After ten sticks and one bottle, I was lying face-down on my bed, smothered in my pillow and in what could perhaps be the best sleep I have had in days.
That is, ten sticks of isaw and a bottle of iced tea.
The moment I entered campus yesterday, the entire Valentines-y feeling was palpable. A women's org was in brisk business, their wares consisting of flowers and everything chocolate flying off their booth. The classroom was no different. Almost everyone was talking about dates - which had to do with having one, not having one or hoping to have one. There were plans to see "Music and Lyrics" after class, a movie which I had been raring to see ever since the first time I laid eyes on that gigantic billboard of it along EDSA-Greenhills. But I had to pass since I had promised to see it with my own "date" (aka my sister) this weekend. It would be our first movie in months.
After class, some of the "single people" across the aisle where I was seated (Jo, Bryan, Lora and Marge) decided to go out. I decided to pass again since I had been feeling heavy-headed all day. My weekend had been both physically and emotionally draining so I just wanted to get some sleep. On my way out of the school building, I fished out my phone and made a call.
The voice on the other end of the line sounded even more tired than I was.
"Valentine's Day is different this year. At this time last year, we were doing a movie marathon, just like we always do."
Her words stung like a wasp. This year was indeed going to be the start of something totally different.
At 4:00 PM of perhaps the next most anticipated day after Christmas, instead of cringing over the cheesiest chick flicks available on the planet, I was standing in the back of the school building, clad in my favorite blue shirt in an attempt to look cheery while talking to one of my best friends who was on her way home after burying her mother earlier in the day.
Tita Celine, as I fondly called her, died last Friday at around noontime, two weeks after suffering from a stroke. I was in my third floor classroom, reviewing for my last class that day. I checked my phone to see that Banana had texted me, asking if she could call. My teacher was unusually late but I did not want to take the call since she might come bursting in at any minute, spot me with a phone on hand and call my attention. I asked her to call me at around 4 PM, when I am sure my class would end. She did just that and I was alarmed to find out that her mother had a stroke. I could not believe it. A few days before, Tita Celine and I were texting each other like we always do. Ever since I entered law school, she would frequently send me messages of encouragement which always seemed to come at the time when I was feeling worn out and tired. Once, one message really hit home, I had to text back, "Thank you, Tita. I really needed that." Then she replied, "Alam ko, kayang-kaya mo yan."
Em and I went to the hospital the next day and we made our way to the Acute Stroke Unit. The first person I saw inside the room was Banana's younger brother, Pau. I tentatively approached the room and saw Tita Celine. She was intubated and her eyes were closed. A monitor was attached to her and I found myself screaming inside my head "This cannot be happening." The last time I saw her, she was doing great. Her gentle voice rang inside my head and her trademark sweet way of saying my name. Moments later, Banana arrived with her boyfriend Marvin. Banana brought me beside her bed and I swear, I was shaking. She tried to coax her mom to wake up, to let her know I was there but Tita Celine slept on. I took Tita Celine's hand in mine. It was swollen slightly but warm. I wondered if she could feel my hand in hers. Banana and I then closed our eyes and I began to pray. In the middle of the prayer, I began to cry.
It was Banana's turn for her "Father Estrada" moment.
The "Father Estrada" moment began in our sophomore year in college. Banana and I could not come up with a better name that is why it is called such. It started on that day I was told that my mom had to undero a hysterectomy in order to remove a myoma that had grown on her uterus. The procedure was risky, given the fact that the last time my mom was opened up, the doctors said that she had severe adhesions. On the day I found out about the decision to open her up, I was harrassed both by schoolwork and my friends who thought I was just being moody. I retreated to the school chapel where Banana went with me. Choking up with tears, I told her what was wrong, including my fear of losing my mother. She bowed her head and prayed for me and when she was done, we both looked up to see that Father Estrada, our freshman theology teacher, had passed us by and was eyeing us both rather curiously. He eventually walked away and just to lighten up the moment, I told her "He's probably wondering who broke up with who."
I saw Tita Celine for the last time a week ago, February 3, Saturday. The week had been literally sleepless because of my Crim midterms. I was nursing the beginnings of a really bad cough which I acquired from trying to catch a few winks in a car the night before, at around the time the "cold wave" hit the country. I had a 3 PM flight to catch because I was going home for the weekend for a double whammy thing - my grandmother's 77th birthday and the inauguration of the new building of the church I attend back home. But I just felt I had to see her before I left, just to see how she was doing. Besides, Banana's father Tito Max was also admitted in the same hospital because of fluctuating BP. I walked into the ACSU just a few minutes before visiting hours would end and I was livened up by what I saw. I did not enter the room but through the open door, I could see that Tita Celine was awake although her eyes were out of focus. She was more conscious now and she was no longer intubated. She looked so pretty and brave lying on her bed I could not stop smiling. It was like being calm in the midst of a storm. I whispered a "Thank you, Jesus" to myself, hope renewed that she would make it through.
Things would get better on Sunday. I got a text from an uber-excited Banana at around 6 PM. Her text read: "Niyakap ako ni Mommy (Mommy hugged me)!" I was so happy for her I could not wait to fly back to Manila and see for myself how much Tita Celine had improved.
Exactly two weeks after Anna informed me that her mom had suffered a stroke came that fateful call. I had two unopened voice messages from Banana so I called her back immediately. The voice on the other end of the line was barely perceptible and all I could hear were her sobs. All she managed to whisper was "Wala na si mommy (Mommy is gone)."
During Tita Celine' interment, I made up my mind not to look at her as she lay on her coffin. Banana prodded me to do so, teasing me that she would get mad if I did not look at the dress she bought for Tita Celine to wear. I told her I couldn't do that, that I had to preserve that last image of her mom in my mind. All of Tita Celine's text messages are still in my phone, in its own special folder that I made before her stroke. During the time she was hospitalized, I unconsciously found myself waiting for her texts and it did not help that Banana would sometimes use her mother's phone to contact me. I was hopeful and anticipating the day I would finally receive a message from her saying something like "Hi, I'm back."
Tita Celine's phone which Anna now uses.
I do not know why Banana and her family chose February 14, the day of hearts, to lay Tita Celine to rest and if they did so on purpose. Thinking about it brought to mind the inscription on the epitaph of Rianne, Em's niece whose life was taken away by leukemia at age 7. This made the choice of February 14 more significant and beautiful. The inscription says "Death does not put an end to love."
On the day of hearts, Tito Max, Banana and Pau made that message loud and clear.
Love transcends death, love is eternal, love remains even when our mortal bodies are no more.
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