Started at my new office this last week, which I won’t disclose here, for obvious reasons.
It helps with the grief, because it’s a new place, new faces, something to focus on, instead of the soul-crushing grief and loneliness I feel whenever it’s time to go home.
It’s only just my brother now, and slowly and surely, it’s sinking in that it’s just the two of us now and we really do need to watch out for each other.
My real life friends and relatives are amazing and I do need to make an effort now, more than ever, to keep the connections going. Because I can’t go mad with grief. I can’t give in to despair. I am Mommy Duck’s daughter - she wants me to fight and to be strong and to keep going.
There are things I have to sort out, the bits and pieces of Mom’s life, burial assistance, death claims, debts.
It was just last month, that she was with us. That I got to hug her and tell her that I loved her, to hear her voice saying that she loved me just as much.
I dream of her now - maybe Morpheus is kind enough to let her visit me in my sleep, as my other dead loved ones do. When she does, I sleep well.
Sometimes, I hear her voice clearly: I love you, my Duckling. Waddle-waddle! Pray to St. Michael. Don’t forget to eat!
And sometimes, I hear this, which she’s never said in life: I’ll always be here, anak. Huwag kang susuko. Lumaban ka. Andito lang ako. Andito lang kami ng Daddy mo.
I will hold on to that. I won’t fear the end now, when it comes, and it won’t come yet for a long, long time. I’ll work and live and travel. I’ll waddle waddle to the places we both wanted to go.
One day, I’ll open my eyes and Daddy Alien and Mommy Duck will be there to take my hand, and we’ll go together to that beautiful land with white shores and a swift sunrise.
