Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Stolen form my BFF's blog (a re-post from Malakai's Pages)

Wala lang. Its not that i wanted to re-live the agonizing moments before my operation last year but its entries like these two from my best friend that makes me think our friendship truly is, for life!

16 1/2 hours

a real trooper. She forced herself into a smile when I leaned forward
to greet her. It was a little past midnight. “Sorry, it took me this
long,” I whispered. I wanted to hug her frail body, but I was afraid I
might hurt her.

* * *

Upo ka dito, she said, tapping the space beside her.
You need anything?
Wala. Kwentuhan mo lang ako.
must have felt like eternity for her. I’ve never been operated on
before, so I can only imagine what the entire ordeal must have taken
from her. Time, precious time, that she could have spent having good
conversations…laughter…playtime…stimulating book…soft
music…entertaining movie…favorite TV show…delicious meal…heck, even a
productive client presentation.
mo lang ako…on normal days, this request may be considered empty. But
in this particular instance, it cried painful longing. You can’t say no
to something like that. Not under the circumstances.

* * *

ran my steel comb through her hair, strands made brittle by dried blood
from the operation. She would flinch whenever it gets painful, so I
decided to put leave-on conditioner to make her hair more manageable.
Thick strands fell off here and there. Flakes of dried blood covered
her shoulders and the top of the hospital bed. I couldn’t stand it, but
she always loved to keep her hair beautiful. I don’t know how long it
took me to tie her hair into a side pony, but when I finally did, I saw
her break into a satisfied smile. It was all worth it. I made her feel
good again.

* * *

took a healthy bite off the raisin bread that Max brought her. I knew
then she would do just fine. God has been good. As always. A gentle
kiss, a faint goodbye, and a glance that meant, “I’ll see you soon.” It
was 4:30 in the afternoon.
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Thesis of life

best friend is trying to defend her life against brain tumor. In a few
days, she will go under the knife and prove that she deserves an A for
fighting this through.
The pain that I am feeling from just watching her struggle against
this illness is nothing compared with her fear and physical agony. It’s
very difficult to listen to her voice it out everyday while I drive her
to and from work. It crushes me to see her cry everytime she pours it
out. It kills me to think that all I can do is to just touch her and
try my best to say the right things. I try to remain the positive,
cheerful friend who always makes her laugh. Although I manage to make
her smile at least, I can feel that her mind is kicking her pains.
Her mind is on her son who will be turning three two weeks after her
operation. She wants to be there on his birthday, and this alone gives
her enough spirit to fight.
Her mind is on her husband who is going through his own personal battles.
Her mind is on her sister who is trying to raise two kids on her own.
Her mind is on her Dad who still doesn’t know about his favorite
daughter’s condition until this day. She dreads telling him about it,
knowing fully well that it will definitely affect his sagging health.
I pray for her everyday, and so do all our friends — including
those whose routine does not include praying. They even send her
encouraging messages. All these give her the strength she needs as we
approach the day of her operation. I know God never fails us, and she
will receive His grace just when she needs it most.
We have searched our hearts for answers, written our thoughDistortion9ts for others to read and understand, and now we are defending our reason for living. Ready when you are, Grace.

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