A story I want to share to be useful to readers who still have the chance to prepare for the future is one of relying on the wisdom of “Crisis gives opportunity”, “In the midst of adversity Happiness exists”, “The Best Doctor” and “The Last Doctor” and “There are many good things that come from loss”. When our parents and loved ones become more ill, we have to have faith in our ability to take care of them in the best way possible. This requires us to have strength and courage, even in the midst of uncertainty, and to be open to the silver linings that come from loss. Through this, we can really reduce suffering, worry and create power in order to give the best care to our parents and fellow patients.
Even though he is a doctor, when my mom became ill with a condition that wouldn't go away, deciding to choose a doctor to care for her was a difficult task. Finding a way to take care of her mind was even harder. I wasn't sure who to ask or where to start, and I felt overwhelmed. I decided to reach out to a doctor's friend who had a sick father, and a medical professor, not for advice about the medical condition, but for advice about how to care for her emotionally. Through this difficult situation, I realized that crisis can provide us with opportunities to learn and grow.
“Crisis comes with Opportunity”
I want to tell a story that may be useful to readers who have the opportunity to take care of their aging, sick parents, and also to fellow doctors. It is important to put trust in the right caretakers when your parents are very ill, as this can reduce suffering, worry, and create power. Having the support of all relatives is also beneficial in further patient care.
Even though he was a doctor, when my mom was sick with a disease that wouldn't go away, it was difficult for my family and me to choose a doctor to care for her and figure out how to take care of her mental health. I didn't know who to ask, where to start. I remembered that I had lost three kilos, so I talked to a doctor's friend who had a sick and lost father and asked a medical professor not only about the disease, but also about mental care. In this crisis, I found an opportunity to help my mom.
Last year, in 2011, the trip to Japan for 7 days had to be canceled despite all the preparations. In April of the same year, he chose to practice Dharma for the second time in his life and went to Wat Pa Somphanat in Sakon Nakhon Province. Upon his return at the end of April, his father had to undergo major, high-risk surgery. In October, while a flood was coming to Bangkok, the child also had to have surgery and was uncertain if the doctor would arrive before the water did. To escape the flood, they had to move out of the province. They prayed for no complications for their father, their chronically ill mother, and the children. In January, the mother changed from a disease that did not disappear to a new type of fast-furious and was admitted to the Siriraj Hospital Institute. Until the last day on April 28, 2012, she passed away peacefully.
Because of the "crisis," I had the "opportunity" to train myself in ways that medical textbooks do not teach, which has enabled me to take better care of everyone with more awareness and relaxation.
This year, due to my mother being very sick, I chose not to go anywhere for Songkran. Instead, I decided to take my child to a nearby temple and spend one night there. This was a great decision as it is difficult to find something to eat when travelling to Thailand, as well as being more expensive than normal. I began to realize the value of taking a break and enjoying Songkran once a year, by going to a temple, calming my mind, and having quality time with my children or family.
Due to this "crisis", I am given another "opportunity" to retrain myself and my child. Consequently, we were able to return to visit his mother in a more mindful manner.
“The Best and Last Doctor”
Ajarn Teera, a senior doctor at Siriraj Hospital for two years, took excellent care of her mother for five full years. I remember when I first searched for information about which medical professors at the hospital would come to take care of my mother, but I never finished that search. I decided to let Phi Thira be the caretaker. He not only presented the truth but also gave hope, encouragement, and most importantly, faith to mothers and to us, including everyone in the family. We all think of this brother as a "best doctor" and his cheerfulness always uplifts our spirits. We practice obeying Brother Thira in everything and admire our doctor all the time. Even two weeks before he left, he still said: “Doctor Thira Kaedee is going to die. I believe that this doctor can help me.” My mother believed in everything he said. We learned from Phi Theera how to be a good doctor not only to our mothers, but to everyone in the family. Another thing we learned is that even if the patient has an incurable disease, especially in the late stages, even in the normal ward, the patient and their relatives still need medical care. Nurses are no different from patients in the ICU because the pain from the disease is different from day to day. We understand deeply the suffering of relatives who do not know how to help their loved ones, especially when our own mother was that patient. We learned that consistent care, attentiveness, encouragement, touching, and helping, even if the disease does not heal, can help relieve the pain. Phi Teera was unable to make her mother recover, but her mother's suffering was over and at peace when the "departure" had helped her. This idea was reinforced when my sister-in-law brought a book to help distribute in her mother's work. Two days after my mother's passing, the title of Than Piyasophon from Rama IX Temple changed my perspective on her departure immediately and made us feel much more comfortable. We realized that for the past five years, especially the last four months, we had done our best to take care of our mother. We think that if we had read this book first, it would have helped us to take care of our mother with joyful hearts and to better guide family members. The book is only a few pages long.
“Many good things come from losing”
We “lost” our beloved mother, but she was granted rest, peace, and well-being until the time of her peaceful passing. Mother chose to donate her body to a hospital for medical students to study anatomy, as a peaceful choice two weeks before leaving. Mother said to her sister, “You can go, Sukon,” which she had never said before. This is an example of leaving a legacy for ourselves, something that we have prepared and done in life that will guide us when we see the real thing. The joint care of the mother for her siblings brought them closer together, helping them to love each other more than before. The sisters invited their father abroad as a family, as there is only father left now. We need to hurry up in order to help each other and make the most of our time with our loved ones.
"In the midst of suffering, happiness does exist."
The kindness of many relatives, friends, and co-workers was revealed to me as I prepared to leave. They showed their support in many ways, such as attending the event, sending wreaths, making merit, and writing words of remembrance. Even though I didn't understand the emotions of the child, I felt unspeakably grateful for the support I received. Seeing so many people attend the wedding was a great honor for my parents. Finding parking at the wedding hotel was difficult, but parking at the temple was even more so. This showed me how much people cared and were willing to put in the effort to attend.
I had taken the importance of family for granted, but after this experience I felt a deeper appreciation for them. Tuo Hia, Doctor Mong's eldest brother, even came to work for four days, including the last day. I was so moved by his dedication, and my wife and I sent a message of gratitude to all of our brothers and sisters for taking the time to join us. I am now more aware of how meaningful the bond of family is, and I will never forget it.
At first, I thought I was the only one feeling this way. Then, on the third day of the event, my sister came and shook her hand, expressing her joy that many wreaths had been given by leaders on Mother's Day, and sending an email to thank her colleague for their kindness. This kindness was seen by relatives who were ill and had to sit in wheelchairs, by friends who had not seen each other for 20 years, and by young people who only superficially knew each other. Even a sister's friend, who had broken off communication for more than 20 years, was generous enough to join the event. Through this event, we can see the special bond of love between mothers and children, and how they comfort and support each other even in times of suffering.
“No one's suffering is heavier than others.”
For five full years, my mother was sick, often in and out of the hospital. With a myriad of illnesses changing almost every 1-2 weeks, it was a difficult time for our entire family. We had to face the struggles of losing our maid in the flood, leaving us with no childcare, and having to take care of the house while also going to visit my mother in the hospital. I was always exhausted, often falling asleep as soon as I got into bed. One morning, I received a WhatsApp message from my sister in the middle of the night, telling me the latest news of my mother's condition. I was relieved to find a note slipped under my door, which said, “There's snacks in the fridge. You can take it and eat it.” Every time my mother had a new symptom, my siblings and I were always informed. This stressful period was especially tough when I was already tired from work, and coming home felt like there was no time for rest, as there was an important patient waiting for me. Through this experience, I learnt to appreciate the little joys in life, and to be more grateful for the opportunities that I have been given. I am fortunate enough to have access to better healthcare and treatments than many other patients, due to my mother's ability to withdraw from my father's civil service. I cannot imagine the difficulties faced by those who do not have these privileges, and how much more their sufferings must multiply ours.
“Body is suffering, but the mind can be happy. It's about knowing and choosing."
My mother is an incredibly strong and brave fighter who has accepted her disease. She takes better care of her health, and in her illness she has learned to do things she never thought she would be able to do, like embroidery and cross-stitch. Even though her body is sick, she continues to pray for more than an hour and practice her Dharma. We can take pity on our mothers, and on all those around us, but it is important to remember that our mothers are much stronger than we think.
“Choose the way to go”
The last four months have been difficult for us, as we had to make the difficult decision of leaving our mother with Siriraj, which was very far away. The traffic jam and the fear of being reckless when driving at night made it harder for us to take care of our mother. We realized that self-consolation was necessary, so we decided to do our best and stay strong for our mother. Deciding how to leave my mother was very difficult and we had to learn that patients must have the right to choose. Our teacher advised us that day that we should not speak directly and should share an example with others so that everyone can express their opinions and understand each other. Thus, we would not feel guilty of the final decision, as it was made by all of us who love our mother the most. We would rather have her leave in peace than hold on to technology, which would not result in a different outcome.
Consulting with a monk who respects himself can be a great way to learn about the Dharma and gain insights that might not have been taught in medical school. Non-academic textbooks can provide an excellent source of information, and it can be beneficial to learn how to practice the Dharma that the monk used to do. Additionally, it is important to be mentally prepared for the possibility of a close loved one or parent becoming ill, and to be able to know how to cope with such a situation. It would be beneficial to pass this knowledge and understanding of life onto our children, so that they have both knowledge and an understanding of life to act as a strong armor when something difficult hits.
“Being prepared is better, including passing”
We had known for five years that my mother's disease was not going to go away. But I still felt a shock when I received a call from my sister at midnight on April 28th. She said the doctor had come to assess my mother's condition. I was overwhelmed with emotion and had to take a moment to calm myself down. I prepared the necessary items, woke my father, and asked our doctor, Mong, to come with us. The housekeeper was asked to take care of the three children, and my sister was called from the airport to not drive by herself and let her brother-in-law be the driver. Mong went to pay homage to the Buddha image in the Buddha room before we left. As a last touch, I grabbed a brooch with a picture of Luang Ta and the word “Feeling” from a temple we visited last year.
We all gathered around our mother as tears of siblings and other relatives filled the room. We tried to take heed of the words from the Dharma book we had read two days prior: "Be mindful of the impermanence of life, the prison of the soul, and the eventual passing of our beloved ones." As we could not pray, we set our minds to wish our mother a peaceful departure, as the teacher had taught. We listened to the mother's heart one last time to make sure it had stopped. In an effort to bring comfort to her, we opened the Chinnabanchorn chants she liked to hear every night. My sister held my mother's hand until her last breath. We gathered our consciousness to the end and said to our mother, “Rest peacefully, don't worry, we are here with you.” We bowed our heads in respect and asked for forgiveness for anything we may have done wrong or hurt her in any way. We carefully removed all cables and accessories from her body, knowing we had done all we could.
No matter what circumstances we find ourselves in, whether we leave unprepared, prepared, or suddenly, we must strive to leave a good legacy behind us. We must take the time to do the things that matter most to us and our loved ones, even if they do not result in success. Then, when it is time to leave, we can rest assured that our good deeds will be remembered. My mother's passing showed me this, as I heard many kind words in her memory. Therefore, we must encourage ourselves to act quickly and do good so that our virtues remain long after we are gone.
"Don't wait until Mother's Day to give your mom a hug; do it now, before it's too late to show your love and appreciation."
I will always be thankful to my sister, who a week before my mother passed away, urged me to go and see her. That day, I had planned to go to Suan Mokkh in Bangkok for Mindfulness Day with my children and Mo Mong, but my sister encouraged me to go and visit my mother first. Remembering her face, which was very weary, I went to see her that day, early in the afternoon. When I entered the room, she was already smiling happily, saying “I'm so glad I woke up and saw my son so early in the morning.” We had been used to going to see her in the evenings, so this was something special for her. We hugged each other and then I took out a stethoscope to listen to her lungs. She said “Having a doctor is good like this.” I asked her if she was hurt, and she smiled again and said “I'm fine.” That was the last time I ever hugged my mother. From then on, her arms were too weak to even lift, and she couldn't speak. But my sister was wise enough to encourage me to go and see her while she still had the strength to hug back and express her feelings. She also made sure to arrange for each meal, a frequent visitor and for many days. She even took my mother to pray and opened the CD of prayers for her to listen to every day. My younger sister, who had never been taken seriously by the elders, also decided to stay with her for two days and the last night of her life, even though she hadn't prepared anything at all. Without their love and care, I would have missed the opportunity to make my mother's last days the best.
“Do it for mom when she’s with us”
Our pride in making mothers is rooted in our commitment to building a cloister for Wat Pa Akaliko in Kalasin Province. We invited my mother to have a Dharma conversation at home, which she was happy to do even when she was ill. My brother and I decided to find someone from the center that was hard to find, and it cost more than twice what it was. But it was the right decision, as people care deeply for our mother. We later found out that the red thread tying candy was a belief as a tribute to our mother. To honor her memory, we decided to distribute Dharma books as a charity. We contacted Luang Ta at Wat Pa Somphanat, who provided us with CDs at a discounted price of ten baht each. Doctor Mong helped to hurry up the process, and Than Chutipanyo came down to Bangkok to help bring books from various temples that he knew. We were able to get a variety of books in large quantities and distributed them every day. Our daughter and my sister's daughter were the ones who gave them away when someone paid their respects to the mother. Everyone was able to take them, even those who were afraid of reading Dharma books. When they saw the children's faces and heard their voices calling out "A book to commemorate Grandma's work," everyone accepted them as intended.
If we are able to obtain books from various temples that have been published as dhamma alms, such as Wat Yannawesakawan in Nakhon Pathom, we may not be able to take many of them. However, we can still make merit by telling how many books we would like to print and reserving the rest in case someone can claim them later. For example, at Rama 9 Temple (contact 02-719-7550-1) and at Sanam Nai Temple, there are books for sale at a low price. After reading the words “Dharma surpasses all other charities”, I understand that it does not mean that one has received more merit than anything else. Rather, it is like teaching a child to fish, not giving fish. Reading a book and putting it into practice and recommending good dharma to others will spread far and wide, which is useful to a lot of people. I am glad that I made my mother proud by doing such deeds. However, when the mother passed away, making food for charity and bringing money from people who make merit in the mother's event to donate at the place where she used to wish would not be as useful as doing anything to her while she was still alive. This we truly understand deeply.
“Leaving is like trying to heal a wound; it's a difficult task.”
With each passing day, the comfort and support of those who attended or simply sent their hearts provided solace and strength for the children as they prepared for their temple work. It was like tending to a wound: doing the work each day slowly made the pain lessen and eventually disappear, much like a depressed mood. The sorrow in their hearts soon healed, and their exhaustion from the day-to-day work was replaced with a sense of accomplishment. Even when they finally went to bed, their sisters and brothers were doing the same.