On March 11, 2011, a massive earthquake and tidal wave hit Japan. Hawaii was on tsunami alert. We anxiously waited for the unknown. Every thing changes and every thing ages. One moment is superseded by a myriad of moments in the ceaseless time and the undisappearing space. One month later, Auntie Laura died. She entrusted Donna Joan to do every thing for her. The best laid plans went for naught, for Donna did nothing. It holds true that "one may have a smiling face in the morning, but by the end of the day, may be nothing more than white ashes . . . that disappear into the midnight smoke, . . .how pitifully sad."
I recall how the whole series of events regarding Auntie Laura transpired. Mommy and I were just about stepping out the door to go to lunch. The phone rang. Mrs. Morita excitedly told me that Laura was taken to Queen's emergency. She was trying to contact Donna Joan, but there was no answer. She was relieved that I, at least, followed up on telephone messages. I said that I would go immediately. I foolishly thought that Auntie Laura would be conscious when I would be able to see her. She was unconscious with all the medical tubes and devices attached to her. Things were bad because two doctors came to speak to me when I was at her bedside. They thought that she must have hit her head. She had severe bleeding in her brain. There was no head wound, but bleeding in the brain could be due to a stroke. It was awful to see her on the hospital bed with her arms thrashing about every now and then. She was having a hard time breathing. For some reason, I had a copy of her legal papers which she wanted me to hold for safekeeping. But she had not indicated what she wanted done should she not be able to advocate for herself. All decisions rested with Donna who could not be contacted. This sounded like a poor Korean television drama. Things would go downhill that night.
Mommy and I were eating dinner when the hospital called. Another brain scan was done to check on her status. The doctor on duty said that she would probably pass that night. I was expecting Auntie to go, but she hung on until Monday morning. Was she waiting for Donna Joan?