It was a bleak, hot Monday morning

It was a bleak, hot Monday morning. While my sister and I was waiting outside our house for the jeep that was going to take us to school, my aunt came over. Her eyes were swollen but very calmly she said that we will be skipping school that day and she was going to take us to the hospital where my father was taken.

My father collapsed the day before. Good neighbors took him to the hospital. My mother who wasn’t home at that time went directly to the hospital when she found out. We, kids, stayed home and waited. Another aunt stayed with us during the night to take care of us especially my 9 month old baby brother, JC, since neither one of my parents came home that night.

Quietly, we changed from our school uniform. My aunts decided that my baby brother will have to stay home for now.

We arrived at the hospital. In the ICU, my father was lying in the hospital bed. My mother was seated right next to him, silently crying. I can remember a lot more people in the room but aside from my aunt, I can’t remember who they were.

I went closer. I looked at my mother and softly greeted her, ‘Happy Birthday, Ma’. She did not respond. It strucked to me that it was probably not proper to greet her considering the situation, but then she probably needed it. Afterall it was her birthday.

I looked at my father. He was making odd sounds. We were told that my father had a stroke. A vein at the back of his neck burst and caused internal bleeding. Overnight, he had lost his ability to speak or see or move any part of his body. We were encouraged though to speak to him because they said, he could still hear us. My sister was crying so loudly. Someone was with her comforting her, trying to answer all her questions in between her sobs.

I went closer and I whispered  to my father’s ears something like “Pa, dito na kami. Pagaling ka na!” (Pa, We’re here. Be well). I can still remember so well how I felt that time. I felt like my chest was tightening and my throat, stiff, and I had hard time breathing.

A few more moments passed, then I heard a long beep sound. The monitor flat lined. My mother’s crying became louder. Just then, I heard from outside my other aunt yelling, ‘Dito na si JC’ (JC’s here). She must have been phoned to bring my baby brother to the hospital.

It happened so fast. As the long beep sound continued, the hospital staff came in and we were dragged outside the room. My aunt who was carrying JC did not even have the chance to get inside. My mother and everyone else were taken to the sitting area. I stood by the glass window just outside the room where I could see my father.

Through the glass window, I saw them try to revive my father. But he wasn’t responding. Nothing seemed to change. I couldn’t remember their faces but I remember them shaking their heads. I guess someone heard me crying. That someone took me where everyone else was.

It was a bleak, hot Monday morning 16 years ago. My father died that morning. He was 41. Our lives will never be whole again.

Pa, I miss you so much! I never told you that I love you. I wish I did. You are still a major influence in my life. I followed your advice growing up, to make good choices. If only you could see me now, you can be proud of me.

Ma, Happy Birthday! You deserve to be happy today on your birthday and all the days of your life. Thank you! You have made us through difficult times with your kindness and strength in character. You have made us strong. You are the best mother, the best friend one can ever have. I love you!

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