Answer: At his mother's wake.
With having only that social networking site as a source of information, I learned through Facebook that my ex's mom died last January 24 because of complications brought by cancer. Together with my mom who was his teacher and a common friend, I went to the NSOLL mortuary last January 25 to pay last respects.
I never actually met his mom though I know her. Given the brief time of our relationship, I didn't have the chance to be introduced properly. Looking back, it seemed really pathetic of me to daydream about having a dinner with my beloved ex's family.
After a year of not being in touch with X, I argued with myself whether I will go and offer my condolences or not. Blame it on timidity or simply cowardice, but it even took me time to decide whether I go alone or not. In the end, I came to show sympathy in the most peculiar manner.
I neither hug him nor shake his hand as I told myself I would. I told myself that my presence would be enough. I just asked him where Karl, his nephew, the one I have been wanting to see, is. I just listened how he answered my two companions' queries about what happened. I noticed how tired he was and how he tried to be the joker (that he is) in spite of the situation. It was the worst time to express how I miss him, how happy I was that he got the job he wanted or even how I cried because Mommy's gone without knowing me. It was the worst time for selfishness so I shut myself up.
In silence, I observed what I expected to see. Daddy was busy talking to his friends from the church. Kuya JJ, with his wife Ate Reina, was fixing some papers. Kuya JP, the second child was running errands while talking with his schoolmates. Once upon a time, I dreamed of being a part of the family. I even proudly answered my companions' questions about who is who and whom is related to who in the family. For a moment, I thought that it was the best time to show-off.
The more I thought about what happened that night, the more I regretted not doing something and not saying anything. I realized how much I was afraid of death...how much I am afraid of a haunting past.
No comments:
Post a Comment