Twenty five past eleven
Six months had gone by and it was the third day into the seventh month. It was uncertain times. Everything was in a blur, so hazy, difficult to decide what to do next.
I was awake the whole night and by ten in the morning I was drowsy with sleep. Close to thirty friends and relatives who stood vigil the night asked me to get some sleep. Yet, though the body yearned for rest the heart knew that it wasn’t to be.
The end was in sight. My heart knew it. The first sign came around ten-thirty. Her heart stopped. There was a scramble around me. As suddenly as it happened, she regained consciousness. A short time later, it happened again. And again, she regained consciousness. As the clock wound past eleven, I hold her frail body, which was almost reduced to a mere skeleton, in an embrace which turned out to be our last.
“Dear, please go home!” Not easy words, but words that must be said. “Don’t worry about our daughters, I’ll take good care of them. God will take care of us!”
I thought there was a flicker in her eyes, or may be it was just my imagination playing tricks with me. I leaned closer to her ears and whispered, “We’ll always love you!”
Within seconds, she closed her eyes and entered into a realm where none of us have ever set foot before. That was 11:25 am, Saturday, October 3, 2009.
On Wednesday, October 3, 2012 – the third anniversary of her home-going, we are going to celebrate the life of my “angel wife” once more as we unveil her memorial stone. We covet your prayerful support.