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Not by distance nor of seasons

Its always been a dream to win the lottery. The fantasy that goes with

such thinking is unreal. There are places to see, people to meet and of

course, money to spend. But theres a lottery that most people dread.Its the knocking of misfortune on ones door which can come with

some unpleasant surprises causing anxiety, pain, and grief. I hadmisfortune visiting one day. My world nearly crumbled.

It started a day like any other. My wife settled herself in the livingroom playing the piano piece she loves. Midway, she felt a pain in her

chest, the kind that she has never felt. Her breathing became difficult,as though constricted, like a ton of brick lay on her chest. She gathers

her strength to call out for help. A neighbor rushed in, saw her leaning

on the piano, and instinctively, shes brought to the hospitalsemergency room (ER).

Meanwhile, unaware of whats going on, its a normal day in the office

for me. Past noon, I got a call from a number I did not recognize.Rather than ignore it, I answered. I was told my wife was in the ER

and if I can come immediately. I asked if I can speak to her thinking

could this be the budol-budolgang? Our neighbor instead spoke to me.That was when I knew its her. Its serious, too. I dropped everything,

left word with a colleague of my family emergency.

Reaching the ER, I saw the pillar of my strength, my soul mate andpartner, lying on the bed, helpless, hapless, but not humor-less (sheraised the L-sign, laban she signals) while being administered oxygen,

intravenous fluids, and what not. She loathes attention, ironically,shes attended to by as many as a basketball team. One nurse

approached me to confirm my relationship with the patient. She asked

me more questions. All the time while I answered, my thoughts wereracing, God, please give her the strength to pull through.

The ER attending cardiologist sided up to me. She informed me that

my wife had just suffered a heart attack. She was lucky to have gottenmedical attention quickly. Then she told me what she needed.Immediately, an angiogram, to detect arteries blocked by plaque that

prevents smooth blood flow which could lead to a fatal cardiac arrest Iftheres such blockage, to determine its number, and then to either do

an angioplasty, an intervention that inserts a very tiny tube, called astent to push the collapsed artery walls to allow blood to flow again

freely or a heart bypass surgery.

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The information overwhelmed me. If untreated, shes a walking time

bomb the doctor warns. How can someone so precious to me carry aticking time bomb? Then, theres the matter of cost. Heart surgery is

like luxury goods, best known from a distance and if acquired should

only be by the rich and infamous. This is where reality bites. Lifehangs in a balance and my familys balance sheet lists little surplus, if

at all.

Yet, trust in the only One who has the answer. Only the Lord can

respond, totally and completely in times like this. I did the best thing.I prayed. Its praying that will move mountains. Realizing my

incapacities, I turned to my greatest ally, and implored Him, Lord, Ipray for your mercy and compassion. I know that now, I see only one

set of foot prints, Yours, as you carry me in this difficult moment. I lift

all of these to You and your infinite wisdom. Your will be done!

With that prayer and surrender, I felt at peace. By some reason, myfear was no longer as intense. I assured my wife not to worry. And

indeed, our guardian angels descended to rescue her. This is a majorfund raising activity. And help did come in such speed it boggles the

mind.

As mothers are linked to an invisible umbilical cord, what ails her child

she feels. My mother is based in Toronto. The time zone alone affordsa 12-hour difference. Her night is my day. While I chose not to inform

her of my predicament, my prayers may have crossed boundaries andsomehow, Bro managed to send her a distress call. She says she justhad a feeling of longing for me all too suddenly. Mothers intuition?

This proves that a Mothers love is endless. Neither distance nor

seasons can thwart it. At six in the evening, still in the ER, angelus

time, with a soft voice she asked, How is my son? Then and there Ilost it. I was seven all over again. I unabashedly criednot so much

out of fear, but how faithful God is by giving me a Mother who is mymain guardian angel on earth.

I told her of my wifes condition. I knew that she was also in tears yetshe was trying to be strong for us. She assured me that theres

nothing to worry about. I love you, Son. And God will be with younow. Ill pray for both of you.

The next morning, I got a call from my brother. Mother not only

prayed for us, she also sent money which came in the nick of time.

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Like a mothers love, the cash came fast and convenient. I used it tocomplete the funds for her angioplasty. She survived the ordeal. She

has the heart of a lion now. Its my jackpot moment!

Toronto is cold and detached, Mother observes, but she ignores this.

While there, she is able to earn, save, and share, with us. This is notluck alone. Its Gods blessing. I just have to pay it forward, in the way

she expects: by loving God and my family just like how Mother alwaysdoes, unconditionally, even from half a world away.