Why do I Cry Today?

Today is September 18^th, thirty days from now is October 18^th, would be my child's 4^th birthday. If fate has been favorable to me, I would be so excited planning and preparing for my little girl's party. I could buy her new clothes and shoes, invite her playmates, or even treat her out to a fantastic theme park... but that's not the hands of time for me these days. She's been gone so early in her child's life by a silent-killer disease, bronchial asthma. It was not so long ago when I last heard her struggling voice shouting "Mamaaa!" as she coughs. It was just four months ago.

There's no other pain in my life seeing my only girl dying. I knew she keeps on fighting for her acquired illness, up to the very last moments of her in this world. If only I could give her my own respiratory system just to make her survive. As a mother, I would do anything to make her comfortable. Yet, that moment of her was really beyond my control.

On losing her, most of my dreams became a castle built in the sand. Dreams that I have set so clear, so wonderful, yet reachable were wiped away by sudden coming of sea waves by the shore. Those dreams now only remain forever as sets of pictures on my mind. I thought I would see her go to school. I noticed she was so smart and I believed she would perform well in her studies, earn a degree and be somebody. I dreamt that she will grow by my side, be her best friend, guide her, play with her, stroll with her, or do anything that two buddies can do. I can't help it but I really feel sorry having her for such a very short period of time.

I cried and most of the times I sighed when I see things that remind me of her. Those things that she used to own... like her toys... her leather boots... her clothes, some of which have never been used. Her hair clips, hair brush, toothbrush are the things I don't wanna throw away. Seeing those things makes me utter her name. I resent when my eyes caught those many medicines she had took. I feel uncomfortable every time I pass by the hospital where her doctor is holding his clinic. I sighed most of the times because the melancholy is so endless.

Going home after work is never easy for me. When she was here, I await for 5 o'clock time to reach for that Bundy clock. I wanted to go home early because my daughter is happily waiting for me. When she saw me approaching the house, she would run and shout for "Mamaaa!". Then I would lift her, embrace her, and she would hug me back so tightly. Now, it's different. I can go home but no one is there waiting for me. I would always think I miss her... would always think my destiny's being alone forever. If I would give in, maybe I would die also, or perhaps I would even escape to reality.

Losing her seemed so unfair; lamentation is hard to handle. I cried and I cried, but I said to myself: "Hey, it's alright to cry today but you cannot cry forever!"