The day Michelle was to be discharged from hospital, Wetini and I and were ushered into a side room, and was told by the doctor and staff, they're not sure how to explain this to us. The cyst on her ovary had evolved into cancer. I took the news as best I could, but I was screaming inside with anguish. It was devastaing to hear such news, let alone bear it.
Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine such a catastrophy. But there it was in black and white,and nothing could calm my shattered pride.
Knowing she had cancer left me feeling downcast and upset. Not knowing what to say , or do. It felt like my whole world had caved in.
Michelle took the news lightly commenting on how it did not bother her. I guess reality had not yet set in. Nevertheless, when she was sent home to die. I could see, and sense the change in her. At times she seemed agitated and distant. Other times bored. The days became long and tedious, with her lying on her bed, day in and day out.
How hard she tried to hide the pain with a feeble smile, but we both knew it was becoming worse.
After the first weeks at home, she returned to hospital to undergo an operation called a 'Stomer' which involves a redirection of the bowl to the upperpart of the body. The surgeon informed us that Michelle had just four months to live, as the cancer had spread to her Liver.
Later on an Oncology specialist related, that it was a rare type of cancer. Only 10 others in the world had contracted it, so the chances of survival were non-existant. Undergoing Chemotherapy would only make matters worse, or kill her.
I felt useless, but knew in a little while she would no longer be with us.
I beared my soul, many times in prayer, asking for a miracle, but only if the Almighty God willed it. Somehow I felt it was not to be. I reckoned my faith had not preceeded a miracle.
With aching hearts the family cared and catered for her needs, as best they could, and took brief intervals whenever they were able.
When I was away doing washing or other things that needed to be done, I would walk about aimlessly drowning in my sorrow, giving no thought to the present or the morrow. I fought hard to wrestle against my passions of grief and heartache.
I had to be strong. To push away negative thoughts, and try not to reveal how I was feeling deep down inside.
We had a baby monitor installed in Michelles room, so the whanau could come to her beck and call. I was quite pleased it had worked out well.
Michelle seemed afraid at times. I percieved the apprehension in her eyes and voice. The frightened look of helplessness and the need of company to help her feel safe. I could understand her fears. I yearned so much to say how much I loved her, but somehow I hesitated and lost the opportunity.
Today, Wednesday, Wetini sisters came to visit Michelle. One sister, Mona,had written a poem especially for her.
***To Dear Michele***
Your sweet gentle ways, your tender smile, has our large family's support for awhile. With our thoughts and prayers to wish you well, this verse to you with love Michelle.
M** is for migthy and modest you are
An inspiration to all who love you by far
I**is for independance for all to see
Such a wonderful person, such dignity
C** is for courage & strength you maintain
Serenity inspired to conceal the pain
H** is for humble so precious, so sweet
A pleasure to be with, a joy to meet
E** is for enjoyment & eager to please
Your brother, sister and those nephews you tease
L** is for loving, in abundance you'll get
From our extra large family, thats a bet
L** is for lenient,that describes you
So sincere & devoted in what ever you do
E** is for endurance, you control so well
Makes us all proud of you Michelle
Let faith and tranquility guide your way, may Gods blessings be upon you everyday. ***Love you heaps***
I dont know what Michelles thoughts were, but that poem described her to a 'T'.
The last week of the fourth month, she returned to hospital via ambulance, to the Oncology Ward, so staff could attend to her afflictions. I could not bear to see her suffer, so I left aunt Mona to accompany her. Michelle remained in the ward, and was administer more morphine to dull the pain. However it put her into a deep sleep. At least then, she was not in agony.
Instead of sleeping in the Whanau (Family) room,we all settled down in the adjacent dorm. We would take turns sitting beside the bed, as there was no space to accommodate everyone. It was there in that white-washed room, she gasped her last breath.
A part of me died...
Oh that I were an angel, and had the wish of mine heart, that I could bring you back somehow. Now I must muster up the strength to overcome this ordeal... I wondered how it must feel to say goodbye to someone you love...To really say goodbye. I couldnt. I walked away a different person. Something inside me changed. All I wanted to do was to cry out in anger, but I felt so numb. I had not experienced anything like it,since her younger sister had died 19 years ago.
All the hurt, the frustration and confusion hit me back in the face. It broke down so many thoughts inside me. Sometimes I was a thousand miles away, other times I was as close as love would allow me.
***At the Going Down of The Sun***
P>We arrived home what seemed like hours, with the hearse carrying the body. Outside everyone was waiting with anticipation and forlorn faces. Things began to get underway as the kuia called us inside the house. The casket was laid down in the living room, then the lid removed. I cast my eyes toward her cold still form, a bit apprehensive of what to expect, but as I glanced upon her face I was overcome by how beautiful and serene her demeaner appeared to me. It was as though she was asleep.
My hear flooded with emotion
"Aue, my child, my child, how can I resume my life when this is all over, and its time to face reality." I felt doomed.
As the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, all high school pupils and teachers said their goodbyes, which at times were very heart wrenching.
The funeral entourage moved on to Taumarunui to the place of her birth. We reached our destination safely though late.
The karanga was still chanted regardless, the wailing of the kuia piercing the stillness of the night like a haunting melody. Then the casket was carried to a place of honour on the marae atea.
During the mihi and wailing, the coffin was uplifted and taken to an empty space between the family mourners.
According to Maori tradition, the funeral lasted for three days. Many people came from all over the country to pay their respects, including her Culture club from former days. They performed the kapahaka (dance ) in honourary tribute.
I will never forget the final day when the lid was put on the casket hiding her mortal body from view foreever. My heartstrings were torn, upheaveled with grief as the bearers laid her down to rest...
Songs and sermons were officiated, then the covering of the plot. The dirt cascading down making dull thudding sounds as it hit the casket.
My child my child...It finally sank in that she had gone forever.
*** Five Years Later***
P>I have been fortunate to live the life I have. I missed a lot and failed a lot, but I have been given much to be grateful for. I will try to keep that in mind as I encounter mishaps again. </P>
<P
>Sometimes I tell myself I am being selfish, like my lot is hard when others are much worse off than me. Isuppose thats not the question I should be asking myself, rather more so, what I can become because of it. It makes sense we can learn from other peoples trials and tribulations.</P>
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P>What I want and need in life is personal. Its soul searching. It fills my inner being with a desire to serve God. To do good all the days of my life. It will take a lot of work, and a lot of faith, but if I endure to the end I can accomplish the kind of person the Lord wants me to be.
