*EP 7* Joe lost his peace since he noticed the subtle changes in Matilda's behavior and physical appearance. At first, he ignored it and defined it as postpartum stress, but as the days went by, he feared it was more than that. Her loud and heavy coughs gave him goosebumps, and the sound of her wheezing when asleep scared him. One evening, while they prepared dinner together, Joe couldn't get over the feeling that something was off. He watched as Matilda struggled to chop the vegetables, breathing heavily. "Let me handle it love," Joe said, gently taking the knife from her hand. "You're tired, go sit down." Matilda smiled weakly and handed over the knife. "I'm fine, just a bit...tired." Joe's eyes narrowed. Tired doesn’t seem to define it properly. She had been asleep most of the day while he played with Deb. She only woke up to breastfeed her and sleeps off right after. He thought of talking to his father about it, but brushed it off hoping it isn't what he had in mind. Instead, he would take her for a test anytime she brings Deb to the hospital. And she did. He had told the doctor assigned to her and Deb of his fear, and he assured him he would help him. His world came crashing down around him as he held the doctor’s report in his hands. The words “Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease” jumped off the page and slapped him. He struggled to breathe as he read through the report. “Not again, Lord.” He struggled to focus at work but could hardly succeed as he also feared for Deb. After fighting to focus at work, he took a break and went into the call room to pray. He had hoped to pray like those old women who threw their hands into the air with all their might, but all he could do was just weep and ask God for help. As he walked into his house, he braced himself up. Beyond his feelings, his wife and daughter needed him, and he was going to help. After all, there's a chance that she would get better, and she will. He took a deep breath and pasted a smile on his face. “Hey, beautiful”. He walked towards her and gave her a hug. As the days went by, Matilda became concerned. Her coughs and fatigue disturbed her. Thinking and hoping for an answer, she came across the report. Joe had hid it in his brown shoe. At first, she thought of confronting him, but stopped as she realized his fear. His mum died of the same illness. He must be afraid. She had a talk with him after he got back and her heart broke into a million pieces as she watched him break down in tears. He had been acting strong like he could bear it all alone, but it was very heavy – more than he could handle. “Let’s do this together, please.” She begged. But it was still heavy on both of them. Matilda started losing weight, her once-full hair now scanty and short. She had to stop breastfeeding Deborah, which broke her heart. Joe felt helpless, watching the woman he loved slip away from him. One day, as he was helping Matilda get dressed, she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Joe. I’m so sorry.” Joe’s heart broke. Not because of her apologies, but how she truly felt. He took her in his arms, “You’re doing just fine, love. And I am really proud of you. All I need you to do, is fight.” He said, tears escaping his eyes. “We’ll get through this together. We will.” But as the days passed, he knew that he was fighting a losing battle. COPD was a relentless enemy, and it was slowly taking the love of his life away from him. Just as it took his mother. Abel and Matilda moved in to help and support them. Abel was a great encouragement to Joe, and Matilda tried her best in taking care of Deb. She asked to drop out of the university since she just got in, but Joe and Abel refused at first, till they realized it was hard on her too. She was slowly losing her sister. “You will get through this.” Abel assured them. But things only got worse. Panic set in as Joe watched Deborah’s tiny body struggle to breathe. The doctor’s words echoed in his mind: “Lung infection… needs to be isolated… can’t risk Matilda’s health.” Deb had contacted a lung infection from Matilda. And though the doctor said she would get better after treatment, the thought of taking her away from her mother broke his heart. Matilda posed as a threat to her. Joe couldn’t continue as his patience wore thin. Is God sleeping? Or is he on a break? Would he watch him lose his wife just as he lost his mother? Matilda was already fragile, and now Deborah was sick too. He couldn't bear the thought of losing either of them. As he sat by Deborah’s bedside, holding her small hand, he felt a deep sense of helplessness. He wanted to take away her pain, to make her better, but all he could do was sit and watch. Abel came into the room, his face etched with concern. “How is she?” he asked, his voice low. Joe shook his head. “Not good. The doctor says she needs to stay away from Matilda.” Abel nodded. “We’ll take care of her, Joe. Don’t worry.” But Joe couldn’t help worrying. He was torn between taking care of his sick daughter and protecting his fragile wife. He felt like he was being pulled in two different directions, and he didn't know how to cope. Joe found himself shuttling between Deborah’s bedside and Matilda’s, trying to balance his care for both of them. It was exhausting, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way. He would take care of Matilda, then wash himself and go play with Deb. Deb needed her mother, and it broke his heart that they had to become separated as a baby. Matilda wasn’t having it easy too. Her strength faded as the absence of Deb overwhelmed her. She was hurting from the fact that she posed as a threat to her child. Her breasts began to hurt as mastitis and engorgement began to set in, making every movement a chore. She had tried to express some milk, but it wasn't enough to relieve the pressure. “I can’t do this anymore, Joe. I need my daughter.” But that seemed impossible. The news of Martha’s illness hit them all like a warning. The stress and worry took a toll on all of them, especially Joe, who already gave up on God. “God has to be a really wicked man.” He told his father. “But God is neither a man, nor is he wicked.” Abel answered. But Joe cared less. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t rest. He had to take care of his loved ones, irrespective of his thoughts towards God. As the days went by, Matilda’s condition worsened. The mastitis and engorgement had developed into a severe infection, and she was in excruciating pain. Joe did everything he could to comfort her, but it seemed like nothing was working. One night, as Joe sat beside Matilda’s bedside, holding her while struggling to stay awake, he saw a faint smile on her face. It was a weak smile, but it gave him hope until she spoke. “I’m going to meet Jesus.” Her smile widened as she stared at the ceiling. “Matilda, you’re going to be okay,” Joe whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “You’re going to get through this. We’re all going to get through this together.” But her body had been weakened by the illness, and she didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. As Joe held her hand, he felt her grip loosen, and her eyes closed for the last time. Joe’s world went dark. He felt like he was silently running mad. Did Jesus just come to take his wife from him? “Matilda.” It was too late. Matilda was gone, leaving Joe and rest of them to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives. …