The seamlessly searing morning of June is mere beyond, making plants and
trees withered; leaving dams and sees draining; and, letting humans and
animals alike seem helpless as the scorching sun vents. I awoke with
sweat seeping in me, troubled by the cry of my four-year-old child,
Chad. After those months I’ve spent reading articles regarding know-how
of parenting, mastering the basics I learned in college, and grasping by
heart advices I was told by my family and friends and some people
concerned; nothing of these all had prepared and welcomed me in the
world I was never ready and scares the most—to be a mom—to be a single
mom.
I met Elijah back on my first year in Institute of Nursing in FEU. We were classmates and since our surnames starts with same letter, we became seatmates and often belong to same group, that’s why knowing each other and becoming friends came as fast. We studied and did homework together, shared stories, confided secrets, and went out at times. And yes, we then became head over heels in love to one another. However, our relationship was not an exception to mishaps that life bequeaths.
It has almost been five years now since I found that I was conceiving, and it was during those times that I felt utterly alone, confused. “We will do everything we can to raise the child well. We will get a degree and have a good life… No… It’s we will have the best life. And as long as we have each other, we shall overcome challenges as they befall. I love you.” Those words were exactly what I needed to escape bewilderment I was contained. We survived the two months thereafter and since both of us were still students, we experienced rough times, especially when managing our time.
I started to experience morning sickness, became picky to foods and sometimes had difficulty in sleeping. Soon, the growing of the child inside me was becoming more visible. I began wearing loose clothes, cut classes often, and got upset most of the time. Moment came when I can no longer conceal the truth, so Elijah and I decided to confess everything to my mom.
“Anung bang nasa isip mo? Christina, you’ve witnessed how I suffered, how we struggled. Pero what have you done?” Even if my parents have separated when I was still in my 5th grade, my mom was able to raise my younger brother and I well. She showed us that life can still be great in spite of my dad’s absence. She has become our mother and father at the same time. Although we’re not financially stable, she has her ways in making us feel loved and complete. I know telling her the truth would break her heart, she has high hopes in me. This was the reason why seeing her crying makes me want to delete some parts of my life. If it’s only ever possible, trust me, I would. Yet still, my family accepted how my fate turned out. It may have taken long, but I’m indeed lucky to have them.
I was four months pregnant when I finished my third year, 1st semester, despite the odds. And as the class came to end, my relationship with Elijah has lost its sparks, also; he went straightly to province after the semester and left not even a word. I message and called him every day yet no responses from him, no signs of Elijah. I felt lost. “Nasaan na siya? Bakit niya ako iniwan? Wala ng saysay ang buhay ko. Paano na ako? Paano na ang anak ko? Ayokong lumaki din siya na walang kinikilalang ama. Paano? Paano ako magiging mabuting ina?”
Sun’s up, sun’s down. The succeeding months went slow motion. I feigned to be okay. I showed others that I was strong on my own. I can live without him. But other times, the hurt was just too much. Before, I only fear to feel the quickening of the baby, but soon, I started to fear people. Those stares [for criminals] they made as I walked and those words I overheard: “Sino ang ama? Nasaan na siya? Anong nangyari? Nako, ang bata pa naman nya. Sayang naman.” I can’t fathom why there are some who wouldn’t live without pestering others life. Why can’t they worry their issues first and have a life on their own! Then I break down. “I am sinful?” are the words I crumbled at. Again, I’m alone.
“Minsan nagsisisi ako na nag-Nursing ako. Hindi ko naman talaga ‘to gusto eh. But you know what, I’m thankful I did. Because if not, hindi kita makikilala. Stay with me forever, Christina.” How can he asked me to stay ‘forever’ when he doesn’t even know it? Such lame! I hate him! I hate him so much!
I ache remembering the past, but that grew me stronger and taught me lessons—lessons only in the hard way: I learned that promises would never mean an assurance, that future would not normally be the way we plan it, that love does not always end like fairy tales, and that words no matter how sweetly coated, has its way in wrecking a fragile heart. And thanks to him, I discerned that my family and Chad are the costly gifts from God, which can never be bought nor be trade. They’re invaluable.
I buried my thoughts of him—literally. I put his letters on box: those memorabilia I’ve kept, those stuff we bought, and our ring, together with our broken promises—I unearthed them all, and some of his gifts, which I’ve given away. But in as much as I want to bury memories to depths, there would be moments that would remind of him, seldom when I look at the baby, Elijah would appear as if he came out somewhere else distant. How could I not? Chad is the complete resemblance of his father: the cheeks, that deep eyes, his small yet pointed nose, and even his lips!
Tok tok. The knock on the door steals me from reverie, “Christina, get done fast. Den will fetch you in an hour,” Mom said. Haunted by past again, I make conscious effort to resign in my volition and dismiss nostalgia.
Den was a classmate of mine in my 6th grade; we were never really close, we were never really friends. He used to tease and copy my answers now and then; in return, I cry and fight him back by punching him (good thing he never punch me back). But that did not end there, we became classmates on our 2nd year high school, and that changed the childish we once were. We turned each other’s confidant, talked on phone for hours, seen the worst in both of us, and this time, teasing bonded us.
After high school, he immigrated in America. And because our place’s time gap, we rarely talked on phone, and if time permits, we chatted online. “I’ll be forever solo,” I mused.
But life loves making surprises; our communication became apparent when he discovered how my life came out. He then started calling me. “I’m sorry that you have to go through with that. I know words cannot ease the pain, but please know that you’re not alone, you got me here. You have me always.”
Den and I became closer again. The feeling of loneliness has slowly being forgotten. He’s been very supportive to me, he’s one of the few I can talk about everything, most importantly—he loves Chad. Occasionally, he sent toys and sometimes money for Chad. Even if I refused, he’ll insist. We’ll debate over it, but in the end, he’ll win.
I’m really glad seeing him. He will be staying here for one month. And for that one week that we’ve been together, I feel secured and happiness is at hand again. Bottom line, he’s here, he’s good for me... He makes me happy.
“How does it feel to be in school again?” Den asks.
I am fresh graduate of nursing and now pursuing Medicine. “I’m a bit nervous, but very much excited.” I smile at him.
I left him in the waiting area before I get to that long queue of enrollment. While savoring the torrid breeze of the afternoon, in my mind I’m rehearsing lines to tell him. After this enrollment, we’ll go to the fanciest restaurant, and there I’ll let him know that this time I’m ready to start anew, that I’m ready for love.
When the enrollment was done, I went over where he is. “Did I keep you waiting for long?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“So shall we now?”
He didn’t answer. He gazes at me. Slowly, takes my hand. He held my hands and smiles back. I allowed myself to be pulled close to him. These are the times that I’m deceived at best; whether by trick or by dream, I care not. I feel wonderful again and I know things are falling into right place now. Nothing to worry, just us.
As we head to the passenger waiting area, the cloud turned dark. Shortly, rain fell. We waited for minutes for the rain to stop, but the rain grew heavier. “I don’t want to end this day just as that,” I ponder. Yet, I weighed the options and decided to move our dinner instead. We still have our days ahead of us, anyway.
“Den, the rain won’t stop, perhaps it’s best to have it tomorrow.”
“Yeah, it looks so. I’ll drop you off home rather.”
“You don’t have to,” I lend him the umbrella. “Although you live only a few blocks from here, it’s you who need it. I can take the bus and it will drop me exactly at home,” I insisted.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He remarks with frustration.
The bus soon arrives. I kissed him on his cheeks. “I still had it great. Thanks.”
I climb and step on the bus. As I search for space to sit on, there he was... I wish I could have taken another bus, or jump off from here. But before I could stop the bus, it’s too late. He had seen me and offered the space beside him.
“Hi... How are you?...” Are the words he uttered with obvious shyness on his tone.
Of all people I have to meet by chance and sit beside, why him? Why Elijah? All the buried feelings came rushing. I wobble thinking of it all. I can hear my heart throbs rapidly. I felt a fishbone in my throat and afraid to sound tremble, I tried to stay collected, “I’m good.”
Then silence… Lub-dub, lub-dub… Splish, splash, sploosh… It’s all I hear: My heart still beating faster, the rain still getting heavier. This two-minute silence is taking forever. I hope I could vanish or just fade away.
Then he breaks the silence, “Kamusta na si baby?”
“Malaki na siya. Lumaki siya ng mabuti—lumaki siya ng mabuti ng walang ama.” I hear my voice shaking.
“Sorry… Hayaan mo naman akong magpaliwanag.”
“Magpaliwanag? Nang ano? Nang kasinungalingan? Ayokong marinig yan.”
He continued talking,“Nung umalis ako after nung sem, tinawagan ako nila Mama noon. Hindi na daw ako makakapag aral. Na-lay off si Papa. Kinailangan ko munang huminto para makatapos si Ate.”
“Bakit di mo sinabi noon? Ganon ba kakitid ang tingin mo sa akin para hindi ko maintindihan yun?”
“Huminto ako ng isa’t kalahating taon.”
“Sa tingin mo naging madali para sa akin lahat? Tiniis ko lahat ng mag-isa At kahit kalian, hindi mo maiintindihan yun, kasi wala kang puso. Sarili mo lang minahal mo!”
“Patawarin mo ako naging mahina ako.” He’s now sobbing.
Still resentful, “Tangina Elijah, hindi yun 5 weeks o 5 months, limang taon yun, Elijah, limang taon! Naatim mo yun? Anung klase kang ama?!”
“Maniwala ka, walang amang gugustuhing hindi makitang lumaki ang anak niya.”
“Ah kaya pala! Kaya pala ito ang nangyari? Elijah, tama na. Hindi mo alam ang sinasabi mo.”
“Naalala mo yung sinabi ko sayo nun? Na magtatapos tayong dalawa at bibigyan natin ng magandang buhay si baby. Nahihiya ako sayo. Nahihiya ako sa family mo na wala akong maitutulong.”
“Sinungaling ka!”
“Nag-shift ako. Nag-Accounting ako. Nag-aral ako sa probinsiya. Nagloko si Ate kaya nag working student ako.”
“Wala akong gusting paniwalaan sa mga sinasabi mo.”
“At ngayon tapos na ako, hinahanap ko kayo. Gusto kong makabawi, kahit sa pag-tulong pinansiyal lang. Gusto kong mapatawad niyo ako.”
“Ngayon pa? Ngayong masaya na ako? Guguluhin mo lang buhay namin.”
“Alam ko naman yun... Mahal na mahal ko kayo. Walang araw na hindi ko sinisisi ang sarili ko. Maniwala ka. Ni sarili ko nga hindi ko matustusan, kayo pa kaya? Nabalot ako ng pagkahiya at panghihina. Kasalanan ko lahat. Naging duwag ako. Pero gusto ko pa din humigi ng tawad sayo, kila Tita, at sa anak natin. Christina, kahit yun lang…”
I hear sincerity in his voice. I see pain in his eyes. Cut by his words, I submit to my emotions, tears welled up my eyes. Unguarded, I cry like a little child begging for a candy. I think of myself, I think of Chad, I think of Den —I think of Elijah. If this is a dream, can somebody wake me up? I want to get away from this nightmare. Now, I’m waging war, I’m waging for my life. I want my life back.
*My first short story written last June of 2010.
I met Elijah back on my first year in Institute of Nursing in FEU. We were classmates and since our surnames starts with same letter, we became seatmates and often belong to same group, that’s why knowing each other and becoming friends came as fast. We studied and did homework together, shared stories, confided secrets, and went out at times. And yes, we then became head over heels in love to one another. However, our relationship was not an exception to mishaps that life bequeaths.
It has almost been five years now since I found that I was conceiving, and it was during those times that I felt utterly alone, confused. “We will do everything we can to raise the child well. We will get a degree and have a good life… No… It’s we will have the best life. And as long as we have each other, we shall overcome challenges as they befall. I love you.” Those words were exactly what I needed to escape bewilderment I was contained. We survived the two months thereafter and since both of us were still students, we experienced rough times, especially when managing our time.
I started to experience morning sickness, became picky to foods and sometimes had difficulty in sleeping. Soon, the growing of the child inside me was becoming more visible. I began wearing loose clothes, cut classes often, and got upset most of the time. Moment came when I can no longer conceal the truth, so Elijah and I decided to confess everything to my mom.
“Anung bang nasa isip mo? Christina, you’ve witnessed how I suffered, how we struggled. Pero what have you done?” Even if my parents have separated when I was still in my 5th grade, my mom was able to raise my younger brother and I well. She showed us that life can still be great in spite of my dad’s absence. She has become our mother and father at the same time. Although we’re not financially stable, she has her ways in making us feel loved and complete. I know telling her the truth would break her heart, she has high hopes in me. This was the reason why seeing her crying makes me want to delete some parts of my life. If it’s only ever possible, trust me, I would. Yet still, my family accepted how my fate turned out. It may have taken long, but I’m indeed lucky to have them.
I was four months pregnant when I finished my third year, 1st semester, despite the odds. And as the class came to end, my relationship with Elijah has lost its sparks, also; he went straightly to province after the semester and left not even a word. I message and called him every day yet no responses from him, no signs of Elijah. I felt lost. “Nasaan na siya? Bakit niya ako iniwan? Wala ng saysay ang buhay ko. Paano na ako? Paano na ang anak ko? Ayokong lumaki din siya na walang kinikilalang ama. Paano? Paano ako magiging mabuting ina?”
Sun’s up, sun’s down. The succeeding months went slow motion. I feigned to be okay. I showed others that I was strong on my own. I can live without him. But other times, the hurt was just too much. Before, I only fear to feel the quickening of the baby, but soon, I started to fear people. Those stares [for criminals] they made as I walked and those words I overheard: “Sino ang ama? Nasaan na siya? Anong nangyari? Nako, ang bata pa naman nya. Sayang naman.” I can’t fathom why there are some who wouldn’t live without pestering others life. Why can’t they worry their issues first and have a life on their own! Then I break down. “I am sinful?” are the words I crumbled at. Again, I’m alone.
“Minsan nagsisisi ako na nag-Nursing ako. Hindi ko naman talaga ‘to gusto eh. But you know what, I’m thankful I did. Because if not, hindi kita makikilala. Stay with me forever, Christina.” How can he asked me to stay ‘forever’ when he doesn’t even know it? Such lame! I hate him! I hate him so much!
I ache remembering the past, but that grew me stronger and taught me lessons—lessons only in the hard way: I learned that promises would never mean an assurance, that future would not normally be the way we plan it, that love does not always end like fairy tales, and that words no matter how sweetly coated, has its way in wrecking a fragile heart. And thanks to him, I discerned that my family and Chad are the costly gifts from God, which can never be bought nor be trade. They’re invaluable.
I buried my thoughts of him—literally. I put his letters on box: those memorabilia I’ve kept, those stuff we bought, and our ring, together with our broken promises—I unearthed them all, and some of his gifts, which I’ve given away. But in as much as I want to bury memories to depths, there would be moments that would remind of him, seldom when I look at the baby, Elijah would appear as if he came out somewhere else distant. How could I not? Chad is the complete resemblance of his father: the cheeks, that deep eyes, his small yet pointed nose, and even his lips!
Tok tok. The knock on the door steals me from reverie, “Christina, get done fast. Den will fetch you in an hour,” Mom said. Haunted by past again, I make conscious effort to resign in my volition and dismiss nostalgia.
Den was a classmate of mine in my 6th grade; we were never really close, we were never really friends. He used to tease and copy my answers now and then; in return, I cry and fight him back by punching him (good thing he never punch me back). But that did not end there, we became classmates on our 2nd year high school, and that changed the childish we once were. We turned each other’s confidant, talked on phone for hours, seen the worst in both of us, and this time, teasing bonded us.
After high school, he immigrated in America. And because our place’s time gap, we rarely talked on phone, and if time permits, we chatted online. “I’ll be forever solo,” I mused.
But life loves making surprises; our communication became apparent when he discovered how my life came out. He then started calling me. “I’m sorry that you have to go through with that. I know words cannot ease the pain, but please know that you’re not alone, you got me here. You have me always.”
Den and I became closer again. The feeling of loneliness has slowly being forgotten. He’s been very supportive to me, he’s one of the few I can talk about everything, most importantly—he loves Chad. Occasionally, he sent toys and sometimes money for Chad. Even if I refused, he’ll insist. We’ll debate over it, but in the end, he’ll win.
I’m really glad seeing him. He will be staying here for one month. And for that one week that we’ve been together, I feel secured and happiness is at hand again. Bottom line, he’s here, he’s good for me... He makes me happy.
“How does it feel to be in school again?” Den asks.
I am fresh graduate of nursing and now pursuing Medicine. “I’m a bit nervous, but very much excited.” I smile at him.
I left him in the waiting area before I get to that long queue of enrollment. While savoring the torrid breeze of the afternoon, in my mind I’m rehearsing lines to tell him. After this enrollment, we’ll go to the fanciest restaurant, and there I’ll let him know that this time I’m ready to start anew, that I’m ready for love.
When the enrollment was done, I went over where he is. “Did I keep you waiting for long?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“So shall we now?”
He didn’t answer. He gazes at me. Slowly, takes my hand. He held my hands and smiles back. I allowed myself to be pulled close to him. These are the times that I’m deceived at best; whether by trick or by dream, I care not. I feel wonderful again and I know things are falling into right place now. Nothing to worry, just us.
As we head to the passenger waiting area, the cloud turned dark. Shortly, rain fell. We waited for minutes for the rain to stop, but the rain grew heavier. “I don’t want to end this day just as that,” I ponder. Yet, I weighed the options and decided to move our dinner instead. We still have our days ahead of us, anyway.
“Den, the rain won’t stop, perhaps it’s best to have it tomorrow.”
“Yeah, it looks so. I’ll drop you off home rather.”
“You don’t have to,” I lend him the umbrella. “Although you live only a few blocks from here, it’s you who need it. I can take the bus and it will drop me exactly at home,” I insisted.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He remarks with frustration.
The bus soon arrives. I kissed him on his cheeks. “I still had it great. Thanks.”
I climb and step on the bus. As I search for space to sit on, there he was... I wish I could have taken another bus, or jump off from here. But before I could stop the bus, it’s too late. He had seen me and offered the space beside him.
“Hi... How are you?...” Are the words he uttered with obvious shyness on his tone.
Of all people I have to meet by chance and sit beside, why him? Why Elijah? All the buried feelings came rushing. I wobble thinking of it all. I can hear my heart throbs rapidly. I felt a fishbone in my throat and afraid to sound tremble, I tried to stay collected, “I’m good.”
Then silence… Lub-dub, lub-dub… Splish, splash, sploosh… It’s all I hear: My heart still beating faster, the rain still getting heavier. This two-minute silence is taking forever. I hope I could vanish or just fade away.
Then he breaks the silence, “Kamusta na si baby?”
“Malaki na siya. Lumaki siya ng mabuti—lumaki siya ng mabuti ng walang ama.” I hear my voice shaking.
“Sorry… Hayaan mo naman akong magpaliwanag.”
“Magpaliwanag? Nang ano? Nang kasinungalingan? Ayokong marinig yan.”
He continued talking,“Nung umalis ako after nung sem, tinawagan ako nila Mama noon. Hindi na daw ako makakapag aral. Na-lay off si Papa. Kinailangan ko munang huminto para makatapos si Ate.”
“Bakit di mo sinabi noon? Ganon ba kakitid ang tingin mo sa akin para hindi ko maintindihan yun?”
“Huminto ako ng isa’t kalahating taon.”
“Sa tingin mo naging madali para sa akin lahat? Tiniis ko lahat ng mag-isa At kahit kalian, hindi mo maiintindihan yun, kasi wala kang puso. Sarili mo lang minahal mo!”
“Patawarin mo ako naging mahina ako.” He’s now sobbing.
Still resentful, “Tangina Elijah, hindi yun 5 weeks o 5 months, limang taon yun, Elijah, limang taon! Naatim mo yun? Anung klase kang ama?!”
“Maniwala ka, walang amang gugustuhing hindi makitang lumaki ang anak niya.”
“Ah kaya pala! Kaya pala ito ang nangyari? Elijah, tama na. Hindi mo alam ang sinasabi mo.”
“Naalala mo yung sinabi ko sayo nun? Na magtatapos tayong dalawa at bibigyan natin ng magandang buhay si baby. Nahihiya ako sayo. Nahihiya ako sa family mo na wala akong maitutulong.”
“Sinungaling ka!”
“Nag-shift ako. Nag-Accounting ako. Nag-aral ako sa probinsiya. Nagloko si Ate kaya nag working student ako.”
“Wala akong gusting paniwalaan sa mga sinasabi mo.”
“At ngayon tapos na ako, hinahanap ko kayo. Gusto kong makabawi, kahit sa pag-tulong pinansiyal lang. Gusto kong mapatawad niyo ako.”
“Ngayon pa? Ngayong masaya na ako? Guguluhin mo lang buhay namin.”
“Alam ko naman yun... Mahal na mahal ko kayo. Walang araw na hindi ko sinisisi ang sarili ko. Maniwala ka. Ni sarili ko nga hindi ko matustusan, kayo pa kaya? Nabalot ako ng pagkahiya at panghihina. Kasalanan ko lahat. Naging duwag ako. Pero gusto ko pa din humigi ng tawad sayo, kila Tita, at sa anak natin. Christina, kahit yun lang…”
I hear sincerity in his voice. I see pain in his eyes. Cut by his words, I submit to my emotions, tears welled up my eyes. Unguarded, I cry like a little child begging for a candy. I think of myself, I think of Chad, I think of Den —I think of Elijah. If this is a dream, can somebody wake me up? I want to get away from this nightmare. Now, I’m waging war, I’m waging for my life. I want my life back.
*My first short story written last June of 2010.
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