tears for mamang

TEARS FOR MAMANG

When she finally drifted off to eternal sleep on her bed, with my arms around her shoulders, I shred a few tears but I wiped it dry immediately.

During the funeral itself, I dared not to look at the faces of my family, my relatives, but instead, I focused on my assignment - to capture that moment of mixed sadness and joy. A lone tear escaped, though.

Last night, I was looking at the window separating our rooms. Somehow automatically, my mind went down through memory lane, and visions of her flashed through my mind. Next thing I know, I was crying. It was sad, and it was painful, and it was heart-breaking. The grief was too much, and I slept through it.

The truth that she is really gone, that whenever I enter their house I would not see her on the bed anymore, that this Christmas I would not put her in the list of persons I would buy gifts for, and that every February 16, she won't be able to slice the cake herself anymore...it is finally getting into me. It's like I only realized it yesternight.

And until now, even here at work, my eyes are still puffy.