My Son's Heart2

Mother's Day

Part Two of Two

Ana arrived early from Baguio today, came home straight from her graveyard shift, her job at a call center. She had a kilo of bacon she ordered from an officemate with her. She cooked breakfast for all of us, and we talked about her brother's condition over the meal. She asked about what Aidan had, and I echoed what the doctors told me.  

She is saddened by the situation, as she always prayed for nothing at all except good health. It is not that the situation is desperate, but more because she feels it is quite unfair that her brother had a condition to deal with yet again. (He had procedures done with his eyes early on.) She is thinking about getting a job in La Union, so that she can be with her brother. She cried a bit, while playing with the blankets, in bed trying to  catch a bit of sleep. Then she tucked her head in between my armpits, much like a newborn puppy does with its mother. 

When I read the results of Aidan's 2decho, I was at first, numb. I had to read through it all, again and again, as if I would understand the medical terms encoded. Perhaps I was struggling to get something positive below the phrase, 'congenital heart disease'. I seemed not to, because the word 'heart' terrified me. I immediately told a close friend, and she prompted me to go home to my son. The  conversations I had with the doctors, our family's and Aidan's cardio shed light on what I attempted to comprehend earlier. Both were positive about the prognosis, and handled an absentee-mother so patiently. Calls and messages from my siblings were almost one after the other, asking, and then encouraging, all spoke of their love. They were concerned, but they reminded me of prayers. 

Tonight, I feel focused. I understand what Aidan's condition is. I am not in panic any longer; worried, yes, more than usual. But I am ready to take on whatever with my son, for my son. Aidan has shown us no fear, his jokes are as sharp as ever, his sarcasm still over the top, and is extremely positive. In fact, he shows no indication of 'having a condition'. Ana sprung from her sadness to the same positivity that her brother infected us with. I spent the day in and out of bed, ate plenty with these two amazing people, just talking and being in the moment. 

You know the times when we ask God for signs, when we have unanswered questions? I did ask Him today. His answer came in the form of a 17-year-old laying in bed by my two feet, speaking so fast as usual like he is running after his thoughts, and a 23-year-old woman beside me, under the blankets, smelling my armpits.  The bed was barely big enough for the three of us, but what we have among us, is more than enough  to keep us together. 

Mother's Day is going to be in a few days, our calendar tells us. My mother's day is today. And tommorrow. And the next. To forever.