Moving On

There is probably no better time in the year to reflect on your life than the end of every year, mostly of its symbolical value than its place in the calendar.

In my entire life, 2010 has been one of the most colorful years, if not the most. Frankly, I frequently wished for this year to end already. There are no pinewood trophies for this year, but unforgettable events were a plenty. This year saw me almost reached the brink of insanity, though how close I was to it I could never explain nor tell. Suffice it to say that I have been carrying crosses with me for long years already, and too early at that according to some people, and learning that my mother has cancer pushed me to despair, thinking I would never really have a comfortable life, not in this year nor in the many years ahead. The remaining hope I have was finally crushed, and there was nothing left but misery.

Eventually, I was able to surpass that desperate stage. I practically forced my tour to California and Las Vegas, lest I lose myself. It was an attempt to escape, even for a while. Truthfully, I was able to gather myself, accepting things as they are. There is really a virtue in restraint, in looking at things from a reasonable distance.

But of the whole year, there is one day I would never forget--the day I learned my mother was stricken with cancer. Up to this day, it remains as fresh as if it happened yesterday:

Fast-forward to holy week, and I was just glad I could finally rest. The whole year was so taxing, and at times, I felt like I've lost all my will and energy. This was the week I've been waiting for: the first week without school, without work.

But the holy week hadn't ended yet when I learned of the bad news. With a gloomy face, Dad asked me to come to my room, and then closed the door. I knew it was going to be a serious talk. He sat on my bed, and I sat on the sofa; we were about 5 meters away from each other. I do not like serious, sad talks. I would run away from it if I could, especially when it comes to family.

I asked Dad what it was about. “Your Mom has cancer. We just didn't tell you before because you were having your finals.” I was silent. As my father was telling me the news, his voice was breaking, the kind of voice you hear when one doesn't want to cry but he just cannot help it. Then he cried. It was the first time I saw him cry, and it was heart-breaking, like a dagger in my heart. I never wanted to see him and my mom hurt, and there he was crying in front of me. I wanted to tell him everything's gonna be alright, but I remained frozen in my seat. My own heart was exploding inside, but my face remained expressionless. I wanted to hug him, but I just couldn't move. (parts from killing me softly)

It has been a struggle since that day, a struggle in all aspects. Come January, my mother will have her last chemotherapy then radiation therapy. Afterward, she would continue taking oral chemo for 5 years. That she would complete her chemo, especially when she was diagnosed with severe depression, was a victory in itself. For that, I have the Lord and so many people to thank for. If there's one thing I am very thankful for, it is that our lives are still moving on.

There are much I would still continue wishing for this coming 2011. Specifically, I wish for health, for I and my family know its true value. I wish for wealth or at least a comfortable life. I wish for love, in all aspects of our lives. And most importantly, I wish for peace of mind. Nothing I would not give for peace of mind.

But these things depend largely on fate, or on so many other people, though I could seriously try to accomplish them all. For now, I could only wish for them and step-by-step move forward to them. For the thing "accomplishable", I would strive to pass all my law subjects. For my lifelong dream, I would still continue to dream of flying.


Note. I really wanted to do this post, but jeanny's contest realized it.