It's been a long time since we last had a long chat. These days we seem to try to catch up on each other early in the morning before I leave for work. I would always ask how you are doing even though I know the answer. You would always look at me, your eyes forlorn, your current fragile state breaking my heart to pieces. It's not easy for me to watch you go weak with each passing day; I have been used to seeing you wake up each morning earlier than anybody else, with that load of energy despite your age. I often wondered where you got that strength that allowed you to do numerous tasks without complaint.
Consecutive trips enriched my life, but it also made me poorer in understanding you. One day I was shocked to come back seeing you emaciated, your eyes no longer alert and shining. Words cannot describe how I feel. You seem lifeless, purposeless, friendless. You wouldn't eat, you refuse to listen when we repeatedly tell you to go to the doctor. You, who used to be strong as a bull, cannot even walk properly now.
I fear for what the future holds in store for us. Throughout my life, you were there. You saw me through my darkest, most bitter periods in my life. When blood and kin sought to hurt me, you were my sole comfort. You were the one who taught me early in my life, even with waves of rejection, coldness, cruelty, and all the challenges that come my way, are nothing if I put my faith in God. You sought to understand me, even in my most pitiful egocentric bitter state. Many would claim to know me but it is only you who always defended me from backstabbers, you the only one who testified to my goodness. It was grace. Perhaps we were meant to meet in this lifetime, because your faith in me changed me. I had a taste of grace because of your goodness and to this time it inspires me to be a better, not bitter, person.
This last weekend, I could have continued to do my volunteer work while in Pangasinan. We passed by Manaoag and I changed my mind and decided to stay inside the church to hear mass and to say a little prayer for you. I knownthat you'd be happy to learn that your little girl is back to going down on her knees with pleas to the Heavens, this time not for me but for you. Today after work, I found myself walking towards that church where I got a rosary last year on my birthday, as if my legs had life of their own. So I brought out my rosary and prayed the sorrowful mystery. How apt, when the two of us are in agony, you physically and me emotionally.
I am not prepared for this. But I guess your little girl will have to grow up now. Coming back home, finding you not there to welcome me has given me of a glimpse of a possibility I do not want to consider. Home feels cold, dark, awful without you.
Tears cannot stop flowing now as I write. Please do not leave me alone.
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