An Epic Farewell On A Scenic Dawn

AN EPIC FAREWELL ON A SCENIC DAWN

Kevin Carlo Abila

It was a typical dawn when everybody in the house played a panoramic scene, where a mom sheds her tears, pouring all over an innocent, naked angel, while the rest of her kids were gently brushing their lips from the poor baby’s wet forehead down her pale cheeks. The rest were projected in a static position with sympathizing eyes.

It was a morning of agony and tears, filled with nostalgic memories- a lonely dawn to everybody. I hope it will be peaceful for her.

Even before my mom gave birth to my one and only sister, she often told me that she preferred having more daughters than sons. She wanted girls whom she will play dolls and make cute dresses for them (for she is a dressmaker). My grandma have also told me that even before my mom’s younger years, she had already confessed her desire of having daughters when she’ll get married and bear her first child. It should be a girl and it was her plea every night. It was her dream until when I was born and became her very first child. Her dreams didn’t ruin her treatment to me since I was her first angel and I can proudly say that I have the best mom in the world. My relatives told me of how she used to take care of me. She spent her time with me even after she had a lot of chores left undone in the house. It was her passion and devotion until she gave birth to my first younger sibling, Karl. It took several months before I was able to cope with the new environment where I am not the main focus and priority. Thank God that I have made it to accept my first challenge as an elderly. Yeah, I am the “one-to-beat” when it comes to accepting realities in life, undisputed. I do. I needed to. 

Somehow, I felt overwhelmingly lucky to have brothers and sisters whom I can share my old toys, tell them my past experiences, teach them how to eat promptly or when to take a bath, how to count, and how to write. It would be of great joy if I will be the one whom they will depict as a role model and I will really look forward in them if they will come with me and do some out-of-this-world activities. I was just a child then, hoping to have a number of siblings whom I will spend the rest of my life, embedded with positivity and dreams for them. And it was mom who made me feel that nothing is impossible, that I can live up with my expectations and goals.

It took several years before mom finally bare the child of her dreams and she took the colors of the rainbow when she knew it was a girl. She made it to live with her dream. On the 29th of February, 1999, papa celebrated two milestones in his life- first, his birthday, and the other, the birth of his first daughter. Sharjah, the place where my dad used to work abroad, was chosen to be the name of his unica hija. By then, the couple had just constructed the longest and perhaps, the most beautiful name of all their children. Kaye Sharjah Jennica became the official name of my first sister.

I thought mom was contented of having such a nice and naughty girl in the house when she gave birth to Bambie (Kaye) but it seems that she’s enjoying her company to the point that she wanted another baby girl. We, her kids were all against this idea but she insisted that it was good to have a big family, and besides that Bambie is growing and she missed raising a young one. She told papa of how she came up with the new idea since she really missed caressing an innocent baby girl. It felt somehow sad on my side since I remembered her sleepless nights and tiredness during daytime. But she still got pregnant for the fourth time. After several years of enjoying a feminine in the house, of course with our mom’s exception, we will be having our second sister and Bam’s successor of the family’s attention. Yes! It was confirmed that mom’s bearing her second daughter.

I was a witness of how she came prepared for this new milestone in her life as a mother. She spent most of her time in her bed and that was a bit problem for us, the remaining kids. I always come to school late for the reason that nobody cares to come after me. Since then, I have understood the task that was bestowed upon me right after my birth- to become patient enough in dealing with my younger siblings, to be the best example, and the best brother they can have. I thought my mom’s natal day would end up my sufferings but I was wrong. It was the start of the family’s darkest episode in life. 

June 25th, 1997,it was still dark when we were awaken by several shouts from a suffering lady. We quickly jumped off our bed only to find out that it was our mom, calling our dad, who was just on his way summoning a nurse from the nearby clinic. My grandma was staying beside my mom and the rest of us took pity upon seeing her condition. Our neighbors were gathering at the sala to show their care and presence. This is one of the things that I used to love in our place, in the barrio, that during these kinds of situations, at any kind of unbearable times, people will always be there to offer help and show their concern. It took few more minutes before dad came back rushing with the nurse, who, upon arrival, quickly approached my unconscious mom. Everybody was with the nurse until she was carrying the newly- born baby. I thought it wasn’t awkward not to hear the baby crying right after birth unlike what I have seen and heard during the last two deliveries of my mom. It was just the same year that I fully understand the idea that a baby must cry right after birth.

Being her first child, I was summoned by my weak mom to come beside her. It was so captivating that I quickly come beside her. She told me to kiss my sister and I did so. The moment I kissed my sister aroused the greed in my heart to continue what I am doing. The rapture it gave was so sensual. I kissed an angel! My other siblings followed what I am doing and we enjoyed brushing our lips to her cottony cheeks. But I forced myself to stop upon seeing my mom’s glittering eyes and dad’s sad expression. Everybody seemed to be sad. But why are they sad? Is there any problem? I asked myself. If there’s the idea of the so called “tears of joy”, then it must be the same thing arousing at everyone’s eyes. It could be joy unless they were crying for . . . a dead? But who? The baby? No, it can’t be this little princess of innocence. No way! And there’s really no way out.

Realizations bombarded my resistance as a brother. Mom confirmed through her tears what I was thinking. The house was full of cries and hounds. The recent addition to our family had just passed away. If it was a painful wound profusely bleeding for me, then what more for my mom who spent time and tender love just for nothing but pain and shock. It must be her biggest failure in life, as proved by her agonizing eyes. But if there’s someone who’s really melting his heart during that time, it could be my great father. Seeing the suffering of her wife, and feeling the loss of her unfortunate child, it could be crushing and tearing his heart into the smallest pieces possible. It was a dawn of agony, tears, disappointment, failure, and loss of a possession. But it was the rising sun who reminded everyone of something- that the Earth is not a portal of darkness, that the Creator ensures the balance and existence of life, and that a sun will always break the quiescent dawn. Everybody proceeded to the preparations for the burial.

She became the first one in the family to join our Almighty God. I thought it was just too early for her to go. What if she was born the next coming days rather than that horrible day, will she stay with us to play? For sure, mom will make new dresses for a newly purchased doll for her, while dad will cook his best dish. And the rest of us will be playing all-day long. We will make her the happiest baby in the whole, wide world! I promised it to her if she came back, but it just made me cry the whole day.

I cried and the tears rushed along the verge of my soul as in a hurry or rage but I don’t care. For me, she had left a will at death. Her stay was not even a visit nor a sojourn. I knew it was adjourned- a life postponed for she’s going somewhere else- in the right place, in her true home. All of this time, I always think that it was just a horrible nightmare that I don’t want to dream of again but being afflicted by such a sore distress, I have finally acquired the aptitude, the acceptance. I should be strong. I am her benignant brother and all I want is to make her happy even if it would mean letting her go. The light now besieged me and declared my acceptance by granting my sister’s tomb a white rose- pure and alluring as the fading moon- a proclamation of acceptance to her loss and grant of peace and tranquility.

Maybe, God is really that good when He decided to get her so that she may live in the best world, in His paradise where there’s no threat, no evil, no fear, no bad things. Maybe, He has predicted that she’s not going to be happy with us or maybe, she’s that lucky to be with Him. I hope so.

      Mourning over the early loss of my beloved sister, I finally crafted in my mind that I should be thankful that my family will have a watching angel from above, whom we can ask help, guidance, and grace. She’ll continue being a part of our one, big, and happy family. 

      Meanwhile, mom had a year before she was able to accept the tragic loss of her child, the very first in her life. While up to this present time, she always thank God for having two more handsome graces in return. Dad consumed each day making every single second of our lives more fascinating, more visible. And perhaps, the K5 endures the joy and dispels every possible cause of agony which may threaten the visibility of the family’s future. 

      Considering that tragedy, I always think that she’s always there to maintain and reserve her family some space in heaven where us, her family will live together, eternally, happily. I knew she’s a beautiful angel, charming as the picturesque dawn when she was born, resembling the beauty of a rising sun, which will be forever imprinted in our hearts.

      I made a promise in the same moment when the cold breeze dances with the dandelions along the ocean of weeping grasses while the singing nightingale awakens the evergreen meadow amidst the promenade of misty clouds, the golden rays driving away the darkness that encompasses the Earth. Now, I can see the clarity, the purity, and the truth.  At the horizon, there stood a young lady of ivory wings, resembling that of a magpie or swift, wearing a silk dress spangled by the laces of rose petals, waving her hand happily while proudly erecting the tectrices of her wings. Her eyes were twinkling and sparkling like a pristine spring that highlighted her innocence, so tactile. I knew it was fragile and so I need to make my promise and I must really thank God that I have made it before the sun rises, before the dawn breaks.

      I promised it will be a peaceful dawn for her, a dawn without the dew, and I succeeded.