yesterday, i was late again to work and that's like another 2 hours after my shift. lately, waking up is a struggle. dreams are beginning to be vaguer. the value of rest is deappreciating. while getting sleep is harder to get every night (blame it to my 2am shift that is supposed to be 4am!). the thought of waking up early is overshadowing everything that dreams offer.
its quite odd that i am experiencing this despite academic life being absent from the considerations. anyhow, i still went to work yesterday because the concern with my salary that i will be receiving the next pay day. after rendering 7 unpaid hours and 10 unworked hours (absent), i will be shorter than before.
after my shift, a friend texted me to visit another friend's grand mother who was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer last january. the visit was supposed to be a week ago but because of some schedule conflict among us, we have postponed it twice. considering the fact that i easily get depressed on such events in life and quite exhausted after my 11 hours work shift, i finally paid them a visit.
the trip was about an hour and a half. we were already on the gate of their subdivision when our friend texted us that her grandmother just passed away. we were nailed outside the tricycle. the driver was actually raising his voice and asked us several times already where are we heading? on that moment, we couldn't think of the name of the street. all we know, it is a currency name. rupee, dollar, dinar... when a lady asked us if is it dinar? after overhearing us about the death of our friend's grandmother. we suddenly realized, it was dinar. so she was also shocked about the new we uttered. so happened taht they were neighbors with our friend.
by the time, we reached our friend's house, you'll feel the ackward silence and gloominess on the place which is very unusual. since their house happens to be our drinking venue everytime we are in manila. memories on this house for me, are filled with laughters and happy stories. it saddened me such memories to crumbled down and see it only a gloomy white stone house.
our friend met us at the gate of their house. the usual glow, we usually greet to one another was no longer there. but i understood or am i really?
i just thought if only i came a little bit early, probably i will still be able to see her grandmother would be.
all she could do was blankly stare and hug us. then pour all of her tears on our shoulders. i really don't know what to do or how to pacify the extreme emotions she was feeling. for the simple reason, that we seldom have these kinds of events together and we failed to prepare for it. for a moment, i felt i lacked for something that friends do for one another. probably, care, empathy, hope, i don't know. it seems like everything was rushing on the top of my head, making it difficult to hit the right approach to do for her. if only i came 5 minutes early. probably, i would still be able to take a glimpse on her grandmother.
when everyone went inside the room to view for the last time our friend's grandmother, i decided to stay in the living room. thinking alone, probably confused. i suddenly noticed on the corner of the room, i saw my friend's grand father staring blankly nowhere and silently assuming nothing big actually happened. as if he finally accepted death to happen to his wife. i admire him for calmness and bravely facing the death of her wife.
after a while, the priest just arrived and made the final ceremony for every catholic on my friend's grand mother. i was still standing and seriously listen to the sermon outside the room. after the ritual each of us was handed a bottle of holy water to sprinkle the body. i was also forced to do it out of respect. eventhough i am really scared to look at a dead body. the last person happened to be my friend's grandfather, still calm. he slowly approached his wife and do her his last favor.
suddenly, the calmness slowly faded and soft sobs were heard. the man was already bursting into tears. i could hear my friend's grand father whisperring while struggling against his sobs," i've told you were going to fight this. i've told you were going to survive together. why did you let go?"
the scene was simply unbearable. struggling with my tears not to fall, my feet carried me into their veranda. i lit my last stick of cigarette staring on a grasshopper on the top of a box that was piled up on the corner until it suddenly flew in the darkness. on that moment, i realized how inevitable death could be. whereas, it is a matter of bravely preparing one's self by the time it would knock on our life: a matter of time not to be wasted and opportunities not to pass away.
i've told myself i will no longer be late for anything again and try cherishing everything that would come. this is not as a promise but more of an action that i will persevere to do. there goes my last hits.