Struggle with the truth. (Tales and Diary chapters of Moccureed, chapter 3.)

On the day my Apo(mother of my mother) died, I felt my world crash down into a painful reality, the Sun seemed darker to me than it ever was, even if it was shining brightly as it could in the afternoon sky, I felt as if it was already night and the hot summer wind that blew right past me felt like a cold blizzard while my memories of both happy and sad flooded into my mind. I could no longer remember where I was or what I was doing, I ran to our house, I couldn't believe it and the more I couldn't accept it, the more I felt it was real.

I entered the house where I grew up for years, hoping she would be sitting at the table where she spends her afternoons, yes, I was hoping to see her smile and I was ready to trade anything to see her alive. By the time I got there ,there was no one home, I walked slowly around the house as I was gasping for breath, the truth was like a shovel being shoved slowly into my throat as I chocked up, there was nothing to break the silence but the the sound of my knees crashing towards the floor as I wept.

I gathered what was left of my strength and got up I kept telling myself that it must be a bad dream, i told myself that she must have been chatting with the neighbors. I usually feel happy every time I see the town Barber he has lots of good stories whether fictional or not, but when I got out of the house and saw him,
Tito Hen looked at me with a sad solemn face and told me that they took her to the morgue, at that same moment I felt my Soul leave ahead of my body, heading towards where she was,I kept lying to myself, telling myself that it was all a nightmare, but the more I lied, the more the truth tore me and it didn't stop crushing my already broken parts.

Again I ran through the farm, I remember the feeling of cold sweat rushing down my cheeks , frustrated ,I was numbed by the hard fall I took from slipping onto the Seed Beds in our farm, but nothing could add to the sadness that already broke me, with mud on my face and faded pride I couldn't help but cry for the first time since I was less than half a decade old, I was chocking on tears and the soil where baby plants were growing The taste of my blood never seemed more bitter, the confusion honestly made me feel as if my sanity was slipping away quickly. My Bapang Doro (My mother's elder brother) saw and rushed to get me up, He too was grieving and we took a tricycle to the morgue despite my appearance.

I couldn't accept the fact that she was dead, they wouldn't let me in the place where she was being prepared but despite restraints, I managed to get in, I couldn't believe that the once warm arms that held me were now cold and lifeless, Staring at her I couldn't move even if I wanted to.
At a young age, I was given wine to keep my nerves steady, they said it would help me relax, it did, but the questions kept running through my head as i kept asking myself "What now?"

They offered me a ride home but I chose to walk, on the way home, I could remember how I stared at my muddy hands, my vision was blurred by the tears that never stopped falling, I passed by the church, No one was there and as I walked towards the altar, my legs gave in, I kept asking the Altar before me...."Why? Why would you take the only thing I have left ?" I kept cursing and striking the floor with my hands but I was in total despair. The blood that was trickling down my forehead helped clear my head,
Just then I remembered how she said it would be a great joy to join our maker, I stood up and said...."Whether or not you exist, keep her happy..."

When I got home, I sat on her chair, I stared at the plants in her garden and recalled how someone once told me that love involves letting go, it took me more than a year to cheer up but I never got over it, each time I remember I keep telling myself that it's her happiness not mine that matters and that as long as she was happy, I'd have to be happy too, On almost every Sunday morning and most summer and vacation days, you'd never find me anywhere else but in the cemetery praying for the Soul that gave me a Heart.