Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed through life trying to save. - Will Rogers

my mother was making faces at me and i remember thinking, does she still remember me? i finally woke up to the 24th and tried not to think about what day it was. sadly i cannot recall what i did last year on the same day.

as i walked along paseo, already very late for my 5am shift, i couldn't stop the sobs that kept coming out of my mouth short of gagging myself. i tried to remember any memories of that day but i couldn't. all i could see was my mom on a wheelchair with an oxygen mask on her face. but it's all wrong. my mother stopped walking around january almost a day after we left again for manila. i still remember the despair on her voice when she told me on the phone. the more i tried to remember what i did on that day, the more it became elusive. the more frustrated i became. i wanted to call my sister and ask but that would be cruel. we're all trying not to think about what or who is missing that day.

i couldn't seem to say merry or happy christmas. i just said yeah to whoever said it to me. i wanted to go home early. close the door and sleep on it. i don't want to see my landlady and hear another merry greeting. this season is not kind to those who are trying to forget. the christmas cards i bought are all sitting on my table. unsent. apart from my name, the usual hello and goodbyes. i don't know what else to write.

as early as 3pm on christmas eve my neighbors were already warming up for their semi-finals night. or so it feels like to me. i was seriously beginning to hate magic sing. new years eve would be the finals night. i 'm sure.

as it turned out new year was the worst. i turned off my cellphone to stop the incessant ringing and wish i had something to stuff my ears with. i keep expecting a whistle bomb to go through my window. the noise didn't die down until about 4am. i don't know who won but my neighbors sang like there would be no more videoke nights in 2008.

new year was the worst. i tried to read a book to lull me to sleep but i picked up sugar daddy (lisa kleypas). i was crying when i got the part when her mother died and she had to pick a coffin. it was so damned difficult. i remember the phone call by my auntie melda and my brother. i was still in manila but we need to decide on my mother's coffin. she was trying to tell me what kind of coffin they'd pick for her. it was white and it looks nice. i couldn't breathe past the lump on my throat because i was trying hard not to picture my mom inside a coffin. it was so hard to deal with when you're hundres of miles away. i felt claustrophobic.

her memories are like water trying to escape out of my cupped hands. the more i hold on to it, the faster it leaked down my palms. i tried to remember how she smelled, how she looked, the sound of her voice. i tried to picture our happier times together but it just made me feel worst. worst than i've ever been when i heard she's gone. i wanted to go home and look at her picture. i was afraid i'd already forgotten. i am on the threshold of 2008 but my other foot refused to step off of 2007. i am stuck in its memories.

the beginning of 2008 is like a clock that's ticking off. counting. ticking until it reaches another may. another month and another day i want to forget. somedays i wonder why i can't just let go. some people just moved on, i don't bloody understand why i can't do the same.

may 2007 is my inflection point. my views changed. i stopped giving a damn. i don't give a rat's ass about what others think. screw them. when you're in so much pain, you get blind to almost everything else. it's the experience that changes the course of your life. it could either break you or make you. as for me i think i must be hell bent on destroying myself. all my self destructive tendencies came out after my mom died. if i didn't make a promise to take care of my brother, i would have ultimately stopped caring. i worry him sometimes. i think instead of taking care of him, he takes care of me.





Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.


--Mary Elizabeth Frye