- KMU Senior Vice President / CHIH-LUNG LIN , M.D., Ph.D.-
Seventeen Years of Sealed Motherly Whispers
A mother shields her child with grace,
Choosing death so life finds place.
A letter sleeps through seventeen years,
Each Mother’s Day, it wakes my tears.
Each Mother’s Day, I Remember Her
Every Mother’s Day, my thoughts return to her—a woman of immense strength and quiet nobility. Her story transformed my understanding of what it means to be a mother and stirred a tender ache for my own, who nurtured me with tireless love.
A Treatment Too Late
I first met her in clinic—37 years old, her hand entwined with her husband’s. They looked like newlyweds, radiant in their closeness. As I gathered her medical history, I noted a lump on her scalp. Imaging revealed it had invaded the skull. Malignancy seemed likely, though I chose not to say it directly. I urged her to be admitted promptly for surgery.
They sensed the gravity behind my words and scheduled the procedure.But months passed. She didn’t return. I presumed she'd sought care elsewhere.Then, one day, they appeared again—eyes shadowed with sorrow, tinged with hope. She removed her unusually tall hat, revealing a tumor so massive it left me stunned.I blurted, “Why wait until now?”
My words wounded them. She wept silently, her husband’s hand still holding hers. I stood frozen, shamed by my insensitivity. Then, with calm and courage, she whispered:“I read that if I wait until after 24 weeks of pregnancy, the anesthesia would be less harmful to the baby.”I was speechless.
She had endured unimaginable pain—not out of fear, but out of love—for the life inside her. She chose suffering so her child could have a safer entry into the world.
The Persistence of Love
I prayed for strength, and we began a full effort to help them both. We formed a team—neurosurgeons, plastic surgeons, obstetricians, pediatricians, oncologists. Together, we performed the surgery, reconstructed her scalp, and welcomed her baby daughter into the world, healthy and strong.
At every family meeting, I witnessed a love so pure, so steadfast, it inspired us all. She once held her daughter close and said, “I’ll fight to see her full moon celebration, her first birthday… maybe even more.”By grace, she lived to see that first birthday.
But cancer was cruel. In the end, even her fierce love, our best efforts, and countless prayers could not keep her here. She left us. We wept—nurses,doctors, all. We grieved not only the loss of a patient but of a mother whose strength touched us deeply.
Her daughter—so small—would never again know her mother’s embrace.
Seventeen Years of Longing
After she passed, I wrote her daughter a letter.“Your mother was like the sun, giving you life; like the moon, watching over you always. She now dwells in the sky—when you miss her, look up. She’s right there.”
That letter has remained sealed for seventeen years.Each Mother’s Day, I unfold it, and with it, memories of her sacrifice and grace. Her love, sealed in time, remains as radiant as ever.
The Love That Endures
A mother—whether with us or beyond—is our soul’s deepest tether. Her love, like spring rain, gently nourishes; like candlelight, it warms and guides.On this sacred day, may we all find the words to say:“Thank you, Mom. I love you.”