Que Sera, Sera

I miss my mom so much.

I could still remember every moment we had together in her last two weeks in the hospital. I could still hear her voice telling me to wipe her mouth, and I could still see her lovely smile when I told her I loved her.

I remember praying to all Catholic saints and her god to give her a longer life, but no miracle happened.

Before you misunderstand me, let me clarify that I blame no one for my mom’s death.

But I have to get this emotion out.

I believe in a creator of the universe—one without gender, one who watches but does not interfere. Events in our life are either intended by us (i.e., our choices) or an external force (e.g., accidents, crimes). Maybe I’ll expound on this topic in another blog when I am given more time.

I mentioned this because I often hear “God has a plan for you” whenever someone passes. I would smile, but deep within me, I disagree. I don’t think that God planned my mom’s cancer, nor did God plan to hurt us. I actually took whatever happened to her literally—she had cancer, she fought hard, but the cancer was aggressive and took her life away.

“Everything happens for a reason” . . . or does it? I think I have mentioned this in one of my blogs before, but we humans tend to find reasons and signs behind everything. Before my mother died, a “special” pillow was placed underneath her head. Our relative said, “Hinihintay lang niya ‘yong unan.” My mom wanted to take off her mask a few seconds before her last breath. Someone commented, “May gusto siyang sabihin.” I guess denying reality and projecting it to something else were how they coped with situation.

Sabagay . . . what more can you tell one who lost a loved one?

Why is it so difficult to accept reality as it is?

She lived a short but meaningful life, but still, I wish it were longer. I just miss her. I miss her so much. And if afterlife and divine dwelling places were true, I hope she could wait for us in heaven; if reincarnation were true, I hope she’d be taken care of by a good family; and if death were the end, I hope that in the last moments of her life, it was our I love yous that she last heard.

As a popular song states, “Que Sera, Sera. Whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see. Que Sera, Sera. What will be, will be.”

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