What went wrong?

I guess I will never forget the day when I was sitting on the roof of our house watching sparrows searching the empty little plate that had their feed and the pot of water for them. It was empty for our mother was in the hospital for severe side effects for her 5th course of injections in her chemotherapy for her breast cancer. I and our sister were the only ones at home while every one was in the hospital with her. The night before she was rushed by 1122 Emergency Rescue services' ambulance to the hospital. I was content that this ambulance service will save her life unlike our father who had passed away on a bus terminal having a cardiac arrest. I always cursed our country for lacking facilities which our father had opted to quit for moving back to Pakistan after completing his Ph. D. in Belgium. I always thought that our father chose his death coming to him at a bus terminal helplessly when he decided to leave developed Belgium and moved to developing Pakistan. But I see that in our mother's case, the same advanced rescue service (now available in Pakistan) did not save our mother's life. Now I think had she accepted my plea to immigrate to the West 3 years back as I always tried to convince her may have saved her life now for I suspect that an unbalanced and unmonitored doze of 'MABRAXIL' (spellings not sure) may have taken her life. Hospitals in the West may have been more caring in monitoring the toxicity in her body due to the ongoing chemotherapy. Our father passed away on the 25th of January, 2002. Seeing our mother's sickness, I was suspecting that she may be passing away on the same date. I had a dream of seeing our childhood home and our childhood servant telling me that both of our parents are asleep. This dream came to me on the 25th of January this year. I often see this childhood home of ours in my dreams. I was kind of shaken by this dream but I was content that our mother passed that date and that she will live a long life and that she will beat her breast cancer. But this time she took each passing day after 25th of January this year as the time to step the 9 bounds that our father passed through to reach the heavens. She just wanted to be with our father back in the heavens. May be she wanted herself described by me in my journal right next to the one where I mention our father's demise titled: 9 BOUNDS TO HEAVEN. I had dreamed of our mother's sickness 4 years back. I cried hugging her seeing as the most beautiful woman I ever met in my dream on the day she was diagnosed breast cancer. I guess my precognition had warned me of her plight 4 years in advance and then about her death as we got to know about her sickness. But I always thought she will be fine. If Rhonda has beaten cancer once and Astrid has beaten it thrice then why could not our mother have beaten it. But it did not happen. Our mother just leapt the 9 bounds and went to sleep back with our father. I will not forget the way my sisters cried for her. I can not forget the way our near and distant aunts hugged me after her death with tears in their eyes. They searched for her in our eyes and our facial features. I will never forget their kisses. It was like they were kissing the woman who was once alive and whom they loved. I will never forget the number of people who gathered in the funeral. I had not even seen them before this. She was loved by family, friends and neighbours. No one ever managed to hate her. Why will God take her than her older mother (our maternal grand mother)? The last time I saw our mother was in her bed as she was directing our sister to give me clean clothes. I will never forget the shaky voice of our cousin Salman in which he broke the news of her passing away to me. Could a dialysis have removed the toxicity in her body which had been a result of chemotherapy? I will never forget the mention of a young doctor who gave her a CPR for 45 minutes to bring her back to life. Could defibrilators have brought her back to life? What went wrong?