From the doorway of the ward, the man seemed like a ponderous statue, lying solid and inert in bed. Stout limbs and close-cropped black hair gave a hint that he was of vigor while awake. Even so, he was hovering on the brink of death, for his face was ashen, and his eyelids were sealed.
At the sight of so much suffering of her son Howard, my grandmother was trying with all her might to bridle her sorrow, but her lips were quivering. Uncle Howard’s two elder sisters were fluttering about like an ant on a hot pan, and his younger sister, my mom, had been sighing away for hours. Strangely enough, his wife Linda didn't show up.
“Don’t you feel strange? This is her husband, and she is keeping shop rather than looking after him, and she bothers other people to take care of him!” I complained. Seeing that I almost flew into a rage, my mom put her hand to my mouth to stifle a shout.
My uncle was sent to hospital in late April, 2008. That day he suddenly collapsed on the ground while having lunch. Then his skin became blue and purple in no time. He was sent to the hospital in a hurry, but it was too late. The doctor said that Uncle Howard suffered from acute myocardial infarction because of overwork. Unfortunately, he was eating when AMI broke out, so the airway was blocked by food. What’s worse, he might become a vegetable for a long time.
At first, Aunt Linda emerged visibly distressed and tearful. Within a few days of taking care of her husband, she was back at work, grumbling that they would lose a lot of customers if nobody kept the shop. Helplessly, we had to stay with my sick uncle by turns.
What made me angry was that Aunt Linda asked us to vacate our house to her, for our house was so near to the hospital that she could look after Uncle Howard more conveniently. This proposal evoked great panic among my family. In fact, my parents and I were living in the house registered in my grandmother’s name, and it hadn’t been assigned to my parents. Many years ago, almost all the property of my grandfather was seized by my uncle. They expelled us from our home, making us homeless. And now, they want to play the same old trick!
Soon after my parents gave her a stern rebuff, Aunt Linda stopped the treatment of my uncle. “The doctors held out no hope of his recovery.” She explained. There was no doubt that she was telling a lie, because my mom saw Uncle Howard’s eyelids fluttered the other day. Within hours of discontinuing treatment with my uncle, he passed away.
After the death of her husband, Aunt Linda converted to Christianity. But now, she still turns to Taoist fortune teller for help. Maybe she just wants to save funeral expenses by converting to Christianity? God knows!
