I have spent my 20s grieving from the loss of my mom and trying to grow up so I can support my family better. Relocating to a new city in a house that is half built. I never had much time and money to go see the world, traveling domestically more so than internationally, simply because I can't afford it. My father then, didn't have work and was too old and sick to do so, while my brother was an upcoming college student. My sister and I were supporting them with all the bills and whatnot. I wasn't earning that much either, but we're surviving (thankfully!)
Since my mom passed, my dad has turned into a grumpy old man. He would often lash out, especially at our youngest brother, who had apparently stopped schooling since we had to move. He never got to apply for college coz he also passed when I was 25 during the pandemic. It was hard trying to understand how someone so young could be taken away from us in just a snap. He was only 19, so much life ahead of him. From then on, it was me, my sister, and my dad.
My sister got pregnant after a few years and started her own family, leaving me with our dad back at home. The reality of supporting my dad had dawned on me. I remember once when I went grocery shopping and the only thing I had bought for myself was a set of napkins. I would always decline whenever my friends would ask me to join them to travel anywhere by plane, coz I couldn't leave him behind for so long. He couldn't cook to save his life and I would just worry all the time if I ever joined a trip. And of course, the financial aspect. I didn't have the liberty to splurge coz I got my dad to support.
I would join a weekend trip, yes, to nearby cities, but the guilt I would feel every time I go home was immeasurable. Oftentimes, I tell myself I don't deserve it or that I was being a bad daughter for leaving him behind. Sometimes, he would get mad at me for being out for so long. Being the only one he's got, it was hard not to feel mad that he was fixated on my every move.
I see my friends and people I know traveling abroad, buying homes and cars, and living their lives to the fullest, while I was here, taking care of my sick dad and grieving the loss of two family members. I know it’s not right to compare, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little envious of the lives they have. I wish mine looked a little brighter, too
With just me and my sister left, it felt like I was starting over, and I honestly didn’t know where to begin. I had spent so much of my life taking care of my dad, putting his needs first, that I forgot how to prioritize myself. I remember going to Watson's shortly after he passed and spending nearly a thousand pesos on personal necessities. The guilt hit me so hard that I messaged my sister the moment I got home, just to process my emotions. I was sad. Sure, I can spoil myself a little, but it's not something I can really feel happy about.
All my life, I’ve carried the weight of grief after losing three of the most precious people in my life. There are times I find myself asking God, “Why are you giving me all this? Do I really deserve to go through so much pain? Am I being punished for something? ” I know I’m far from perfect, I’ve made my share of mistakes, but I don’t think I deserve this kind of suffering. I mean, I didn’t kill anyone.
I don't hate God for everything, but there was a time when I turned my back on Him. I miss them so much, but knowing the three of them are together up there, happy, healthy and at peace, helps me bear the pain.
People often ask me how I cope with losing three members of my family. Honestly, I never know what to say. Sometimes I just tell them, “It is what it is,” even though deep inside, I feel like I die a little every time. It’s hard to move on from something you never really wanted to let go of.
When my dad died, that was my breaking point. I shut everyone out, friends, relatives, everyone. I didn’t want to hear condolences or comforting words. I didn’t want people checking up on me. I thought I didn’t need anyone. So I kept to myself, and that went on for months.
Slowly, just like the changing seasons, I eventually came around. I managed to climb out of the dark place I had been stuck in for so long. I started going out again, reconnecting with friends and family, and it’s been therapeutic ever since.
My life may not be as fortunate as others’, but this is the only life I have. If I spend it dwelling on “what ifs,” feeling depressed and unhappy, I’ll only be wasting the time I’ve been given. I’m already 30 maybe I have 20 or 30 more years ahead of me if I’m lucky so I want to live them to the fullest.
I just want to be happy.
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