The doctors sent my mother home to die. As a fifteen-year survivor of breast cancer, she had suffered two heart attacks when advanced cancer was found in her lung. The doctor told me sadly, "She has a few days, maybe a week. Her heart is weak and unstable. "Mom had struggled to raise three daughters while holding a full-time job, yet worked hard to maintain a warm home for her family. My plan for Mom's final days was simple: she would live with love, and die with grace.
I took mother to my home, small but comfortable, which was a heaven to four cats and a dog. The animals had the run of my house. We equipped the bedroom with an electric hospital bed and an oxygen machine, which frightened the cats. I'd moved their furniture and the cats were annoyed. The dog, on the other hand, an immature dog with bad habits, was excited by all the changes in the house. He jumped up, barking. He is Otto who was not afraid of the hospital bed, the oxygen machine or the medical smells. Nor was he afraid of the weak woman who had scolded him. Otto jumped onto the foot of Mom's hospital bed, and stayed. With the exception of eating and using the litter box, Otto never left Mom's room.
Days passed and Mom started to rally. "Not unusual," I was told, "a rally is often a sign of imminent death(回光返照)" I was heart-broken. But Otto would not give her up so easily. He used her improved condition to reposition himself from the foot of her bed to her side. Her thin fingers found his soft coat. He leaned into her body, as if holding tight the strings of her will to live. Though weak, she petted the dog and would not allowed me to take him. Days turned into weeks and Mom continued to fight.
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Once, after the nurses had gone for the day, I heard the sound of Mom's voice coming from her room. ……
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Three years later, Mom together with Otto is still here, medicines and nurses long gone.……
