There's a light that never goes out

There are those who hide behind a strong veneer, but I only know a few genuine, strong women. Two of them I'm lucky enough to have at home. My mom has always been a fighter, and knowing all the battles in life she's gone through- marriage, money, loss... without an inkling of hesitation I can really say she's the most resilient person I know. Three years ago, she lost her only brother to a terminal sickness, and as if it was a plague, just last year, lolo also passed away. She experienced one loss after the other. And of all people, it's the two men who played a significant role in her life from the time she was little. It's depressing to go through that - to feel as if a big part of you has been stolen and you will never be whole again. But like my mom, lola also lost a husband and a son. It was much painful for her as a mother to let her own son down his grave when it should be the other way around. She's always been strong, but the longing surfaced when reality started to sink in. It's tragic what life can do to strong people.

Yesterday, we found out that we are once again going for a battle. After a series of tests, lola was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. It is our battle as much as it is hers especially when she starts undergoing chemo therapy and her operation. She told me she's nervous and scared, knowing two of her sisters were also taken away by the very same disease. The way she disclosed it was just like any of our casual conversations. I encouraged her, but I didn't cry. Mom didn't cry. Lola didn't cry. We all have one thing in common - we don't show our emotions over something that would make other people bawl their eyes out if it happened to them. Afterwards, in fact, we were laughing at some scene on TV as if the problem could so easily vanish.

Sometimes, I'm thankful that I was raised by women who care so little about showing emotions. People (especially at work) often misinterpret my lack of expressiveness and end up judging my personality. I don't even bother to explain my upbringing. 

But of course, the way we handle our emotions doesn't remove all traces of worry and pain. At this point, all we can really do is hope and pray. It's hard for me because when lolo was sick, I didn't pray for God to prolong his life. I didn't want him to go through prolonged agony seeing the way he cried in pain and refused every morsel we tried to feed him. He became so frail even the doctors couldn't do anything. We were just waiting for it to happen. And that made me feel bad asking God for something that wasn't already part of the plan. 

But In lola's case, the battle has just begun. There are still ways. And a prayer could go a long way.