L
livednellaf
Guest
Christmas, Last
December of 2005, a month I dare not forget. Not that I had a celebration, but rather we spent it preparing for a solemn one. I regret that I wasnt able to tell her that I love her.
Mother used to comfort me when I was down, she would always be there to tell me what I should do, to guide me in my daily life. Whether helping me study or helping me do my project. She would be there to do most of it when I was young. Gloomy days she would brighten, rainy days she would hold an umbrella above my head, there to make all things right and easy for me. I thought shed live long to see me and my grandchildren, but on this cruel month of December she passed away. She just got sick, she told me it was nothing, but as days passed by her condition worsened. Dad did everything he could. The doctors could not tell what was wrong with her. My uncles and aunties who arrived told me her time had come. It was unfair; she was my mom: a lady with such a golden heart fading away before my very eyes. I wept and prayed every night hoping God would spare her life. I needed her, and so did my family. We would spend the night wide awake hoping the phone call would never come. As Christmas approached the doctor said she felt better and she would be released after on the day of our Lords birth.
On the night before Christmas we slept with her in the hospital. I couldnt believe that she was sick, her skin flashed with a same radiance she showed at the days I felt I was put down. I was wondering why she didnt speak a lot. She smiled at me sitting at her bed, I thought her illness was just a lie. I closed my eyes to rest as father didnt want me awake the whole night. I was however awakened by an alarm later that night it was not intended to wake me up for 12:00 to scream on top of my lungs Merry Christmas! rather it was intended for my mothers final breath before she started to walk up the stairway to heaven. I cried unceasingly, I lost not only a lady, but I lost my only loving, kind, gentle, supportive, patient and ever caring mother. Her funeral came by the few passing days. I kept on crying but stopped, knowing she would never like seeing me sad. Her burial came soon after the touching speeches given by the people who knew her including me. After that I was left alone I stood by her side knowing she would listen I greeted
Merry Christmas Mom Merry Christmas. My final Christmas with her.
I wrote this story on behalf of the people who had a rough Christmas, not mine
(Please give your comments.)
December of 2005, a month I dare not forget. Not that I had a celebration, but rather we spent it preparing for a solemn one. I regret that I wasnt able to tell her that I love her.
Mother used to comfort me when I was down, she would always be there to tell me what I should do, to guide me in my daily life. Whether helping me study or helping me do my project. She would be there to do most of it when I was young. Gloomy days she would brighten, rainy days she would hold an umbrella above my head, there to make all things right and easy for me. I thought shed live long to see me and my grandchildren, but on this cruel month of December she passed away. She just got sick, she told me it was nothing, but as days passed by her condition worsened. Dad did everything he could. The doctors could not tell what was wrong with her. My uncles and aunties who arrived told me her time had come. It was unfair; she was my mom: a lady with such a golden heart fading away before my very eyes. I wept and prayed every night hoping God would spare her life. I needed her, and so did my family. We would spend the night wide awake hoping the phone call would never come. As Christmas approached the doctor said she felt better and she would be released after on the day of our Lords birth.
On the night before Christmas we slept with her in the hospital. I couldnt believe that she was sick, her skin flashed with a same radiance she showed at the days I felt I was put down. I was wondering why she didnt speak a lot. She smiled at me sitting at her bed, I thought her illness was just a lie. I closed my eyes to rest as father didnt want me awake the whole night. I was however awakened by an alarm later that night it was not intended to wake me up for 12:00 to scream on top of my lungs Merry Christmas! rather it was intended for my mothers final breath before she started to walk up the stairway to heaven. I cried unceasingly, I lost not only a lady, but I lost my only loving, kind, gentle, supportive, patient and ever caring mother. Her funeral came by the few passing days. I kept on crying but stopped, knowing she would never like seeing me sad. Her burial came soon after the touching speeches given by the people who knew her including me. After that I was left alone I stood by her side knowing she would listen I greeted
Merry Christmas Mom Merry Christmas. My final Christmas with her.
I wrote this story on behalf of the people who had a rough Christmas, not mine
(Please give your comments.)
