FROM THE ASHES
We have a new nurse in the unit and I had the chance to work with her on her first night. She seemed friendly and pleasant enough that come down time, we started asking her about herself as we usually did when there was somebody new at work. Man, there is nothing that I've been through, not even with everything that I've been through in my recent past, that would have prepared me for her story.
She lost her husband 3 years ago in a car accident. Not only that, she also lost her son along with her husband in the same accident. Her son was a month short of 18. 3 days after, seeing his daughter in so much grief, her father suffered a heart attack and died too. I remember exactly what she said, 'That must have been what a holocaust felt like.'
It took her 2 years to get over it, not that she's over it. I guess it's more accurate to say that it took her 2 years to put herself back together, enough to make what one would normally be expected to contribute to the ebb and amalgam of everything that is considered human... purpose, meaning, life. She has a daughter, all that's left of the family she nurtured for almost 20 years. When she was down at her deepest, it was this daughter who asked her, 'What about me? What about me?' And so one day, my colleague had to rise up to the question for of course, her daughter mattered too. She had to remember that and in so doing, she had to forget about herself and about not being able to go on.
She got her nursing degree and so after years of being an LVN, she was now an RN. She said, 'I like to take care of patients whose conditions would demand my full, undivided attention. The more completely I need to focus on what I am doing in the here and now, the less room I have to remember the past. Not that I will ever forget. I just need enough room so I could be right here, right now.'
Some story, huh? For the past several weeks, since I came back from my father's funeral, people have asked me how I was... 'Are you ok?' or 'How'd it go?' like it was a movie premier or a parade or something. It's funny how I'd get all fidgety at being asked and somehow I had this feeling that I had to put their mind to rest and convince them that I was ok. I mean, really. And for a while there, I thought I was. Sure, I'd have my moments... when I'd be talking about something so remotely associated with fathers and deaths and grief and my tears would just start falling, no matter who I was talking to. And then I'd have to tell them about it all over again by way of apologizing for my behavior. But these moments were rare and far between so I thought, 'Yeah, I guess I'm ok... or at least I'm getting there.' But that story had me rushing to the restroom where I had to stay for a considerable number of minutes cause I was unable to stop crying.
Here's a thought. It must take some courage to ask a person how he is and really, really be there to take whatever comes off him. People will always tell you they're ok, that they're fine... but now I think they're often just being kind for sparing you the knowledge and the sentiment of what rings true behind those words. I'm not saying that people are most often sad and that they're just lying about it. Nor am I saying that people who tell you how really sad they are are unkind and inconsiderate. All I'm saying is that people would most often try to do the best they can given whatever cards they're dealt so they'd have something good, or at the very least, better, to tell you.
I struck that last key and I didn't realize I have been staring at my screen for heaven knows how long until a door slammed. And then other things started to spur in my moment... an errant breeze that lifted a few strands of hair from my face, a car screeching to a halt, a neighbors puppy yelping, the drone of the AC, the sunshine in autumn, yellow flowers that bloom wild and untended, a heartbeat...
Ludicrous, perhaps, that I should draw some wisdom from what mundanity grabs at me from my open window. But it's true. No matter how much sadness there is in one's life at any given moment, no matter how much pain one holds, no matter how much one wants to just be left alone, there is a world out there that hasn't stopped turning, and it is a world that we could always choose to be a part of again.
It's the season for open windows.
We have a new nurse in the unit and I had the chance to work with her on her first night. She seemed friendly and pleasant enough that come down time, we started asking her about herself as we usually did when there was somebody new at work. Man, there is nothing that I've been through, not even with everything that I've been through in my recent past, that would have prepared me for her story.
She lost her husband 3 years ago in a car accident. Not only that, she also lost her son along with her husband in the same accident. Her son was a month short of 18. 3 days after, seeing his daughter in so much grief, her father suffered a heart attack and died too. I remember exactly what she said, 'That must have been what a holocaust felt like.'
It took her 2 years to get over it, not that she's over it. I guess it's more accurate to say that it took her 2 years to put herself back together, enough to make what one would normally be expected to contribute to the ebb and amalgam of everything that is considered human... purpose, meaning, life. She has a daughter, all that's left of the family she nurtured for almost 20 years. When she was down at her deepest, it was this daughter who asked her, 'What about me? What about me?' And so one day, my colleague had to rise up to the question for of course, her daughter mattered too. She had to remember that and in so doing, she had to forget about herself and about not being able to go on.
She got her nursing degree and so after years of being an LVN, she was now an RN. She said, 'I like to take care of patients whose conditions would demand my full, undivided attention. The more completely I need to focus on what I am doing in the here and now, the less room I have to remember the past. Not that I will ever forget. I just need enough room so I could be right here, right now.'
Some story, huh? For the past several weeks, since I came back from my father's funeral, people have asked me how I was... 'Are you ok?' or 'How'd it go?' like it was a movie premier or a parade or something. It's funny how I'd get all fidgety at being asked and somehow I had this feeling that I had to put their mind to rest and convince them that I was ok. I mean, really. And for a while there, I thought I was. Sure, I'd have my moments... when I'd be talking about something so remotely associated with fathers and deaths and grief and my tears would just start falling, no matter who I was talking to. And then I'd have to tell them about it all over again by way of apologizing for my behavior. But these moments were rare and far between so I thought, 'Yeah, I guess I'm ok... or at least I'm getting there.' But that story had me rushing to the restroom where I had to stay for a considerable number of minutes cause I was unable to stop crying.
Here's a thought. It must take some courage to ask a person how he is and really, really be there to take whatever comes off him. People will always tell you they're ok, that they're fine... but now I think they're often just being kind for sparing you the knowledge and the sentiment of what rings true behind those words. I'm not saying that people are most often sad and that they're just lying about it. Nor am I saying that people who tell you how really sad they are are unkind and inconsiderate. All I'm saying is that people would most often try to do the best they can given whatever cards they're dealt so they'd have something good, or at the very least, better, to tell you.
I struck that last key and I didn't realize I have been staring at my screen for heaven knows how long until a door slammed. And then other things started to spur in my moment... an errant breeze that lifted a few strands of hair from my face, a car screeching to a halt, a neighbors puppy yelping, the drone of the AC, the sunshine in autumn, yellow flowers that bloom wild and untended, a heartbeat...
Ludicrous, perhaps, that I should draw some wisdom from what mundanity grabs at me from my open window. But it's true. No matter how much sadness there is in one's life at any given moment, no matter how much pain one holds, no matter how much one wants to just be left alone, there is a world out there that hasn't stopped turning, and it is a world that we could always choose to be a part of again.
It's the season for open windows.
12 Comments:
ang ganda mylab. this is one of your best posts.
about our dads - hanggang ngayon, i still think of my dad and he's been gone since 91. the pain does go away but not the memory of the man. as time passes, it gets better.
oh and it does help when you say you're fine. somehow if makes you feel ok when you say it.
I can't believe I ever complain about my life. I know its common nature. But I'm almost ashamed of what I emailed the berks and you a while back. I have no problems, I really don't.
First thing I'm gonna do when I see you is give you a big long hug. It's better than words a lot of the times.
i'm sorry to hear about your dad's passing, jet. just learned about it recently, as i've been out of the loop for a while. i just want to send a hug your way. you'll be in my prayers as well. take care, my friend.
Batjay: thank you Pa. I will count on what you said, that the pain eventually goes away. I want it to be replaced by the memories I have of him. I can see how that will make the loss easier.
Tintin: It's ok. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Sometimes we get overwhelmed and that's alright. Life is tough. We can be thankful for stories like this that help us get back to our senses afterwards.
Petite: Hey you! :) Thank you and don't worry about it. I know how crazy things are for you right now. You take care too. Hugs back.
alam mo, ateng, tama si fafa. minsan we tell people we're fine just to reassure ourselves that we will be. or at least, give ourselves the drive to get there.
I know that some people ask "how are you" only as part of a conversation. Or just to console themselves that, at least, they did ask you how you are. But there are also people who do care when they ask the question. I guess, for me, it's a matter of knowing how close this person is to me.
mas masakit siguro for me yung hindi man lang ako tanungin ng iisang malapit sa akin kung kamusta na ako kesa sa tanungin ako maraming taong hindi ko naman kalapit at balewale lang sa kanila ang sagot ko.
may sense ba yun?
Hi Jet. I totally missed what had happened. I went back to review Jay's posts when you went back home, and I totally overlooked it.
I can only imagine how you must feel losing your loved one especially having a good relationship with them. I lost my mother when I was 13. even though we didn't have a good relationship before and when she passed on, it still made a hole in my soul.
i don't think you ever get over the loss of a loved one. time may ease and heal the pain. they will always live in your memories and in your heart. may you find the comfort and joy from the wonderful fun memories you have of him.
Beautiful, beautiful writing, Jet. Although naiyak din ako just reading about how tragic this woman's life has been and yet she is up and still making a difference in this life.
I like what you said about it taking courage to ask how are you? Most people say it without expecting more than the usual reply. And then, when you have something like that happen to you, how do you really explain how you're feeling when you yourself are at a loss.
Great, lyrical writing as usual.
((hugs)) it will get better....
Ate Sienna: all I'm saying Ateng, is that knowing what I know now, the next time I ask after a person's well-being, I would want to be able to drop whatever I'm doing or what other concern might be preoccupying me should that person tell me something more than 'I'm fine.' and realize that the person really wants someone to talk to. it's just something I've come upon and I do not feel the need to qualify it as a better view or not than how others might view it.
Mye: don't worry about it Mye. the comfort that a friend brings always comes at the right time. :)
JMom: thank you! :) and thank you for putting this page on stumbleupon. kaiyak talaga ang kwento niya, but you know, it even gets more heart wrenching the way she tries to be so matter-of-fact about it. haaay!
As always, it is a beautiful piece. You've touched the heart again.
I say it once more, you are an awesome writer!!!!!
Lola: thank you so much. :)
thanks for sharing that story. i guess the only time i felt that depressed was when my mum died 2 years ago. but life does go on, and the pain will eventually fade. there will always be an emptiness... but time heals and makes it easier to bear. i still miss my mum though... i miss her a lot.
shielamarie: thanks for putting in your insight on this. I guess we will always miss them, for so long as we remember. that we love them so much makes us do that. :)
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