Someday

Someday

---

Four Months before,

You were here with me. But things are not the same as before. Situations are not good before I knew that something was going on. One hot afternoon, we were together. Your eyes were swollen and you feel exhausted. I asked you if you were okay. You said you do. I ignored it. I trusted your word. But my eyes saw a different feeling upon your face. You asked me to just let it go: your hidden suffering. Then I followed your request because you said so and I am your best friend. I don’t want you to doubt my trust on you. But then, I started to think of what you were going through.

Two Months before,

You were so silent. But I got a hint. You are now easily to maim. You got some bruises that took a long time to heal. While others that you got never healed. You easily get tired. You often catch your breath. You always feel so hefty. Every time I see you in the morning your eyes were distended. And finally I asked you.

“Are you sick?”

“No.” But I know you lied. Then in an abrupt, you said in a depressed tone,

“Yes. Leukemia.”

I was static at that time. My world has blown away. It emptied me. But you are strong and I must be too. On that very moment of my life I have said the hardest words to utter.

“Cheer up man! You gonna be okay and we can have things as they were before.”

You smiled at me. I know it’s fake; I know that you wanted to be healed. And I must be at your side to help you during your toughest times.

Four weeks before,

You didn't look the same. I hate saying that you will be alright after this big challenge and neither I too. By your room, you always tell me that life is wonderful. How could you say that? After all in despair, in the pangs of pain, in struggle just because of the urge to feel better, how could you manage to say that? You must be a strong spirit trying to conquer the hideous consequences of this world.

You are very different now. Your lips are chapped. They are faded. Your body has withered. You are now unenergetic and lethargic. Your hairs have abandoned your body. And now you are soggy because of chemo. Most of the time I pray that I should be the one to suffer that for you, just for you to realize that I am your friend and I want to see you happy again. You are a good person and you don’t deserve that illness. I often question god about that stuff. I am getting hurt whenever I see you in agony. Of how you resist the pain just to show that you are okay after all.

Two Weeks before,

We got a serious-type-conversation. You asked your mom and dad to leave the room. I felt awkward because they are your parents and you shouldn’t hide anything to them especially at this time where you are in the midst between life and death, of healing and dying. Then you said that I should trust you. That I must listen well.

“Do you remember what I have told you fifteen years before?” I didn’t answer right away.

“Of course.” I smiled.

“Then say about it.”

“It’s when we are in the park playing in the swing and you saw two families.” I said.

“And how about that?” you answered slowly.

“You said that their dads are best friends, not even relatives but they still find time to meet and letting their own kids to play with each other.” I was saddened by the thought I uttered.

“And you said that you wanted the same thing for us someday.” I continued.

Then I noticed that you have fallen asleep. Maybe your body cannot tolerate too much anesthesia. But the doctor let it because the pain is getting worse. And the sleeping pill made you fell asleep easily for you to ease the agony while silently lying in your bed, sleeping soundly.

Then I left you. I held your hand and whispered right through your ears that we would still have our kids and they will play together in the same park we used to play with too. I don’t want to say goodbye because I’ll be coming back and no one is leaving. I closed the door gently. Outside your room, emotions drowned me. I felt so embarrassed because I am not strong as you do. Then the sunset filled the earth.

Four days before,

You phoned me and asked me to visit you. You also told me that I should wear a red shirt because that is your favorite color. Then I came to your room. I was surprised that we had a picture-taking that day. Your family also wears red. And when all was set, you interrupted and asked me to join the family picture. I almost cried because of that. But I must not because we all have to look good in the picture. Then in the photo, I saw your best smile. And why I was able to say that it was your best smile? Because you have it during your most painful moment. The worst situation bearing the worst feeling. Then at the back of it you signed.

“Don’t worry, I will be alright. I will win and I will never give in. I must be strong because God wants me to witness the next sunrise until I age 100. Someday, all we be alright.”

Then you gave it to me. I said that I will be at your side every time you will witness the sunrise till you are 100. You said that I should come back on Friday. Then I bid my goodbye.

Two Days before,

It was Friday. It’s cloudy. I felt cold. I arrived at the porch of your house; I noticed that no one was there. Then I proceeded to your room. I was shocked because everybody in the house was there. Then you hardly take your breath. I was crying. I wept. And I can’t stop myself to do that. You saw me. You wanted to hold my hand but you can’t. I held yours. You smiled. A tear fell from your round bloated eyes. You wanted to say something but you can’t. I told you to be silent and take a deep rest because tomorrow’s gonna be a good day. You nodded. Then you closed your eyes. It seemed that you are just sleeping. You lay down in your bed with ease. You are now resting – eternally.

You are not breathing. Not anymore. It was the end of your agony, of your suffering. Finally you can now take a good rest and reward yourself after a troublesome life. You went ahead. Gone. Already gone. I left you in your room. I went home and I promised to myself that the next time I’ll see you, I will never cry. As I left you, rain poured heavily. I felt relieved in an instant. I know that God has shed some tears for you and I must not need to.

Now,

I am standing in front of your coffin. In the next minutes your weak body will be buried under the ground. But I know that your courageous soul will levitate up in the sky. You have lived a good life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones. But I must say sorry. I didn’t live up my promise. In the silence of your family, I cried. A lot I guess. Because I know that you are gone and you will never come back. You left me. But I must be strong just like you. I will be okay – someday. Don’t worry.

---

Original Fiction by:
Carlo Hernandez Andrion
February 14, 2010---

A tribute to a good friend:

Aaron Crisolo
Dec. 15, 1987 – Feb. 08, 2010