The other night, when we rushed my son, Malakai, to the hospital in the middle of the night, a strange ache engulfed me: to feel a love so deep and vast; to be loved unconditionally and reciprocate with so much more; to feel powerless (note, not dependent) on my own without one other soul destined to be my partner in this lifetime and in the next. I ask, can a love so deep still exist? Picture this: an old Fierra screeches to a halt in front of the two big doors of Makati Med’s Emergency room and immediately, the otherwise sluggish area into a flurry. Nurses and doctors run back and forth with their steel clipboards and BP monitors in tow. A couple of men in green gowns with a bed in tow pass in front of Kai and me in bullet speed and goes to the back of the vehicle. In what seemed like only 5 seconds, the bed rolls by again in front of my pretending-to-be-sick son and me. I was expecting a blood-stained patient, but was taken aback by who lay on the moving bed — an old lady — maybe seventy, seventy-five — was propped on the bed, her fingers curled in the air as if to say she’s suffered much before help came along…her face was very pale, in fact it was ghastly. I could not remember if her eyes were open or closed, but I’d like to think she was not completely dead.
I froze in my seat and was unaware that I had clutched Kai to my chest very, very tightly. I didn’t realize my mouth was open until I felt it run dry. I barely recovered when in another second, the double doors open again, this time to usher in
an old man, limping while trying his very best to run after the bed. He was the same age as the old lady who came in before him: peppered hair, wrinkles….and tears streaming down his face. He must be having a difficult time breathing, running and crying all at the same time.
We didn’t stay long enough to find out if the old man would be able to wipe those tears away as our ride came in another five minutes or so, but the incident had me suspended, my pulse racing and my thoughts running wild. I immediately thought of my parents who are in their twilight years and could have been just a few years shy of the old couple who went to the emergency room that night. They were inseparable and its dreadful to think of how one would react if the other went before either of them.
I thought of me and my husband and the promise we made in church not long ago, and with it came a fervent wish that in spite of the petty fights we have at the moment, we would, in fact, withstand the test of time and prevail in the end.
For many, this could be just wishful thinking. But for a few lucky ones who worked hard to make the relationship work and never left it to love alone, a rewarding ending could be at stake. It feels nice to have someone worry when you’re unwell…to have someone finish your sentences for you if you forget…to be a fixture in every waking hour from the moment you wake up and even way after you lay in bed at night.
Cheesy as it may sound, its actually perfect when you do have someone who’d complete you, as Tom Cruise would say…
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