The Day I Dreaded Most as a Child Came

That day came without notice. In fact, it hadn’t even started yet as I was still in bed when the call from Gigi, my sister-in-law, came telling me she’s gone. My dear Inang, 100kms away from us, succumbed to heart failure due to asthma, 19 years ago today.

I don’t remember anymore how I responded. Half awake, it jolted all my senses. A few minutes later, we were all up, calling everyone. In a few more, we were on the road to Bataan. My mind wandered. What happens now? I was numb.

My mother lived with asthma all her life. I’ve seen her suffer, grasp for air during attacks. It was painful even for a little child like me then to see her in such pain. She endured with all her might —for us, until she couldn’t anymore. That pain died with her, of course, but a new one replaced it. The pain of not being able to see or touch her again —still resides in me. 

I can live with this pain if it’s the only thing that reminds me of you, Inang. A lovely soul left this world for a place you never have to endure any.

I’ve never heard you tell me I was a good son. I didn’t ask you to do so because you showed it much. It doesn’t matter now. I can just look up in the sky, and even in this world’s madding noise, I’d hear you say in my deepest core, “I love you, my boy. You’re a good son.”

This I believe because I have kept you there, closest to my heart, where no noise could ever drown out.

I love you, too, Inang. Cheers!

If you’ve been touched, amused, or entertained by this post, or it put a smile on your face, please favor me with a cup of coffee. I will continue writing.

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