Invictus

Has it been four years now since Mama left with no sweet goodbye? It's so four years yet pangs of pain still haunts me every time I tell the story of how she died. Let me try my resilience this time (I usually do this every year). I was in my fourth year in college that time. It was the 16th day of July, the Feast day of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Parents' day was also celebrated by our department on that same day. And I was also tasked to attend a renewal of contract for my scholarship. And since there were two events that need parents to attend the meetings, I decided not to invite my parents. (Papa wouldn't go for sure.) And true enough, on the day before the said events, they were arguing who should go. (And I am pretty sure they were arguing about the expenses going to the city.) The events had gone by without any of them. I received a message from Koko (chasingfireflies) that I should need to come home immediately, and so I did. I knew from the sound of it, something wasn't right. If she's going to tell me something, she could have waited for me in the store (we both worked in Greenwich Pizza that time) until her shift would end and I will be taking over. I waited for her outside the house, she was riding a motorcycle and I can see from her face a bad news coming. I waited for her to talk. She was out of words, She cried in between her words. I even interrupted her, asking if something happened to my Grandpa or Grandma. But to my dismay, she said no. When she uttered the word "Mama", I fell down on my knees. I trembled, I cried, I winced and screamed out loud. I didn't know, how long I have stayed that way. Nothing made sense that time. My eyes were clouded with tears, that shame didn't even matter. I didn't know who heard my cries and I really didn't care if they have seen my worst.

It was my mother. It was my mother who was gone. And losing a mother is more than losing a first love. Losing a mother means losing your hope and half of your life. It's not just simply a heartbreak. It's more than that. It made me paralyze for awhile. My brain cells had stopped functioning. All I remembered was, I questioned God for His existence. WHY? WHY? WHY? Why her? It could have been easier if it was a different person. Not that I don't love Papa but it could have been a lot acceptable. It would still be painful. Yes. Deaths are painful. That's the truth. I accepted long before, that our lives are really not ours. But I was just not prepared. I really didn't see it coming.

I could have been the eldest of six. But baby Invictus didn't make it. Things that were not really meant for us. Things that were meant to be accepted. Things that will remain in our cognizance for as long as we shall live.