In three days, it will be my husband’s 15th death anniversary. Regretfully, he’s not here to read this but still, I would like to pay tribute to one who touched my life in a special way.
I was with him till he breathed his last. It was past 2 o’clock Saturday afternoon. Five hours earlier he was wheeled back to the emergency unit of Cebu Doctor’s Hospital after he complained of shortness of breath and high fever. It was only three days ago that we got out from the same hospital and now we were back again in the familiar corridors. He had been diagnosed with multiple myelosis or cancer of the bone marrow.
We were both catching up on sleep after a disturbing night. Hunger woke me up. I realized we both didn’t have lunch yet. I whispered softly, “Dong, let’s eat.” He didn’t move. And in the next 30 minutes, the “code blue” alert was on and all medical hands and equipment were on him. But he would never woke up.
He actually went into a deep coma while I was resting, as if letting me gain the energy I would need to face the emotional strain I would carry for the next days, weeks, months and years as a solo parent. And during those minutes that he was vacillating between life and death, I took pity on his sagging body and the pain I knew he was feeling from the pressure of the hands trying to revive him. It was clear he was fighting for dear life. The doctors were amazed at how he was battling it out despite the vital signs showing hopelessness.
My husband, throughout his five-year ordeal with cancer, had always shown grace under pain, patience under stress and humility more than self-pity. I knew he wouldn’t let go of life that easily. He would want to fight death for us—his family. But with all the battering he was getting from the resuscitation efforts of the doctors, I knew he would end up with more pain, a “vegetable” if he ever survived. So I made the hardest decision of my life.
I put my mouth near his ears and whispered love words to him. I told him God will take care of us; and that it would do him well to rest from all the pain and take God’s hand instead. I felt his hands squeezing mine even though his eyes were still closed and his face pale and unmoving. It was as if he was trying to tell me something. I hushed him and said “It’s OK. We will love you forever. I will love you with all my heart. From Heaven, you can very well watch over us. Don’t worry. We will survive through your memory as a dear father, my loving husband.” And then his hand relaxed. He was gone.
My dear Dodong (Conrado Dabilbil Sarmiento Jr.) lost his battle with cancer, and losing him deeply saddened me. Yet, looking back, I rejoice now as I realize that he hadn’t really lost thebattle. He had won it hands down decisively.
Three years before his death, he had given his life to Jesus by serving as an Extraordinary Lay Minister despite his sunken body and failing health. Yet with his departure from the world, he received his reward which is better by far than leaving us – it is to be with the Lord (Philippines 1:23).
Dodong was a quiet man but he also thrived in the noise and joy of loved ones and friends around him. He never chose his friends. The large crowd of sympathizers during his burial was a testament of his kind and peaceful person. A cigarette vendor was grieving at the same moment as high officials of his company.
He was four months shy from his 39th birthday but beyond looking at the year he was born and the year he died, I’m savoring the memory of the life he lived well – the “dash” between the years 1957-1996 written on his epitaph. It was how he lived those years— as an obedient son, a responsible father, a protective and sweet husband, and a loyal friend. He may not have been a social being like me but his gentle and firm ways had a way of taming the free spirit in me that I didn’t dare buck at what he said. I ended up obeying him. I guess that’s what real love is.
Most importantly, he punctuated the last years of his life by his fruitful work for Christ. The crucial issue was not living or dying. It was keeping his faithful testimony of God’s love even in the midst of painful cancer; that instead of burying himself in self-pity and despair, he strove to use his physical oppression to bring honor to Jesus by dropping all his vices and doing work for the church. This has become my inspiration as I spend my time serving God through my mission work today.
Our kids have grown into responsible individuals. Thank you, Dong for these three beautiful children. Our 10 years of marital bliss were not for naught. Our solid relationship prepared me to take on the strength of character and integrity you had—one of the many lessons in life I’ve gained.
Indeed, you lived God’s words that “we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” (Romans 5:3-5).
Thank you for your example of dignity in suffering and legacy of love.