Monday, October 31, 2011

What she doesn't know...

Her beloved sister Mele Tupou, passed away March last year.  To this day, I haven't got the heart to tell her that her sister died.  Because of her condition, I fear that any such tragic news, will no better then just push her over to her grave prematurely.   This morning we discovered that my three brothers are out there in San Francisco.  They are delivering stuff for my dear cousin Toli (Mele's only daughter).   When my mother overheard us chatting about San Francisco, her eyes lit up.  She knows that whenever someone goes to Frisco and returns, she can expect a suitcase full of goodies from her sister Mele.

My father and I looked at each others.  Tears threatens my eyes and my heart squeezed with love for my mother and for her long gone sister.  Am I doing the right thing?  At the funeral last year, we all agreed that it was best not to let her know about Mele's death.   And, if we do decide to tell her, I would be the one to do it.  I came home from the funeral contemplating numerous way I could tell her and when would be the best time to do it.  But, ALAS, when the time comes, my mouth zips up and I just couldn't bring myself to say the words to her. 

I thought time would make me stronger.  That with time I can gather the courage to say the words.  "Mami, 'oku ke 'ilo'i koaa kuo 'osi si'i mate 'a Mele Tupou."  "Mom your sister passed on" or "Mom your sister died last year but we couldn't tell you."  I still can not do it.  I don't know when I would be able to either.  She still doesn't know her sister died last March.   The sad part to all this is that, I don't know when I'll ever be able to say the words to her.  

Mom's cancer has rejected the old Famara.   For three years it seems to be doing just fine.  Now, the tumor's resisting and they are trying a new medication called "Tamoxifen".  Hopefully this will help.  Chemo is out of the question because her body is just not strong enough.  I'm just trying to do the best I can to help them but guilty to say that I still don't feel I'm doing nearly enough for them. 


  1. I'm so sorry. My mom is in remission from breast cancer and I know too well the feeling of being helpless, powerless. My thoughts are with you.