This story is written in fond memories of my late father (who passed away last Aug) and my aunt (who passed away in Feb 05) , whose passing brought me knowledge and understanding about the appreaciation of the life and relationships that I have today.

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PROMISE ME (part 1)

Her eyes stared blankly in a distance. Her breathing was constantly interrupted. A part of me felt that she was leaving us, that her time had come and my time had arrived. Her face was as pale as the white pillow sheet. The luscious red lips were long gone, only dried wrinkled lips that quivered as she spoke...and when was the last time did I hear that miracle? I tried to recall as my eyes examined her weary face. Once those sunken cheeks were full - the illness robbed those away from her.

My scent of smell was already immune to the pungent medicinal smell that this place had - a place that I hated to be but had to be, a place that gave people hope and accepted those without hope. This place was both my sanctuary and my prison, a part of me was here. And that part of me might just leave me stranded here, alone. I thought maybe it was good that I brought her back to where she belonged, a place she used to call home. Let her breathe her last breath there...in all the comforts of this temporary world. Oh God! Why didn't I do that? Is it too late?

I saw her lips quivered and there was something strange about the way she looked at me. She struggled as she turned her face towards me. I leaned myself, straining my ears to hear her whisper,"Promise me." That was all she said. I clutched her frail, bony hands. Don't take her away, God. Don't take her away. My heart cried out. Is this a punishment from you, God? For me, who have forgotten all about YOU? I beg you. Let her live, please.

My eyes brimmed with tears that I could no longer hold. I no longer care if a man could not cry. I no longer care about the pride or dignity of a man. I am, after all, a human...a fragile human. My eyes glanced to the corner of the room. There, stood an angel, my angel, my son. My father had brought him here, to this icy cold place, where my hope diminished, my soul destroyed. With his head bowed, I could see tears streaming down his smooth baby cheeks. For a moment, I forgot about her.

The machine beeped into a monotonous tone. I was suddenly awaken by a struck of reality. People in white scurried into the room, hastily pushing me and my child aside. Oh God! What is happening? My mind went into a blank. What is all this fuss? Where am I? I stretched out my hand to reach hers...Please, please help me. Don't take her away. I never had the chance to say what I had wanted to say. The pride of a man had gotten in my way.

I had one last look at that beautiful, loving face. When will I see you again, my love? Promise me...that was what she last said. I promise you, my love. I will do whatever humanly possible to achieve that promise. Believe me. They covered her and told me to make the necessary arrangement. And they left me alone. I just stood there. I did not know what to do. I could not recall who took my son. An instinct told me he was well taken care.

Am I supposed to show a stoic stance? Or can I just wail my heart out for my love was stolen from me? Was the love mine, in the first place? God, I am so confused. I did not want to leave her. I never left her alone. My emotions took over me. I could not hold it any longer. My body shook uncontrollably. I tried to contain myself but I just did not have the energy. I had to let go.

I felt a comforting touch on my shoulder. A part of me wished this was all a bad dream and that touch was hers...she came to get me, to comfort me - the way she normally would.

"My son." Alas, I thought. It was just my father. I felt guilty that, for once, I had wished it was her who touched me, not him. "We have to get going. It is not wise for us to stay here. Let's give her the final rites. Let her go, my son. She was a good wife."