Sunday, August 31, 2014

My Auntie

On Friday, August 29, my cousin ZonZon texted me to let me know her mom went to the hospital the night before. She was nauseous and just didn't feel well. Aida said she kept wanting to take her, but Dara kept saying no. By Friday afternoon, the doctors had resuscitated her 14 times. The family finally said that was enough. (I found out from Wayneen later that they can break ribs doing that, and Dara was a tiny woman.) Zon was told that they were going to pull the plug, so she stepped out of the room to call me. She said I was the first person she called because she knew I went through this with my mom. I couldn't believe Dara was going the same way Mom did.

By Saturday morning though, she texted me again, this time asking me to call her. Monet arrived in town and called Zon to tell her, "She's still here! She's fighting!" It was unbelievable. She was amazing everyone around her. She made it all night with just an IV to keep her hydrated. Zon simply passed on to us the information she was given, and who knew after being resuscitated 14 times that her heart would still keep marching on! She felt bad for giving us news that didn't actually happen, but it was totally understandable.

I didn't sleep well, so I just got up before six and went to my lappy. There was an email from Aida, short and to the point. "Hi cyndicot, my mother passed at 0553.  Please tell alan and dad .  Thank you for all the prayers. Love you all." It broke my heart to think of my dear cousins' depth of sorrow, grief, and unexpected loss.

I kne

w her chances were slim, but I had let myself be so hopeful. Tears poured out, and I felt my heart breaking all over again, as if it was my mom all over again. I think it hit me so hard because she was the closest thing I had to her. They were friends from childhood, and for Dara to marry Mom's brother was too good to be true. She was one of THE sweetest, gentlest souls I have ever known. Her laugh, her delicious food, her overwhelming desire to be worthy of belonging to God, giving me the BEST cousins who are more like sisters, and the precious memories I have of her from childhood all came together and punched me in the throat. To lose that caliber of character and personality colored the world harsher and colder, and thoughts and imaginings of Heaven took over my thoughts.

I'll grieve this out on a keyboard whenever I need to process, and I'll try to be grateful for her life instead of focusing on her absence. We will never hear her voice again in this life, eat her wonderful food, or hug her slim, little body, but the greater tragedy would be to never have known her. There will be that One Fine Day though when all that matters is Jesus, and we will gather around Him in wonder, gratitude, and humility. And I wouldn't be surprised if she whips up some Shanghai lumpia for Him. Mmmm...

I love you, Dara.  Kalaguran daka.