In my late twenties I was diagnosed with hepatitis. The doctor asked me to rest in bed for 2-3 weeks then to have another analysis to track my condition.As a hyper active person, I felt mad being asked to rest in bed for all these days. I thought of reading books, watching TV, yet I knew I would still have time, long time, to remain still doing nothing. The idea was truly frustrating.
On my first day in bed my mother arrived early in the morning before my husband leaves to work. She closed the curtains of my bedroom, turned off the lights and took a seat on a chair next to my bed. She stayed there doing nothing for the whole day. Unbelievable, right? She didn’t do that only on the first day, she did it every weekday during my first three weeks of my six weeks sickness.
Can you imagine being forced to stay for eight hours silent and still in darkness with very short breaks to eat? During these hours I was going crazy. I told my mother one day that I felt buried in a grave, hoping that she loosen her rules, yer it didn’t move her. She was committed to help me recover completely. From her perspective, any efforts I do was going to catch my liver from full recovery. Watching movies, reading books and engaging in conversations would move me emotionally, which was something that might affect my recovery, she insisted.
Remembering this walk I wonder how my mother had this discipline and this patience? How she sacrificed all these days from her life, punishing herself to sit in darkness silent and still by my side so that I recover.
From this walk I learned the concept of devotion. I witnessed motherhood in its purest forms. I learned that time passes anyway and that one shouldn’t sacrifice the long term benefits for short temptations. I understood that in sickness people might lack self-discipline and their beloved ones must care for them more than they care for themselves,
Read the intro to this series of articles at: