Authored by: Edith Mukyala (Uganda, East Africa)
As I rested my head on his chest, sobbing, his parents walked in. I hadn’t heard them coming—I was fully engrossed in my emotions. I felt a hand touch me. I thought it was a nurse and I looked up. Wow! I had never seen such a striking resemblance between a mother and son. It was clear enough she was his mother. She gave me a motherly hug…how sweet! I went down on my knees and greeted her. His dad was standing right next to her and I knelt to greet him too. It’s an abomination to hug your father in law!
“Mama, this is the lady I was telling you about, she is the one,” said boo. I stared down with a smile—being quite shy. “You chose well my son, she is such a beauty, you have done me well,” said mama. At last his dad spoke out too, “Treat her well. Not all Kampala girls will be by your bedside when you fall ill. This one here is a keeper, love her.” I wish we had met under better circumstances but this was as well good enough. They were a family I would fit in right away.
Among the doctor’s options, his parents chose surgery. They believed he would remove it all. He was a profound surgeon and they trusted him. I would go for lectures every morning and come back in the afternoon to attend to Mark and spend time with him.
On the day of surgery, I didn’t attend any lectures. I was going to see him off, pray while he was in the theatre and watch him wheeled back to his room. His parents assured me the surgeon would do us justice. I hadn’t prayed in a long time like how I prayed while we were in hospital. God knew the state of my heart and he answers prayers, he had to answer this one.
Before he went in for surgery, he asked to talk to me and his parents and Arthur excused themselves.
“Honey, promise me that you will be you. That you will live even after I’m gone. You have to find happiness because you deserve it.”
If he hadn’t been sick, I would have slapped him hard. How could he say these things as if he was going to die? We had got him the best surgeon in the country, we had prayed enough. Of course he had to be fine.
“Hun, I’ll be out here waiting for you. You better come back,” I replied.
He simply smiled and asked me to be happy. I had to be strong for him, I tried not to cry. We said a prayer together and we kissed.
“It’s time,” said the surgeon. His parents came in to see him off. It was an emotional moment but I had to be strong for him and I held back my tears. We held hands until the theatre door. I was asked to stay back. And off my Mark was wheeled. He smiled.
***Do you think the surgery was successful? Look out for Part Seven***