Earlier you’ve talked about that incident 13 years ago when we woke up and saw both you and papa covered in blood.
Unlike papa who didn’t wake up until the third day, you were conscious when we brought you to the local hospital. Blood was dripping out of the three deep wounds on your face and you started uttering some words of goodbyes to me. Somehow, the words that came out of my mouth then were:
“You’re not gonna die Ma, I haven’t graduated yet.”
You paused. Stared at the ceiling. And then ordered me to find ice to stop the bleeding because the nurse couldn’t attend to you yet.
When I came back, you told me:
“I’m not gonna die, you haven’t graduated yet.”
It was as if I knew exactly how to keep you fighting, and I’m really glad you did.
This was just one of the tragic things that happened in your life that I witnessed while I was growing up. I sometimes ask myself how could one person be allowed to suffer so much in her lifetime? And how you got through each and every one of them will forever be a mystery to me.
After this incident, you lost a part of yourself that I always looked up to. For years, the smart, confident and sophisticated working mother I knew started to avoid mirrors, afraid of facing the camera, overly conscious and often silent and the usual smiles became rare.
These days, seeing you taking selfies, putting on make up again, happily buying some nice clothes that fit you well, working in the office, having fun dancing with your colleagues and taking time to meet up old friends mean a lot to me. Those simple things make me happy and relieved.
Thanks for keeping yourself strong for us. I hope you’re paying more attention to yourself and your happiness now. Just hang in there till the next few days of lockdown and you will see your beloved plants again soon.