All That's Left is Memories

My feet on the frame of the window and my hands crossed under my head.

I am thinking. I have so many things running in my head; just too many that I think nothing anymore.

I looked outside and saw clouds moving in the vast sky.

The wind was blowing hard. The curtains attached on the window sidings loosen up and got blown flying by the wind. I could smell a very good scent on it. A scent so familiar yet I can't tell what was it or where it came from. All I know is the wind brought that scent in and somehow, it's helping me to take a good breath. This sadness I can't compare. It's as if I am living a life that is lifeless. I always wonder how I will make a walk in a road so dark and gloomy. I bet I might crawl but no, I think I might not move a muscle at all. The wind is still blowing and I suppose it's whispering the names of the dead.

 It's been how many days already. 

May 25, 2013, it's been three days after burial and I am missing someone so dear to me.

It is, was a picture perfect family - a responsible and caring father; an understanding and loving mother, a supportive and ideal sister; and me - buffoon and sweet damn ass. It's a small family - a family of four but it's bright and happy. Of course, there are always flaws on whoever we are and I am considering it to the family I belong. My father become an alcohol dependent for about 11 years until I am writing this; My Mom being too much of an overprotective person that it would smother me already; The 'best' moment I had with my sister - arguments. Despite it all, we are happy. We attend mass together; go to the beach at least once a month together; go to some parks together; go to malls and shop together, watch cinemas together, eat together, laugh together; go back to house together and sleep together. The best thing about everything is we do things together. I am happy and contented. I can't ask for more.

It happened three years ago that I and my sister were asked by Mom to give her company going to the hospital. It's not something that really bothered us because we visit our doctor for annual checkup, or maybe not annual, twice or thrice a year. And just the usual thing, the doctor asked us one by one privately - one after the other. It was all so good then my Mom went out from the doctor's office as she was the last for consultative talks. I noticed how her eyes were reddish and how shaky her hands as I held her. Of course, my sister noticed it too. We were both wondering but Mom just told us to ignore it and we ate lunch together before going home. Papa, that time, was busy so when we returned back to our home and papa was there, Mom told him first. I knew what I have to know as I heard it from the other side - I was eavesdropping. "Hon," Mom said as she was referring to my Pop. They were in the room and I was outside sneaking like a thief. "...I have cancer - breast cancer.", as Mom continued. I was just right there frozen, so does my time. I get the feeling that Pop was experiencing the same way because the moment of silence was longed.

The first thing I felt was fear. I feel fear and every inch of my nerve felt it too. My skin was cold as ice and breathing seemed to be so hard. I have known that such disease is near incurable. It's like borrowing 5 feet of earth below the ground right then and there upon knowing an illness like that. I have known that there are survivors from it but survivors are less in number than those who haven't survived. The moment I heard the word I think I left my sanity. Distance and dimension was absent. It's just fear. I was not prepared on what I heard and my thoughts were suspended. At that time, I felt like I regret it that I listened to it.

"What did the doctor say?" my Pop said from the other room. I could hear from his voice his broken heart. I could smell it. I could taste it from where I was standing.