The beeping monitor served as the only testament to her fragile heartbeat. Her brain was scattered amidst memories of her children and the life she had lived. She could hear her firstborn, voicing out her grief. The smell of disinfectant assaulted her nose, making her breathing feel more labored. Her ears throbbed at the sound of footsteps roaming around her room, not failing to remind her that she was gifted with playful great-grandchildren. Her daughter married early just like herself, but Valerie was blessed to have had a wonderful Marriage. Maria was grateful, she never imagined being blessed with a generous number of loving hearts accompanying her on her deathbed.

"Mom, can you hear me? Please open your eyes." Val begged.

Maria wished she could, just to assure her daughter that she was still with them. But, the silent descent of heaven's messenger was lingering around her room. She could almost hear it, the sweet melody of a harp with the warm glow of heaven's path, awaiting her fragile legs to take their final steps.

Maria Ventura, what a burnt-out soul she was. As she lay on her deathbed, she kept thinking of the life she had given her kids. They were never rich, but she managed to push through by roughing it out and working double shifts at the diner she called her bread and butter. She never re-married when her husband died.

What memories would she take with her as she trudged the stairs to eternal paradise? Most likely, her children's and grandchildren's laughter.

But, there was also that...

Her husband, and the man. Two faces that haunted her for fifty long years. One, for the life he subjected her to, while the other, a mystery she never knew how to piece together.

It was amusing how she viewed his face inside that courthouse, it looked serene. Even when the judge gave him his verdict.

Why?

Why had he done it? The reason was a mystery that remained and will probably remain a mystery. Maybe when she finally meets her maker, an answer will be given. She assumed that she would never think of him again when the trial came to an end, but he became a constant thought, dancing inside her head in her every waking hour. It was as if, she was not meant to forget. He left an imprint in her life, a deep dent, one that was baffling and too consuming to be ignored. Why had he done it? Why? For God's sake why?

Valerie Escobar held tightly her mother's hand. She watched with solemn eyes the constant movement of her mother's eyes through her closed lids. What was she thinking? Was it about her father or the man her mother wished to visit in prison?

Val had asked her mother on numerous occasions why she longed to visit her husband's murderer. Why did her mother light a candle for the convict every year, on the fourteenth of February? Why?

Her mother suffered a lot. While she was busy growing up, her mother spent endless hours in front of their dining table, constantly staring at a pile of household bills with a calculator, unfailing to mock her for their lack of funds. But despite it all, her mother always found a way to make ends meet.

Valerie used to believe Maria had superhuman abilities. The way her mother weaved resolve from one problem to another, astounded Valerie to no end. How had she done it? Taking care of two kids by herself while working to provide food on their table, without batting an eyelash or a sigh to show her frustrations or pain?

An abnormal beeping from the monitor beside her mother's bed took Valerie out of her musings. She immediately walked toward the side of the bed and pushed on the panic button.

Before any of the nurses and doctors arrived inside the room, her husband stepped in. His tight-fitted shirt proudly accentuated his already handsome face and buffed build, and despite his old age, he still looked amazing in her eyes.

Valerie ran towards him, but before she could even bridge the gap between them, the kids had already claimed their grandfather's arms.

Her husband was about to say something to her but got disrupted when the door to the room burst open. Instantly, a couple of nurses, followed by a doctor ran toward the beeping monitor. Soon, one of the nurses politely asked them to step out. Valerie immediately complied. She scooped up one of her grandkids who was standing in the middle of the room, while two more were taken by her husband.

They worriedly exited the room and took a seat on the metal bench positioned outside, just beside the door of her mother's room.

Her husband laid his head on one of her shoulders. She felt his hot breath ghost on her skin as he assured her, "She will get through this."

Valerie slowly dropped her head too, so it was resting on her husband's, then replied, "I'm not sure if she will make it this time."

Nathaniel Escobar wanted nothing more but to confirm with his wife that his mother-in-law would surely make it. But despite what he said earlier, he saw the truth. Maria will not survive her recent heart attack. It was a miracle that she survived this long. The old woman had been constantly hospitalized for the past two years. Once, the doctors even warned them that she may not survive another attack, but she survived an attack after that warning. Now would be her fifth.

There were many complications in Maria's situation, her old age and constant neglect of her health for almost five decades finally came in remission.

"Babe, do you think my mother lived a good life?" his wife suddenly asked. Her question came out of nowhere. But Nathaniel was not ignorant of the life Maria had lived. How could he not be aware, when Valerrie's family resided just across the street from his own home?

Nathaniel sighed. He understood the doubt and fear inside his wife's heart. His wife's mother worked like a mule who constantly moved, never complained, earned, saved, and watched her kids grow without a father, but never failed to raise them with a good and compassionate heart. How his mother-in-law managed to achieve such a fleet would always be a mystery to him.

Whereas his mother, who had lived a comfortable life under his father's graciousness, never failed to complain about how hard it was to raise her kids. The number of household chores was often divided between him and his sister, which left their mom to brood over nothing.

Maybe it's because his mother was a pampered child which made her perception of chores a burden. His mother used to say, "I was not meant to be someone's slave. I wasn't raised as one. Others can because they are used to it."

He couldn't confidently say that his mother-in-law was accustomed to a hard and laboured life because Maria Ventura carried herself with so much grace and elegance that one would think she was of royal blood.

So how? How had Maria managed to live and survive this long?

His musings were interrupted when the door to Maria's room slowly opened and the doctor came out with a sullen expression that sent Nathaniel's heart careening into erratic beats.

"We have stabilized her condition, but I wouldn't expect too much if I were you. Her heart is barely holding on," the doctor explained.

Upon hearing those words, Valerie started to cry. She hugged her grandchild, which was still in her arms, tighter, until the boy complained that he couldn't breathe.

Nathaniel brought his eldest grandchild down from his arm, took the other from Valerie's clutch, and hugged his wife. He may not be able to cry anywhere as she does, but he understood and felt her pain. Because it was something that he would always identify with. It was something that radiated from her to him.

That was why he tried his best at all times not to be the cause of those hot liquids falling from her eyes. Not because he worried about the pain it might give him, but because he dreaded seeing her break because of him.