Chaos

Mothers Day

Posted by: Samiuela LV Taufa on May 14, 2007 2:13:15 PM

Well, yesterday was Mother's Day for a number of different places around the world and Tonga along with them all.

Tonga's Mother's Day kinda follows along like most places (? I think to myself) but it also a special time for me to remember my own Mother who passed away 2 years ago.

On this day, someone turns up to church with some white flowers for the mothers. Worn by some as pendants, and this year the Ma'ufanga Sunday School made up little packages for their teachers and other mothers.

Due to this month having a lot of long Sunday programs, the monthly Eucharist of the FWC was held this Sunday and it in itself reveals a number of things about life in Tonga.

Remembering Mum.

Of course I have other 'mothers' and will continue to have them, but Ma'ata Ngalo'afe Taufa (for whom my daughter takes her name) was an especially special person, so much so that many in the broader Tongan community also saw this uniqueness in her.

A thought that came to me days before this Mother's Day was our last visit with her to the Emergency Ward. As her cancer had nearly completed wasted away her internals, one of the symptoms was just a straight lack of blood flowing through her system to keep the arteries and veins 'vital.'

We'd spent the week with her throwing up her food on a regular basis, and even with antacid stuff it came to a point where she wasn't able to take food of any quantity. My mother had a strong will to live, to work, so she would ask for food knowing that she would throw up. Never complaining that she was dying, while only mentioning that she can't eat anymore because of the pain in her throat.

In this past week the stuff she was throwing up started to be more brownish (which was apparently blood.)

Obviously, we needed to get a drip on her and get some 'stuff' into her intravenously. Unfortunately, as her blood circulation had decreased, so were her veins harder to pierce for the drip. On that first night the Doctor tried in vain/vein three or four times before she decided she'd call in a specialist. We waited around for an hour or two before he was available (apparently someone who does a lot of blood stuff) he still had to try three times to find a vein that would take.

Mother had to stay in intensive care because the beds were full in the ward that she needed to go to. The next day they needed to take another vein because the first line had dried above or some technical term for no longer any good. My brother and I were there, and she'd been taken to another room for the work, we waited around for a while and one of the nurses said we could go in if we'd like. So we walk in and two doctors were still at it poking my mother to get a drip feed.

I can't remember whether they were successful or whether they finally decided to get a nurse or specialist to try. What I do remember is that my mother was quite annoyed with the two doctors, but the only comment she made was.

Pehee 'enaua ko ha fu'u papa au.
Do they think I'm a piece of wood, without feelings?

It seemed that with the continuous time they must have poked her like a pin cushion either in desperation or well beyond their depth of talent.

Two things came to mind.

The strength of my mother to bear all this inconvenience with a smile that was as much a show of appreciation to the medical staff as strength for her family. The hallmarks of an extraordinary person.

Patch Adamesque - Treating the symptom instead of the patient.

Taking the Eucharist

The Sakalameniti/Eucharist is pretty big at the Free Wesleyan Church (FWC,) or at least the 'trappings' of the eucharist are fairly big at the FWC. Quite a few people deck/dress slightly better or are more concerned with the fittings on these days. (At least some of the kids sure looked like they had collections left from the Fakame.)

Whilst standing from outside with my son, who as per norm, banished outside for making too many too loud noises in church.

I saw the church that pretends to prepare people for the next life, and yet we still treat each other different in the current life. There is a definite/definitive social strata in most 'Christian' churches and privileges are according to where you and your like stand within this social hierarchy.

Weird isn't it? I mean, when we all supposedly get to heaven or hell (depending on your bent) there are only two defined stratas that we know of. God/Satan and their helpers occupy one strata in that world, and then everyone else is of equal rank in the next strata. In the now, BETWEEN heaven and hell the church leadership is hell bent on treating us differently depended very largely on your ability to socially/financially benefit the church.

That doesn't seem right ?

So, Sisitoutai (son) and I finally get back inside and its time for dad to walk the aisles and get his eucharist.

I'm kneeling there waiting for the bread, grab it, wait for the 'agreed' signal. Swallow, wait for the grape-juice, grab it, wait for the 'agreed' signal. Swallow it.

Being the synic, I'm thinking how much of this formalism/ritual actually means anything spiritual to anybody?

If we play lip service to the very religions we profess, what hope is there for reform ?