Approximately 90 days.
How would you feel if you were given three more months to live? How would you spend it? I bet some of us would want it to be planned, connect with whoever we want to give thanks to, to ask for forgiveness, to show love, or just to do the little things to those people around us and leave pretty memories as we go.
But what if only those people around you know that you only have three months to live?
This idea has been bothering me since yesterday, when my family and I had a short visit at the hospital where my uncle (my father's cousin) has been staying for a couple of days now. I've been trying to keep myself busy to stop myself from thinking about it for it will only crush my heart more.
With my uncle's deteriorating body getting more palpable, I never thought that his condition had come this far. I was only thinking of high fever + old age (but he's only 61 or 62) + some bacterial infection in the stomach area. But when I asked my father about his situation, on what is it that he's suffering from, I got lost in myself. He is suffering from cancer, colon cancer to be more specific. And he might also be suffering from bone cancer, too, already having a crack on his spine area.
I couldn't even breathe properly. I wanted to help him breathe. I wish I could.
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 4, 2011
old and young
21. For a woman's age, it is the time when she is to be fully-recognized as a lady. Even a clothing company for ladies is named after it, Forever 21.
Twenty-one. And I feel old. Every time I see students in their school uniform, I feel a lot older. I see my grade school Alma Mater every working day and I feel old. I realize that I already am working, I feel real old. I see any of my siblings growing, I am old.
Some may say I've missed a part, or maybe a lot, of a post-teen-pre-adult life. The partying 'til dawn, drunk-dancing, drunk-driving, smoking weed, boyfriend cuddles, romantic shizz, and a whole lot more of what you may call fun. Yes I didn't get to experience them. I am boring, I know it, and I admit it.
But I'm not because I chose to spend more of my precious time with my real friends (I'm clingy) and my family (a lot more clingy). I prefer intimacy: long talks with anyone from the family, tea time with my sister or my best friend, a walk with myself along the streets of the city, a visit at an old friend's house, or just hangout with the few close friends that I have. These are a few, yet the best, things that make me happy and say that I'm young. Young for not having experienced what most of my age have had.
Twenty-one. And I feel old. Every time I see students in their school uniform, I feel a lot older. I see my grade school Alma Mater every working day and I feel old. I realize that I already am working, I feel real old. I see any of my siblings growing, I am old.
Some may say I've missed a part, or maybe a lot, of a post-teen-pre-adult life. The partying 'til dawn, drunk-dancing, drunk-driving, smoking weed, boyfriend cuddles, romantic shizz, and a whole lot more of what you may call fun. Yes I didn't get to experience them. I am boring, I know it, and I admit it.
But I'm not because I chose to spend more of my precious time with my real friends (I'm clingy) and my family (a lot more clingy). I prefer intimacy: long talks with anyone from the family, tea time with my sister or my best friend, a walk with myself along the streets of the city, a visit at an old friend's house, or just hangout with the few close friends that I have. These are a few, yet the best, things that make me happy and say that I'm young. Young for not having experienced what most of my age have had.
And I guess I'll be staying young for a while. Maybe, forever.
I see me wearing lipstick. Damn, I'm old.
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