Last May 19, I celebrated my 21st birthday. I never expected it to be the way it had been. It was not a celebration, if such word had to be used. You see, my grandfather died the day before (see previous post). My mother sent me a text message telling us to prepare for an immediate sojourn in Batangas, at my grandfather’s wake. We left the house, May 18, at around 9:30 and arrived to the place 2 hours after. When midnight struck, I did not think that anyone would even bother to greet me, but some did. My parents greeted me, but I can see clearly that there is a feeling of deep grief in them, especially with my mother. I tried to smile, though honestly, I want to cry.
I remember, the time before we went to the wake, both of my parents asked me on how I can celebrate my birthday. I just told them that this is not the time for that. I cannot be happy when everyone else grieves. I told them that I won’t have a celebration…that’s fine with me, I accepted what happened.
Still, I appreciate those who greeted me during my birthday. Some people from the past greeted me, much to my surprise (thanks
That made me think…indeed, we have our share of good and bad times, but how we see the results of it, is another thing. It’s a matter of choice…and I decided, to be happy.
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