The Longest Trip Ever: A Tribute To My Mom (Part 1: Mom and Planes)

I am sitting now aboard this plane looking out at the window 40000 feet above the air, looking at the crisp, clean sky and feeling more at ease. I hope this is the start of the burden being lifted. I’m seeing a bright light and had a glimpse of the silver lining behind that horizon. I cannot help but think to myself that she is at peace now. This is where she is, up in the beautiful clouds, with such quiet peace and serenity. Just never-ever ending blue skies, white clouds and fulfillment.

I flew with her once before. It was April of last year, she was nervous and I held her hand, as it was her first time to fly trans-Pacific. Filled with anxiety but armed with a silent confidence that her youngest daughter was beside her, she smiled through bouts of being excited and being afraid. I told her that it would all be alright in the end. It was.

I remember the stress of coming from the Manila airport, with the ultra congested highway on a hot summer day, on our way in. We were rushing as we were 2 hours into check-in. A dear friend drove us from her house into the airport, and the first glitch was the pullout handle on my mom’s purple bag I had bought only 3 days ago, broke. We couldn’t push it in back in the bag. It was not an expensive suitcase, we bought is because she loved the color. Think Christmas time puto bumbong. So there we were, she was stressed going to fly for the first time, and the very second we left the car, her bag broke. I told her that it would be alright. We switched bags and I said I would handle her carry-on from then on. It was a bot of a hassle having to explain in Manila and in Vancouver to everyone looking to use the extra space of the overhead compartment I was inadvertently occupying, that I couldn’t move the bag around as the handle wouldn’t go back in. There were probably 400 passengers in coach in that 777, and I had to explain my situation to everyone who wanted to use the space. Just a bit funny when I remember it now. And I wonder, being obsessed with the wonder of statistics, how many people would have to go through that situation with a broken luggage? I hope not many.

We went through the never-ending queue to baggage check-in and immigration and numerous security checkpoints. By the time we reached the gate, she was already tired. Flying wasn’t always so fab. I told her my secret comfort, just to use when leaving the Manila airport -- always bring a fresh shirt. By the time you had finished everything that you had to do, you were stressed and sweat dripping from your brows, and a fresh new change of clothes and washing your face makes it all reset to being relaxed. The first thing I taught my mom was the console on the PAL aircraft. As you all know, mom is a gamer. She probably has more facebook friends than me, and they all play Candy Crush. My mom has constantly asked for lives from all my friends, particularly DEM, who are all over the word. She would sometimes email me at 2am just to send her a ticket so she can move on to the next stage. I, of course, being inadequate when it comes to seeing patterns and bursting candies, had resigned at Level 38. I now relied on my dear friends to continue support her Candy Crush ways as she progressed level by level. It is funny to recall that she kept tabs with all my best friends in high school and they have carried her forward. When we would Skype, she would tell me, “Can you please tell your friends to not forget to give me a ticket ‘cause I can’t go ahead?”. Hahaha. Then I reminded her that some of us are probably sleeping as we are in different time zones. I’m telling you now, it was significant. She will all remember you guys for that. She just couldn’t get over somebody being at Level 240, or something like that, and it was her goal. So, yes she was a gamer. And I introduced her to that, as well as the console on the aircraft. She played Tetris aboard that 13-hour flight. She also watched a couple of Pinoy movies and she was smiling. I made sure I chose PAL so it would be an easier and shorter flight for her. She slept and loved the Pinoy hospitality and the Pinoy food on board. I think we had adobo and eggs for breakfast.

She was a bit stressed and anxious because 2 weeks before, we sent her for an endoscopy test. She had constant acid pain in her stomach and we thought wise to have it checked out before we left. It was bad news. The doctor had found some stomach ulcers and small black spots, that were, as it was stated, “looked like cancer” but not for sure. I refused to believe that biopsy result and wondered again about statistics, how many of these test results actually come out wrong? The way it was worded, was it was consistent with the structure of those cells, but not confirmed. It had something to do with how the epithelial cells were aligned. I worked on nanotechnologies in my life before, and at this point I wondered, how odd it is in this life that in our infinite knowledge and experience, be brought down by a few stray cells? We deliberated and talked about it as a family. We knew she was 62, but would be scared to go under the knife with an unsure diagnosis. What if it is the surgery that impairs her? We simply could not risk that. I talked on the phone with the gastroenterologist who diagnosed that and suggested surgery. I had a heavy gut feel of misbelief in his diagnosis when we talked on the phone and told me it was severe. He said “the MRI scan showed penetration of the cancer into the deep tissue”, and that’s why I didn’t believe him at that point because my mom never went to do an MRI scan. How can he possibly say it was severe? I had concluded he confused my mom with another patient who was supposed to go to surgery. Clearly it was the MRI results that made him suggest the surgery. I had recommended and my family concurred that we should observe it for a while because the pain was not severe and not at all consistent. I said, let’s bring her to Canada for a long vacation and see how it progresses. She would be under my and my sister’s care, and if there were episodes, she could have access to one of the more advanced health care system in the world. We would monitor her condition, if the pain grew or happened more frequently, and if she would lose weight and all that other symptoms. We researched well into it and tried the homeopathy or natural approach of fighting cancer. We showered her with all the love and care we could possibly give, and made her comfortable and happy. We nourished her with the healthiest food, vegetables, fruits and even all mutations of guyabano or soursap for its anti-C properties. We bought her guyabano juice, tea, in the boxes. In Winnipeg, we even bought the actual fruit that flew over the Pacific and imported from the Philippines. I couldn’t even find fresh Guyabano in Pampanga, but it was amazing that it was available in Canada. We made that vacation, the best she ever had in her life. And the stories about how happy she was, is never ending. This list goes on and on. She became healthy, no stomach pain and she gained a lot of weight. So we told her, mom, maybe it was just ulcers and not the big C, because there were no other symptoms. Or maybe it was but we were just on top of it.

So, back to the airplane story, so there we were, and I was explaining how everything worked and how I made sure she would be able to, in case she couldn’t wait for me, go home by herself later in the year. I had to make sure she knows how to naviagate her way around and also to use the full array of services. She made friends with the flight attendants right away as she could only drink milk on this flight. She had this easy charm about her, and even the flight attendants, were just on their own accord, giving her a fresh cup, now and then. She had this kind, friendly face and it would work amazingly on strangers. If I asked for a Diet coke refill, I’d probably get sneered at. But here she was, with her smile making them work with her and with the most unusual requests.

When we touched down to Vancouver, I rehearsed her answers for the Immigration Officer. She could speak good English, but she was a little nervous, so I had to make sure she was confident and comfortable, to say “I will stay 6 months, possibly a year”. As you know, even with a multiple entry visa, length of stay, always depended on the Immigration Officer at port. I accompanied her to the queue and when her turn came up, she just smiled and was pleasant. They didn’t even ask her a single question. The officer then asked me, “Is this your mom?”, and I said “yes”. He said, “Please let her stay as long as she likes. I’ll stamp her for 6 months and then he continued to explain how we would simply apply online and make it 2 years”. Amazing. When I saw the people ahead of us in the line struggle a little bit, my mom just breezed through it with her demeanor.

I will tell you this other story just to reinforce how amazing she is with strangers. In October, on her way back, she travelled alone. Being the control freak that I am, she knew what to expect, fro A to Z. From even knowing what the airport is going to look like, which way to turn, and how to find her gate number. She was still nervous that time but we knew that she would do well. She surpassed that expectation and even did better! On her way to Vancouver, she befriended a Portuguese-Canadian lady named Maria who was her seatmate at the plane. They talked and instantly bonded. Maria recently lost her husband to cancer and was telling my mom how they made the last years of his life significant. They talked about my dad and how my mom missed him so much, having been apart for the longest time in their lives on this vacation to Canada. This Winnipeg to Vancouver flight was a short one. It was 2 hours on the air tops. At the end of this flight, the Maria handed her a $20 bill. She said, “Go spend this in Vancouver and buy a little gift for your hubby and hug him as tight as you can and cherish every moment with him”. She was so excited to tell us this story on a payphone in Vancouver, and we were so happy. I was so worried that she would be scared on her own. Instead she walked out of the plane with a friend, a random stranger, and $20 in her pocket! I had flown so many, many times in my life, lived in 3 other countries, flew to many cities aboard many flights. I have never made a friend on board. And I have never gotten money from a friend or a random stranger that I have just met. She trumped me on her first flight alone. And I strive to be someday, be like her too.

My mom was really charismatic, sweet, kind and friendly and like my dear friend said, people named “Gloria”, were meant to be angels. She was exactly that to us, she came home happy and strong and ready to fight the disease if she did have it. She cherished every moment with us and hugged us tight and told us daily how she loved us. She made sure my father felt loved and special, and she even threw him his biggest birthday party on June 17. She held my father’s hand and my brother’s hand, on her last gulp of breath; they both kissed her on the cheek. 2:19 am on July 3. Meanwhile my sister and I, enjoyed after a good lunch, talking about mom, and at 2 pm our time, got the biggest shock of our lives. She was gone. She was 63.

k.
at 40000 ft. somewhere between Winnipeg and Calgary. 1049am central.