Message from Heaven

Real story

It was the last days of December 2012, and my mother, already at an advanced stageof pregnancy, was leaving the church, in her purple coat, under which herpregnant belly was visible, together with my father. They were talking aboutsomething, and they were looking where I was. Even then, I was walking
aroundthe parking lot looking for our car while all kinds of thoughts were runningthrough my mind, causing a restlessness that lasted for months and intensifiedwith time. Restlessness, as if something bad is going to happen as if somethingis coming. And then, as a 13-year-old child, I didn't tell anyone because I wasafraid of judgment, and ridicule and that my mother might not believe me, butalso that she might be shocked if I told her. That pressure in my head, thatconstant urge to repeat things to "undo bad thoughts" only squeezedme even more over time. In the years that followed and when I finally decidedto seek help, I learned that it was called an obsessive-compulsive disorder.When they came to the parking lot, my mother asked me what was happening to melately and why I was behaving so strangely, I told her that I was fine, and Iwas just pretending that everything was fine. My sister asked me why I was sodisturbed, you know those conversations and disagreements between brothers andsisters when in fact they love each other the most in the world, I didn'tanswer her either. We got into the car and drove home. Since my mother wasalready late in her pregnancy, we were waiting for the day when she would givebirth, and we had already prepared everything for the baby. My sister and Ioften cuddled with her by petting her belly and looking for our baby (littlesister inside) to give us some sign whether it was a small bump or a visiblehead, hand, or foot on the surface of her belly. Our mother was a verystrong-hearted woman, fair, honest, and full of love for her children, herhusband, and dedication to her family, and above all in my and my sister'seducation. We always loved cuddling with her, me, and my sister, and it was ourdaily ritual, something we demanded daily, and she was happy to oblige. She wasdue to give birth on January 6, 2013, and as the time of delivery approached,so did my fear that something would happen to my mother or sister. She went tothe hospital two days before she was supposed to give birth and did not givebirth on the day, she was due, so they kept her. I remember that my dad camehome on those days as it was the holidays but also because of my mother'spregnancy. At that time, my father worked as a truck driver for an Austriancompany, and we were an "average Herzegovinian family". A woman wholooks after the children at home and takes care of them, and on the other hand man who earns a living and supports the family. But my mother was anythingbut average, she graduated from law school, and she worked for a while untilher probationary period ended after that she got pregnant, so she worked for awhile in the court in the land registry for a very low hourly wage, but sheliked to work and she was very smart and hardworking., as she says, she alwayswent so she wouldn't have to be at home all day so she wouldn't go crazy andfight with her mother-in-law. And she transferred her desire to work, learn andprogress to me and my sister, which especially benefited us in the later yearsthat came and created a work habit for which I am immensely grateful, and allof this can be manifested in my success of me and my sisters to this day. Loveand respect for everyone, regardless of race, gender, religion, nationality,etc. The love and willingness to help and the great kindness of her heart andsoul were reflected in her outer life. She was a striking woman, with herheight and beautiful appearance, but most of all she was adorned by her goodsoul and heart, and she was like a light that illuminates every room sheenters. All this is only confirmed by the enormous number of people who came totheir funeral and her friends who are still ready to help me and my family tothis day and the other citizens of the city of Mostar with whom she wasfriends, who remember her with tears in their eyes and a smile on lips. As shestayed longer in the hospital, she told my father that she would call him whenshe went to give birth, and we kept waiting for news from the hospital. I toldmy dad not to tell me anything because deep down I was afraid that my mothermight die during childbirth, alone or with the child. It was as if I had apremonition all the time that something was going to happen to her, as well asthat in general something was coming. On January 7, 2013, my and dad weresitting in the living room in the early evening, he was watching TV anddrinking a glass of wine on his armchair with his legs stretched outcomfortably, and I was sitting across the street on the couch. At that moment his phone rang, I just said: "Please don't say anything to me and coveredmy ears". He said that mom is fine and that my sister was born and thateverything is fine. He immediately took out his cell phone and told me we wouldsee them at the hospital. Out of joy and happiness, he jumped from his armchairwhere he was comfortably sitting with his legs outstretched towards the TV. We rushed down the stairs and got into the car. As soon as he grabbed the shifter,I could already see that his cell phone camera was on because of excitement joy, and happiness, even though we had a three-minute fast drive to thehospital. We got there, the mother was brought on a mobile bed, and the baby was subsequently brought into a glass crib. Mom specifically asked for what she wanted to eat and to drink, and we brought it to her, and she was very tired but also happy. We took pictures of her and the baby, and dad gave money to the midwife and the doctor, as is the custom in our region. After that, we went home.