. Not spectacular, not stellar, not extra-ordinary, but 'just fine'. We are OK. So thank you, Dad, for your many sacrifices. Thank you very much for your lectures. Thank you for sharing you point of views in life that we, in turn, gained knowledge from. Happy Birthday, Dad. You will be missed.