Mary Ann and Her Pain

I woke up to missed calls and a text message from Mary Ann, my true friend, confidante, sister and in many ways, my source of strength and hope. For two decades this woman is like the sun and the stars, I know she is there despite us not seeing each other often. Constancy. She gives me that, and I know that whatever happens, whatever decision I make which may or may not be the wisest, she will find meaning to all that because she knows me to the core.

I returned her call, and she was distraught. I could barely make sense of what she was saying in between deep sobs, but I knew. Emma, her sister, and my inaanak (with her Johnny) has passed, after a couple of years' battle with breast cancer. We were just talking about her, Mary Ann and I, couple of days back. Mary Ann told me that after relief from remission, the cancer is back. In reply, I told her to be ready for the worst, from my experience when cancer decides to invade a body once again, it is with vengeance. She pleaded that I pray for her. I promised I would. 

Emma is Mary Ann's only sister and closest sibling. She took care of Emma the best way she could. Emma, who was working abroad, was asked by Mary Ann to come home because she would get better care here. When she first had it, I went to visit Emma in the hospital quietly. Mary Ann, with her funny and witty disposition is a very private person in truth, and I am one of those she trusts to be aware of her pain and her worries. I remember walking in a daze to Emma's room, heart pounding, anxious as to what I would see, what I would say. Johnny, Emma's husband, welcomed me to her room, tears threatening to fall, at the sight of me. Emma was in bed, thinner than usual, but seemed normal and even smiled. She was a fighter, Emma, and she did not intend to give up without a fight. She did not say that, but her eyes told me. I hugged her, told her she will always, always be in my prayers, and to eat plenty so she can win over the chemo and this monster called cancer. It was a short visit, small talk was not in the agenda. That would have been shameful. 

When Papa passed, I started to question God. We were, as it was already at that time, struggling to keep it together as a family after losing everything. Yet God, in His comedic way of making it more than just a struggle, took Papa away from us. I asked God then, 'What else? What's next? You seem to be not satisfied with us crawling on the ground for scraps, so tell me, what do You plan to do next?' Those were dark days. I did not dignify God's ways by shedding a tear. I did not grieve. I kept it all in, even up to today. But through the years, God showed me in every little thing His goodness, perhaps taking His time to make me understand the wisdom in His thoughts. I cry every now and then, I talk to Papa. I ask him to show me the way, wherever I was supposed to go. God is good, indeed, all the time. I have asked for forgiveness for my questions, and moved on from Papa's death, not without his memory, not without the ache gnawing at my heart each day that I live, without Papa. A good friend of mine, Michael told me, 'If you continue to ask these why-questions, you do not honor your father's life, his love for you. That is not the way to do it, Christianne.' He is right. 

Over the phone, I told Mary Ann to take a sedative as she is hypertensive. I told her to take care of herself for her children, her family. Emma would not want her to be weakened by her death, I know that for sure. When I told her that, she took a deep breath and said, 'ok, I have to say bye for now, I need to buy Emma her clothes for the wake.' That was not thinking straight, it was pausing for a while to do what has to be done for Emma. There is plenty of time to grieve, years and years. For now, everyone in her family will have to celebrate Emma's life while she is still here, physically. From the heavens, I am certain Emma is sad, that she left her family at a very young age. But see, there is no more pain in God's dwelling place, just peace. That, I believe in as much. 

My love for you, Mary Ann, is beyond words. And I will be one among many who will see you through this. I promise. 

Mary Ann Dulay Dulatre