Dealing with My Mother’s Death
It was December 21, 1999 – a grey, downcast Tuesday morning. As I watched, first my grandmother, then my father and brother used a long pair of chopsticks to pick up a piece of bone from the tray filled with bones and ashes, and place it in the urn. My brother handed me the chopsticks, and I too picked up a piece to put into the urn. The handful of relatives who were with us did the same.
Kheok kut. ‘Picking bones’. I might be more fluent in English than in Hokkien, but I can see why this ritual isn’t referred to by its English translation. It somehow makes a traditional act sound macabre and weird. But in Hokkien, it refers to our last act of duty, on the part of my brother, myself and the cousin who was with us; and of love, on that of my older family members, to my mother.
For generations of Chinese before me, this ritual was the act of ‘arranging’ the deceased’s remains in the urn so that they could ‘reassemble’ in the next world. As a Christian, I only wanted to reaffirm my identity as a Chinese and make this last contact with what was left of my mother’s body, now that I could no longer do anything to help that body to overcome her cancer.
My mother was first diagnosed with cancer in November 1997. Sometimes I still can’t believe that two years is all it took for the cancer to kill my mother. The anguish and pain she had to go through, emotionally as well as physically, makes it seem like decades of torture.
I had prayed so much for her recovery, for me to have good old Mummy back, the Mummy who was always happy and strong and singlehandedly held our family and household together. I could never find words that could absolutely describe to God why I wanted, and needed, her to get better. I just did, for obvious reasons. And if they were obvious to me, I was sure they must be obvious to God too. I didn’t just need her to be cured, I needed to know that she and everyone I knew would be fine. I needed someone to reassure me that even if Mummy were to die and even worse things were to happen, we – the people, the souls, not the things around us or even our bodies – would be fine. The bottom line was that I needed peace.
And peace is just what I got. Even though I had hardly said what I needed in as many words, my prayers – which were more like times when I cried my eyes out and showed God all the pain and worry that was in my heart – were answered.
So many people, including my closest relatives, have asked me how I can say that my God answered our prayers if eventually my mother died anyway. It brings to mind something someone told me ages ago: that God always answers prayers, but that doesn’t mean he always says yes. That makes sense to me. And I believe that every answered prayer, whether or not it’s in line with what I want, is what God knows is best for me. It’s not an easy thing to believe, but I know it’s true because I know my God is a real person who would never deliberately hurt me.
The peace I felt after losing my mother, the person I loved most in the world, was too real to have come from my tired and grieving soul, and too deep to have come from the world around me. It was a peace that surrounded me completely – so that even in that difficult moment when I looked at my mother’s remains, I knew I wasn’t just ‘picking bones’ to place into an urn. I was putting my life back into place, a new life without Mummy – but one still filled with joy and hope, because I have a God who continues to take care of me just as he takes care of my mother now. He’s the God who takes the ashes and remains of our grief, and returns to us a life with joy and hope.
Author’s note:
I hope my story will touch you and that you’ll also feel the peace and love that my God has given me, and that you too will know the God I’m speaking of. May he also build something beautiful out of the ashes in your life. Copyright iamnext. May not be used without permission.
I alosd lost my mom 10 yrs. ago this year do to breast cancer. I know she is with her Lord, as she gave her life to Him in my kitchen. I have no fear of what ever happened to her. I am at peace.
hi, I am a hindu from india. my mother died 5 days back. exactly 10 years after my father died. i cud not get along with my brothers hence started to live alone separately after my fathers death, but my mother was the only hope i had in life for reunion of our family. she died waiting for me to comeover for lunch. she had cooked food i liked for me. she wanted to see me married and settled down. i feel helpless, everything seems useless to me right now. lost hope. pray to god that she is blessed and happy with my dad now. dont forget us mom & dad
As I was reading your story, I felt as if you were telling mine. My mother died October 9, 2010. She was also dealing with cancer among other problems. I stayed in constant prayer asking God to do what he knew was best. I also prayed for a peace of mind in dealing with the fact that my mother was dying. I was given that peace of mind and in return I was also able to help my siblings deal with our mother’s death. I thank God everyday for taking care of us all. And I am most thankful for having an even closer relationship with him, our heavenly Father.
I believe God took my mother because she suffered enough, at the hands of my fathers abuse for so long. My mother was diagnosed with cancer and within a month she was gone… This was due to my mother not being able to go to the doctor due to my father not giving her money to take care of herself. She died bitter and afraid, and she was a God fearing woman who prayed tirelessly for her family. When she died I was angry because she was the one who held our family together and now we are left with a selfish drunkard of a father instead of a praying mother/grandmother/great grandmother.
She’s been gone 7 years and our family ( all suposedly Christians) are split up and don’t talk to eachother anymore…
Whatever kept us at peace and together as a family when my mother was alive died with her 7 years ago.
I’m the youngest and I’ve tried to bring the family back together but was unsuccessful… I’ve had to shake the dust off my feet and save my own family as well as myself. I have peace and Jesus is the entire reason for this peace and I can just continue to pray for my sisters and their families… Be blessed.
Hi,
I wasn’t a christian when my mom past in 1998, but she was and dad and other family were, they tried their best to comfort me, but it was to no prevail. I really appreciate what you wrote, I was angry with God, I had nothing to do with him he has taken so many family members, that I couldn’t find peace then all that changed in a moment, my guardian angel came to me in a dream and I gave my life over to God, and all my fears and anger went away, and I too found peace of my mom’s passing.
Hi, just to say that, as a Christian myself, I understand and appreciate what you’ve shared. My mother struggled with leukaemia for 20 months and died from a blood clot and pneumonia relating to her condition. It is good to know God has given such peace to you. He has sustained me powerfully and I am so grateful for that but perhaps I need to pray for more peace, as I do struggle sometimes – more so because of side effects due to operations I have had to have. Your story has reminded me that peace is available to us as a gift from our Heavenly Father. May He bless you for sharing your story in such a gentle and uplifting way. Thank you.