At 96, she's not going to make it.
The doctors tell us it could be any day now. We've exhausted everything medical science has to offer, sparing no expenses. We're privileged to have that kind of money. Despite having spent 500k+ CAD, she is dying.
While preparing my travel plans and mourning clothes, I tell myself that it's all part of a bigger plan, something bigger than myself. I don't have all the answers. Maybe the 7th does. I'm just trying my best to make sense of it all.
I check the time. In another hour, the fam is scheduled to have a vid call at the hospital on the other side of the world. It's a last chance to say good-bye, virtually. A selfish part of me wants her to hang on for dear life - please don't go.
But she's in pain and no longer lucid. It breaks my heart seeing a loved one suffer. Deep down, I know it's time to let go.
As I sit with my pain, I remind myself - I'm not the only one.
Covid and the past few years have taught me that pain and suffering don't discriminate. It's an unifying experience regardless of color, class, creed, gender and nationality.
It's part of being human, however uncomfortable it is.
For those in distress or sitting in darkness, know this - you're not alone. I don't have a magic wand to make everything better. But I can offer you a moment of solace.
Wherever you are, I hope it brings you comfort.