When I was sixteen years old, I remember staring at the window and looking over fields and fields of rice that my father and all the other farmers in our village had worked hard for all rainy season. I remember telling myself that one day when I do have my own family, I will do my best to work hard for them and give them the life I had always wanted for them, God willingly.
Several decades later, at 53, I stared at a different window with a different view. I saw trees that I remember my own mother planting it for me, two cheerful but solemn dogs awaiting for their rightful masters to come home and play with. I feel pain but I try my best not to show it. For years of suffering from whatever stressful situations I’ve been at, I never imagined that I, that young sixteen year old who never did anything to harm her body, except abuse it with years of hard work, would be rewarded with pain. Is this how it’s supposed to be?
I see two young girls come running towards the two dogs. They look excited and very young in their uniforms. One of them looks at me and smiles and says something to her sister. They come rushing towards my door, they succeed in opening it and one after the other kisses me on the cheek and give me this warm hug that feels sweet and gentle to my bones.
I felt a pinch on my knee but I ignore it. Moments later a young man perhaps in his early twenties arrives and kisses me in the forehead. I look at them and I feel an overwhelming sense of excitement and joy although the pain is tugging in my heart.
One of them takes me to the room as I plan to rest for the next few hours. They seem responsible and I feel content that they are. I have several hopes for them, for their dreams to come true. What are their dreams? I close my eyes and relive mine.
I opened my eyes and although it feels as if I’ve slept forever, it feels heavy and distraught. The pain still tugs inside, at several points in my body. I can see myself standing though, in a night gown I have never imagined that I owned. I’ve lost memory of the things that happened earlier, but my senses seem heightened.
I can see a future that cannot be imagined by any writer. I hear a sound that not a single note can play. I taste a certain flavor in the air that I don’t seem to remember tasting, it’s like pain mixed with confidence and fear. I smell the beauty of it all and at the same time the crudeness of it.
Will there be a light at the end of all this? I’d want that. I’ve seen too many dark hours in my lifetime. Should I be expecting something indifferent when I plan to close my eyes or should I not? I guess I shouldn’t.
All I ask, all that I want is for the world to matter. For the world to make sense to them three. I hope that they find out who they are and what is laid out for them. I pray for a peace of mind, and I think I got what I ought to. But why this early?
I apologize if I have too many questions. I think one would have too many questions at this point. I look back and realize that I have loved, been loved, been hurt, been mistreated, been rewarded, been complimented, been taught, been learned from. I don’t think I could ask for more.