Sambitory H.A. Suma Jr.

[sambitorysumajr]

PROOFREAD BY: NEIL COLLINS VELEZ

Memorable Experience no.1

                 There will come a time in everyone's life when a memorable event will occur. It depends on the situation whether it is favorable or unpleasant, but it will be remembered for the rest of one's life. In my situation, this life-changing incident occurred on the day my grandmother passed away. The death of a loved one is one of the most difficult topics to discuss, but I will never forget that chapter of my life, since it was as if one story continued while the other stopped.

                 It was on(in) the eighth month of the year way back 2017, I (can) recall the event as if it had only occured a week ago. I had gone to school that day, expecting it to be a usual morning at school for my eighth-grade self. Unfortunately, my mother called to inform me (including my siblings) that (we) needed to return home and then waited until we were seated side by side, calm and unexpected, to deliver(receive) news that neither my siblings nor I could have predicted: my grandma had collapsed and had just passed away. I just froze (frozed), as if time had stopped. I'll never forget my heart dropping and thudding inside of me, and being so astonished that I couldn't move or speak for a minute. My mind couldn't even begin to grasp the news I just heard, so I (eventually) asked my mother a question that even I couldn't understand,"What do you mean? She died?" I couldn't comprehend that the woman I'd known and loved since I was a kid would no longer be a phone call away, even though I heard and understood everything she said. Another scene from that day that I will never forget is my father returning home and watching him cry for the first time in my life. To explain, his mother, his role model, and his personal idol had all vanished off the face of the earth without warning. Imagine our own fathers, parents, and role models dying and leaving us with nothing but a remembrance of who they were throughout their lives. My father arrived home from work that night, much earlier than usual, and hugged my mother, me, and each of my siblings individually, before explaining what had transpired and what had happened earlier that day. I was speechless when I finally heard what had transpired. My mother sent my sisters and me up to our rooms, but I chose to slip down my stairs to listen (to) my parents' talk. Instead, I witnessed my father, a man I thought was enormous, scary, and courageous, crying into my mother's arms, experiencing pain as he reiterated that he had never said goodbye. The sight of my own father crying hurt almost as much as the news I'd gotten earlier in the day. Knowing there was nothing I could do to alleviate my family's suffering or assist my parents made me hopeless. Who would now come home to console us and offer support to my older sisters, who are also bereft? Reminiscing about the days I spent with my grandmother made me nostalgic for the pleasant moments I had shared with her, and I realized that I would never see her again. This was the component that affected me the most. I remember her slipping some paper money into my wallet telling me I needed to eat more since I was too skinny, and the long and slow walks in the country side with her that have always brought out my genuine smiles. Grieving describe the way people adjust when a tough transition happens in their lives. Death of a loved one is a significant change, and people cope and grieve in various ways. It's tough to predict how you'll react or grieve until you're faced with a terrible situation. You could want to sit alone in your room. But, at the end of the day, you must express yourself and cry.

 My grandmother's death was an incident that helped me mature and understand the genuine meaning of loss. No one can ever be prepared for the death of a loved one, no matter how old, sick, or injured they are. I'll never forget the day my grandma died, the words my mother said to me, her voice breaking as she informed me, or the sensation of a dagger piercing my heart after hearing the worst news I'd ever heard. As a result, while one can never prepare for an unforgettable moment in one's life, whether good or bad, it is something that will change them for the rest of their lives. Finally, my grandmother’s death was an experience I will never forget, and hope to never go through that complicated feeling (experience) ever again.

            Memorable experience no.2

 Have you ever felt afraid to confide in your parents? When you're (you were) a kid with strict parents, (did) it seem like there (was) never a good time to tell your stories? I was used to having these kinds of uneasy feelings. My parents were always protective of me because I was the youngest and (the) only boy in the family. Every time I tried to go out, I'd be barraged with questions. "And where are you off to this time?" " "Can you tell me who you're meeting with?”, “Have I met them before? "Ask your father because I'm not allowing you," (these) were just some of the interrogations I was subjected to and mocked for. I was depressed as a teenager because I felt like I was missing out on a lot of opportunities. However, this is also the very reason this experience of mine came to life.

 It was like any other Saturday at my house that night. I ate my dinner in a rush(rushed), ran into the living room afterward to watch television, and quickly fell asleep. My mom was always sure to wake me up around 7:30 am or 8:00 am and make me hear an earful of her nagging. Usually I would go to my room to sleep like a log, but not on this certain Saturday night. There are always some certain nights where every teenager went (go) out and sneaked (sneak) out of their houses. Myself, being eleven years old and practically a teenager, was in the mindset that I was just as deserving to go out as any other teenagers. My parents did not agree with my philosophy so I had to give myself permission to go out of the house. That night at exactly 1am, I checked my parents room, my sisters room and lastly the washrooms in order to check if all of my family members are sleeping soundly. They were, and that gave me the green signal to proceed to my plan. I stuffed my blanket with pillows just like what I’ve watched on Hollywood movies and started to tiptoe towards the back door that I purposely left unlocked the night before. As soon as I’m (I was) out of the house, I looked around in this empty and silent subdivision. I was ecstatic, I don’t (didn’t) know where to go but I was for sure happy and contented. I walked aimlessly, till I reached the highway. Again it was empty, I feel (felt) like I was in some alternate world where the only human alive was me. That gave my idiotic mind an idea, to shout and run around across the highway. For a few minutes I ran around till I heard a siren from the barangay patrol few kilometers away from me. As an innocent and ignorant child, I panicked and started to run back on our subdivision. I was scared, the sound of the siren was gradually nearing and the heartbeat of mine also gradually went faster. I was terrified, millions of what if’s came rushing into my mind and that forcefully made me think straight and leave that imaginary alternate world of mine. I knew what to do, but my thighs went numb and I can’t even walk straight. I hid behind a car parked at the end of the street and sat for a few minutes. That few minutes was just the chance I could catch my breath, but my rest was disturbed as few dogs was barking at me from a distance. Me, a person with cynophobia felt the shivers around my spine knew that once I give in I’ll probably passed out. But I was terrified more about the thought of me passing out in the middle of the street, not because of the dogs or because of the barangay patrols but because of the nagging and scolding I’ll get from my parents. I was convinced (that) I should immediately go home, I picked up a rock and threw it to the dogs and ran as fast as I could. Luckily, I lost the dogs and safely arrived home. As I was catching my breath, I opened the door and immediately saw my Mom standing before it. I thought to myself, “so this is how I die, huh?”. I was hopelessly looking at my Mom; I know (knew) that there would be no alibi that would suffice. We were standing face to face for a few minutes that felt like eternity. However, the silence broke as I saw my father caressing his belt and handed it to my Mom. That was when I knew, I messed up.

 This is the result of a youngster that was raised by incredibly strict parents who cared for and nurtured him throughout his life. Now that I'm older, the only value I see in life is loving the people you surround yourself with, following their beliefs, carrying on their principles, and becoming everything they wanted you to be. Wasn't that the goal of life in the first place? Own up to your parents' wisdom, learn from them, spread their words, become the person they wanted you to be, be good and do good, and go above and beyond? Because it is for this reason that we were placed on this planet in the first place. Our actual purpose and meaning in life is to raise a family and spread love over the planet.

[sambitorysumajr]

YOLO

Have you ever felt afraid to confide in your parents? When you're a kid with strict parents, it seems like there's never a good time to tell your stories? I was used to having these kinds of uneasy feelings. My parents were always protective of me because I was the youngest and only boy in the family. Every time I tried to go out, I'd be barraged with questions. "And where are you off to this time?" " "Can you tell me who you're meeting with?”, “Have I met them before? "Ask your father because I'm not allowing you," were just some of the interrogations I was subjected to and mocked for. I was depressed as a teenager because I felt like I was missing out on a lot of opportunities. However, this is also the very reason this experience of mine came to life.

It was like any other Saturday at my house that night. I ate my dinner in a rush, ran into the living room afterward to watch television, and quickly fell asleep. My mom was always sure to wake me up around 7:30 am or 8:00 am and make me hear an earful of her nagging. Usually I would go to my room to sleep like a log, but not on this certain Saturday night. There are always some certain nights where every teenager went out and sneaked out of their houses. Myself, being eleven years old and practically a teenager, was in the mindset that I was just as deserving to go out as any other teenagers. My parents did not agree with my philosophy so I had to give myself permission to go out of the house. That night at exactly 1am, I checked my parents room, my sisters room and lastly the washrooms in order to check if all of my family members are sleeping soundly. They were, and that gave me the green signal to proceed to my plan. I stuffed my blanket with pillows just like what I’ve watched on Hollywood movies and started to tiptoe towards the back door that I purposely left unlocked the night before. As soon as I’m out of the house, I looked around in this empty and silent subdivision. I was ecstatic, I don’t know where to go but I was for sure happy and contented. I walked aimlessly, till I reached the highway. Again it was empty, I feel like I was in some alternate world where the only human alive was me. That gave my idiotic mind an idea, to shout and run around across the highway. For a few minutes I ran around till I heard a siren from the barangay patrol few kilometers away from me. As an innocent and ignorant child, I panicked and started to run back on our subdivision. I was scared, the sound of the siren was gradually nearing and the heartbeat of mine also gradually went faster. I was terrified, millions of what if’s came rushing into my mind and that forcefully made me think straight and leave that imaginary alternate world of mine. I knew what to do, but my thighs went numb and I can’t even walk straight. I hid behind a car parked at the end of the street and sat for a few minutes. That few minutes was just the chance I could catch my breath, but my rest was disturbed as few dogs was barking at me from a distance. Me, a person with cynophobia felt the shivers around my spine knew that once I give in I’ll probably passed out. But I was terrified more about the thought of me passing out in the middle of the street, not because of the dogs or because of the barangay patrols but because of the nagging and scolding I’ll get from my parents. I was convinced I should immediately go home, I picked up a rock and threw it to the dogs and ran as fast as I could. Luckily, I lost the dogs and safely arrived home. As I was catching my breath, I opened the door and immediately saw my Mom standing before it. I thought to myself, “so this is how I die, huh?”. I was hopelessly looking at my Mom; I know that there would be no alibi that would suffice. We were standing face to face for a few minutes that felt like eternity. However, the silence broke as I saw my father caressing his belt and handed it to my Mom. That was when I knew, I messed up.

This is the result of a youngster that was raised by incredibly strict parents who cared for and nurtured him throughout his life. Now that I'm older, the only value I see in life is loving the people you surround yourself with, following their beliefs, carrying on their principles, and becoming everything they wanted you to be. Wasn't that the goal of life in the first place? Own up to your parents' wisdom, learn from them, spread their words, become the person they wanted you to be, be good and do good, and go above and beyond. Because it is for this reason that we were placed on this planet in the first place. Our actual purpose and meaning in life is to raise a family and spread love over the planet.

[sambitorysumajr]

Bereaved

There will come a time in everyone's life when a memorable event will occur. It depends on the situation whether it is favorable or unpleasant, but it will be remembered for the rest of one's life. In my situation, this life-changing incident occurred on the day my grandmother passed away. The death of a loved one is one of the most difficult topics to discuss, but I will never forget that chapter of my life, since it was as if one story continued while the other stopped.

It was on the eighth month of the year way back 2017, I recall the event as if it had occurred only a week ago. I had gone to school that day, expecting it to be a usual morning at school for my eighth-grade self. Unfortunately, my mother called to inform me that I needed to return home and then waited until we were seated side by side, calm and unexpected, to deliver news that neither my siblings nor I could have predicted: my grandma had collapsed and had just passed away. I just froze, as if time had stopped. I'll never forget my heart dropping and thudding inside of me, and being so astonished that I couldn't move or speak for a minute. My mind couldn't even begin to grasp the news I'd just heard, so I eventually asked my mother a question that even I couldn't understand,"What do you mean? She died?" I couldn't comprehend that the woman I'd known and loved since I was a kid would no longer be a phone call away, even though I heard and understood everything she said. Another scene from that day that I will never forget is my father returning home and watching him cry for the first time in my life. To explain, his mother, his role model, and his personal idol had all vanished off the face of the earth without warning. Imagine our own fathers, parents, and role models dying and leaving us with nothing but a remembrance of who they were throughout their lives. My father arrived home from work that night, much earlier than usual, and hugged my mother, me, and each of my siblings individually before explaining what had transpired and what had happened earlier that day. I was speechless when I finally heard what had transpired. My mother sent my sisters and me up to our rooms, but I chose to slip down my stairs to listen in on my parents' talk. Instead, I witnessed my father, a man I thought was enormous, scary, and courageous, crying into my mother's arms, experiencing pain as he reiterated that he had never said goodbye. The sight of my own father crying hurt almost as much as the news I'd gotten earlier in the day. Knowing there was nothing I could do to alleviate my family's suffering or assist my parents made me hopeless. Who would now come home to console us and offer support to my older sisters, who are also bereft? Reminiscing about the days I spent with my grandmother made me nostalgic for the pleasant moments I had shared with her, and I realized that I would never see her again. This was the component that affected me the most. I remember her slipping some paper money into my wallet telling me I needed to eat more since I was too skinny, and the long and slow walks in the country side with her that have always brought out my genuine smiles. Grieving describe the way people adjust when a tough transition happens in their lives. Death of a loved one is a significant change, and people cope and grieve in various ways. It's tough to predict how you'll react or grieve until you're faced with a terrible situation. You could want to sit alone in your room. But, at the end of the day, you must express yourself and cry.

My grandmother's death was an incident that helped me mature and understand the genuine meaning of loss. No one can ever be prepared for the death of a loved one, no matter how old, sick, or injured they are. I'll never forget the day my grandma died, the words my mother said to me, her voice breaking as she informed me, or the sensation of a dagger piercing my heart after hearing the worst news I'd ever heard. As a result, while one can never prepare for an unforgettable moment in one's life, whether good or bad, it is something that will change them for the rest of their lives. Finally, my grandmother’s death was an experience I will never forget, and hope to never go through that complicated feeling ever again.