My wife was in and out of the hospital with numerous health complaints, the chief one being her ‘damaged kidney’. During the third spell of  admission, she had a premonition that she was not returning home – alive. So much so, she had announced her will orally to the daughter on how to distribute all her jewellery.  Turning to me, she asked “How are you going to manage?” Though a very   delicate subject,  seeing the way she was  gearing herself up to face the final moments of her  earthly life, I too said very bravely, “Don’t worry my love, I won’t fret, I won’t cry over your departure, I shall be all right..”   “Wouldn’t you like to live with our three children in rotation?” she asked. “No,” I said resolutely.  “I shall remain in the same house and perhaps spend a few days with each child.  Shall never stay with any of them permanently.”  She had okayed the plan.

Although she was in a private ward, she was moved to the ICU at the slightest aggravation of her condition.  Life in the ICU is gruesome.  Visitors were allowed in the morning and evenings for some 20 minutes.  Otherwise she was all by herself;  a nurse was available on hand;  she also used to feed the  patient.  The food given  was pathetic.  When I saw her one day with ‘rice porridge’, my heart jumped out of its cavity.  “Could one  survive with a scanty meal such as that?” I debated. But then, that was that. The ICU staffs knew what they were doing. Then on the following day, she was in pain, wriggling and twisting her body even for breathing.  “Oh LORD, ” I cried out to my God.  “She is suffering,  suffering a lot, don’t you see?”  The doctor on duty said that her lungs have become weak and she had to be put on oxygen.

It was an unbearable sight.  On the third day, I found myself praying, “Lord, if this is  the case, take her away. She will then be free from pain…”  I knew her end was coming and yet I  didn’t want to accept it.” In the  course of the next 2 days, she was kept  on ventilator and also steroid. Became unconscious on and off. She couldn’t recognise people including me because she showed no reaction of any kind when a visitor spoke to her.  Again my silent prayer to my Lord God was, “Take her away Lord. Keep her in your bosom and she would be free from pain and  be at peace.”

The end came at 11.37 p.m on 3 Jan 10.  My second son, who was the ‘attender’ in waiting was summoned to the bed side to have a look at the screen;  the lines were fading or disappearing.  And at dot 11.37pm, the screen was blank.  She was no more.

My son rang me up immediately  to  convey the news.  “Shall be with the body in about 2 hours time,” he had said. At 0200 hours, my wife came home at last – as a dead person.  All my brave words  had melted away.  “Did I send you to the hospital for this, my love?”  I couldn’t believe my eyes.  An active and vibrant person was lying motionless right in front of my eyes.  “She is dead,  she is dead. She is gone,”  I had to tell myself repeatedly.

All the sorrows and downheartedness apart, one had to go through the routine of disposing off a lifeless  body.  We had to wait another day for the daughter to arrive from Bengaluru, some 350 km away.  The eldest son couldn’t attend her funeral on the  5th  of Jan 10.  He is stationed at Atlanta, USA.

Much as I disliked, I had to be a witness of the final ceremony.  Her coffin was taken to the church for the final service and from thereon to the cemetery, where she was to be buried.  My heart broke when her body was lowered into the grave for her final rest. And I had to witness all these.

Have attended so many death ceremonies of friends, my own sisters and brother. But  when the victim is your own wife, your whole attitude is different.  At times. one felt like shouting at the Creator too.

I am now missing her daily. We had been married for 57 years and she would have been 78 on 16 Jan, just 13 days short. “She is no more, boy.” a voice keeps reverberating in my mind and I am still trying to come to terms with the reality.  “So, help me Lord.”

Israel Jayakaran

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