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If death is certain, then why is it dreadful?
Forest Gump once said, "Life is like a box of chocolate, you'd never know what you're gonna get."
I could begin this entry with a string of descriptive words and terms entailing the philosophical nuances about the manifestation of life. Unfortunately, such simple articulation of thought couldn't come easily because I am still trapped in the news from yesterday.
Life is precarious.
At the age of 5 months old and still in its feeble fetal form, floating in her mother's womb, a baby's fate is predetermined. The baby does not know of it yet, but the mother has begun mourning over the loss of her own blood and flesh. The little soul now has a name, she is Savahn, it means Heaven, and that's where she will soon be for as long as her soul exists.
One of my best friends is 7 months pregnant, a mother-to-be, expecting the best in the world for her baby. Unfortunately, her hope and joy is short-lived, fleeting through like a glimpse of sunlight on a starkly gray winter day, for she knows upon giving birth the baby will die within a few days. What a courageous mother she is, knowing the daughter's fate and still determine to give the baby its full life. How can you fathom such pain? The kind of pain that is so abysmal to measure but yet so devastatingly significant.
Life is unfair.
Vivid memories brought back the painful moments of five years ago, the day when I learned of her mother's death. Pushing everything aside, I rushed to the hospital, just to be with her at that particular moment. Both of us, and so was her younger sister, sitting in the acrid hospital's waiting room. I was lost with words and numb with pain and distress. Nothing I could do to control the tears.
Life is unpredictable.
Five years later, she is mourning for the loss of her own blood and flesh, which is still alive in her womb. I don't know how to articulate such pain because it has never occurred to me. How do you cure the emotional pain? How do you pinpoint the exact location of to where it hurts? It is abysmal and bottomless. How do you explain the significance of things like this in one's life? Like..what is the "brighter" side of it all? If this is the dark tunnel, what is there waiting for her at the end of it?
I don't know the answers to all the questions. Perhaps she does not want the answers at all for they can't do justice to heal the open, yet invisible, wound in her heart. Perhaps all she needs right now is to have the shoulders for her to lean on and so we both just cry to no ends.
My only wish is to be there with her at this moment and to be her solace.
Life is ephemeral. Pain is perpetual.
.
.
.
I could begin this entry with a string of descriptive words and terms entailing the philosophical nuances about the manifestation of life. Unfortunately, such simple articulation of thought couldn't come easily because I am still trapped in the news from yesterday.
Life is precarious.
At the age of 5 months old and still in its feeble fetal form, floating in her mother's womb, a baby's fate is predetermined. The baby does not know of it yet, but the mother has begun mourning over the loss of her own blood and flesh. The little soul now has a name, she is Savahn, it means Heaven, and that's where she will soon be for as long as her soul exists.
One of my best friends is 7 months pregnant, a mother-to-be, expecting the best in the world for her baby. Unfortunately, her hope and joy is short-lived, fleeting through like a glimpse of sunlight on a starkly gray winter day, for she knows upon giving birth the baby will die within a few days. What a courageous mother she is, knowing the daughter's fate and still determine to give the baby its full life. How can you fathom such pain? The kind of pain that is so abysmal to measure but yet so devastatingly significant.
Life is unfair.
Vivid memories brought back the painful moments of five years ago, the day when I learned of her mother's death. Pushing everything aside, I rushed to the hospital, just to be with her at that particular moment. Both of us, and so was her younger sister, sitting in the acrid hospital's waiting room. I was lost with words and numb with pain and distress. Nothing I could do to control the tears.
Life is unpredictable.
Five years later, she is mourning for the loss of her own blood and flesh, which is still alive in her womb. I don't know how to articulate such pain because it has never occurred to me. How do you cure the emotional pain? How do you pinpoint the exact location of to where it hurts? It is abysmal and bottomless. How do you explain the significance of things like this in one's life? Like..what is the "brighter" side of it all? If this is the dark tunnel, what is there waiting for her at the end of it?
I don't know the answers to all the questions. Perhaps she does not want the answers at all for they can't do justice to heal the open, yet invisible, wound in her heart. Perhaps all she needs right now is to have the shoulders for her to lean on and so we both just cry to no ends.
My only wish is to be there with her at this moment and to be her solace.
Life is ephemeral. Pain is perpetual.
.
.
.