Papang's Death was a Spiritual Journey

It was late night of January 2 when my father was breathing differently. He was complaining of a severe abdominal pain. Our family decided to rush him to Zamboanga, where better medical treatments were hoped. My sister Daday arranged the ambulance availability, while I facilitated his medication at the ER of the provincial hospital. The attending physician was so worried, and issued referral for the immediate transportation of my father to Zamboanga Medical Center.

I had no intention of going with my mother and our eldest Toti. There was a force that moved me to accompany them. While inside the moving ambulance, I started praying loudly, and tears start to fall from my eyes. It was a prayer like a child asking for a snow in a desert. I was holding my father's hand, and witnessed how he went through the painful sensations as the car negotiated with the bumpy road. I still remember how he was losing his hopes that we could get to the city. The ambulance went on tracking the winding road on that dawn of January 3. "There's no hope," my father kept on saying. "We could not arrive at the hospital alive," he added. But my prayer has gone even persistent. The situation shed light on my being helpless without God. We finally arrived at the ZMC. My father was given medical attention after some interviews and his X - ray. Our mother could not help us at the time as she almost fainted due to the trip. She looked for a lodging house where she could have some rest. Meanwhile, my brother and I were busy with purchasing medicines. I heard papang cried, "treat me now!" An intravenous medication was treated on him. Through the course of either standing or walking, my spirit was attuned to the Almighty Father. I also asked for the intercession of the Blessed Virgin. Papang was finally admitted at past 10 am to a ward, where he was situated on a hallway. I worked on his Philhealth papers as my brother watched over him. I had no one to turn to but to God. I could feel the pain on my feet, but the thought that I was doing all those for my papang brought me consolation and strength. When I got back to where my father was placed, I said to my brother that he did not deserve this accommodation. We both just cried, since at the moment, we could not afford an expensive hospital.

As soon as my sister Daday arrived, she planned for the transfer of my father to a private hospital. I was back home at the time, when papang was referred to Zamboanga Doctors Hospital. My sister was relentless with this effort, and she got a great help from David Dar, who facilitated their transfer. Papang was admitted to ZDH on the night of the 4th of January. I heard that he was diagnosed and more accurate findings were known. Our eldest messaged me to rush to the hospital, as my father's voice was alarming already. He informed me that the doctor suggested that he be sent home, as his illness would not be cured by operation anymore. My heart was pounding like I could not breath. I traveled back to the city on the night of the 5th of January. My brother kept on asking where was I, since papang's situation was getting worse. I thought, papang would not survive that time. I said to myself, "pang, please wait for me." I again prayed desperately while the bus run through the highway. I took a habal-habal ride to get to the hospital. Once I got there, I saw papang catching up his breath, so helpless and very weak. I embraced him and talked to him and told him that I love him very much. He was a fighter and he struggled more to meet our youngest Dyan, who would be flying to Zamboanga from Cebu the next day. Indeed, Dyan still caught him still surviving. My father could hardly recognize Dyan but there were times that he was responding. Dyan could not help but cry being into such situation. As soon as we settled the bills, the ambulance that would ferry us back home was ready, after Daday facilitated the transportation. The experience on the way to the city came back to us as we were heading home, except that papang this time, could not talk clearly. He just showed on his face the pain he felt, whenever the ambulance crossed a bumpy road. My prayers were for the pain to be eased. My father was truly having a hard day. At around 3 pm, we finally arrived at the provincial hospital in Sanito. Since he arrived here, he started to be in a sleeping mode. Still, he was catching up his breath.

January 7, 2012: Papang took his last breath.

At around 9:00 am, mamang asked me to pray for papang. I was hesitant a bit, for the prayer would be that of "letting go" tone. How could I resist my mamang? I positioned my mouth nearest to his left ear. I instructed him to pray with me. We prayed Psalm 23. As I started saying the prayer, my eyes were filled with so much tears. I could hardly say the words, but I kept on telling him to hold on to Jesus, the Good Shepherd. A shirt, which I wiped on my tears became wet with my tears. The moment became a spiritual travel on my part. I totally let go of my dearest papang to the Good Lord. Mamang noticed a radiance on my father's face as we proceeded with the prayer. Mamang requested for a priest, so I called up kuya Manny. Papang suddenly sounded off when I called up kuya Manny. They came at around 11 am. Fr. Dodong, who anointed papang last year, prayed over him again. He re-anointed my father with oil and even talked to my papang while touching his face. At past 6 pm, Dyan, our youngest ask that we pray the Holy Rosary. I lead the prayer with the intention of following the most Holy Will of the Almighty God. We said the rosary with joyful mysteries and the Litany to the Blessed Virgin. Then we took our dinner. Only me and mamang were left in the room. Papang was breathing hardly. There were times when he stopped breathing for 20 seconds and then breathed again. He was like sleeping, but his breath became slower and slower until he ceased to breath. I touched his breast to sense if there was beating. There was none anymore; he also stopped breathing. He died at 9 pm. I told my mother with ease that papang had no heartbeat and that he already had his last breath. I don't know what force there was that kept me strong. I managed to call everyone to come to the hospital. Mamang cried like the world fell down on her and so I approached and consoled her. When everyone was around, we all prayed the Lord's prayer with the line, "your will be done on earth as in heaven..."

Papang's death was not only his personal journey but also our constant conversation with the Divine. Through it all, everyone of us sought the aid of the saints and the Blessed Mother. Through it all, we believed that God's will comforted us each day.

Thanks to the Creator that we have been gifted with a father, worth our love, admiration and life.