Chapter 24

"I WANT TO BE there for you. I don't care about my scholarship. I can't stop thinking about you. And it pains me not being beside you right now."

Art's words never stopped playing in my mind. When he called his mother to get an update, he asked for me immediately upon hearing the news.

He was insistent, but I didn't let him persuade me. I couldn't allow him to let go of his future by coming back. Leaving Munich would mean him leaving his scholarship behind. Even though I wanted to feel his touch and be with him as I mourned my mom, I couldn't be selfish.

I assured him that Auntie Jennie's presence gave me all the needed help and strength. Although deep inside, loneliness, sadness, and longing crept into me. There were so many questions, yet I couldn't think of one answer.

Why my Mom? How will I live without her?

The following days went by fast. I could only remember glimpses of fleeting events and people saying their condolences and expressing their comforting words from the first night of the funeral to the burial day. A few people from our Brooklyn neighborhood my mom stayed in touch with were the ones closest to a family who came to pay their respects. My relatives from the Philippines joined me through numerous video calls most days.

Despite the relentless support and genuine concern of Avery, her parents, and Art's mom, I still felt alone sometimes. I knew I was doing the right thing by shutting down Art's insistence to come home. But deep within me was the desire to beg him to be with me.

***

After six long days of chaos and tears, the time to come home gave me another realization. When you come home after the burial, the sadness of being left behind by a loved one is tremendous. You feel all the tiredness, anxiety, and longing when you return to an empty house.

Upon entering our living room, numerous framed pictures of me and my mom welcomed me. The dread of being alone forever jolted in my veins. The coffee table, always full of my mom's books, reading glasses, and coffee mug, was empty for the first time. Thinking it would now be an open space forever caused my heart to pound.

It was like deja vu. It flashed back to me when we returned home after my father's burial. A deep longing and emptiness filled my heart for a reason I couldn't comprehend then. But I wouldn't forget when my mom pulled me into her lap and embraced me tightly as I slowly wiped the tears from her cheeks with my little fingers.

Now I know why. Mom felt the longing and sadness of losing the love of her life. A sadness so deep you can never fathom. I wonder how fearful she felt. Her tight embrace must be a sign of how she kept asking herself if she could carry on raising me alone because it was the same feeling overflowing in my body. But unlike her, I only have a throw pillow to embrace tight and my hands to wipe my tears.

"Oh, dear!"

Auntie Jenny's voice and arms wrapped around me turned my quiet tears into sobs. The silence in the house and my mom's absence hit me. I'm alone for real. My mom won't be here whenever I come back home from Connecticut. She couldn't answer my call or reply to my messages. She won't get the chance to see me pregnant with her first grandchild. My one and only parent is gone. I don't have a family anymore.

"You are not alone, my dear. You may not have your mother beside you, but you always have a mother in me. Art, me, and the baby are your family now."

Even though I wanted to acknowledge her words, the strings of emotions overpowered everything in me. The pain made me speechless. Loneliness weakened me. And reality empowered the fear in me.

One thing undeniable is that, as humans, we have the inner strength to go with life's flow of events, however sorrowful we are. Our body floats along as people around us lead us to continue moving. And that's what I'd been feeling all along.

Our bodies and minds are tenacious. However painful or complex, or life-altering an experience is, we tend to bend. It's not that we forget the loved ones we lose in this world as days pass, nor the pain lessens by the minute. The truth is we start living with the pain of losing.

Letting the pain decide our remaining existence is what makes the difference. Some people allow it to empower them. But sometimes, others use the pain to let themselves die little by little.

"My dear, you have to eat. It's not just for you but for the baby. You have to be strong for the little blessing inside you."

Avery's parents and Art's mother made me miss my mom more. I've never thought I would be losing Mom unexpectedly in a million years. Especially at this time of my life when I should enjoy her company and guidance as I navigate pregnancy and motherhood.

How I wish to be even just half as the great mother, mine had been to me. She was fearless when she raised me alone. Her intense motivation to give me the best life despite challenges and adversities kept her going. She was dependable and hardworking.

All of the regrets came rushing to me. Indeed, we can only realize one's worth and blame ourselves for not spending more time with the ones we love when we lose the chance of doing all we could have done.

***

"Have you told Art about my godchild?"

Avery's hand slowly caressed my baby bump as we lay together in bed. It had been a month since we came back to our college apartment. Despite the suggestions of her mom and Auntie Jenny that I take a leave of absence for the semester, I declined.

I knew their concern was coming from a good place. But I couldn't imagine being alone in our Boston home, waiting for no one. Besides the numerous food cravings and the sudden showing of my belly, I felt healthy and normal.

Honestly, what motivated me to continue despite the never-ending mourning for Mom's loss was her memory. I knew she would have done the same if she were in my shoes. She will never let anything hinder her from reaching her goals. And I decided to do that.

"I guess your mother is daydreaming again, baby," Avery whispered to my belly as her hand patted gently.

"I am not!" I took a deep breath. "I just remembered her. She would have bought numerous baby stuff if she were here."

"For sure, just like my mom and Auntie Jennie were doing." Avery suddenly sat in bed and faced me. "I hate to address the elephant in the room, but the nosy mothers in our family asked me to. When are you going to tell Art?"

I sighed aloud and gently touched my stomach. "I was thinking when I called to greet Art on his birthday. His presentation is coming, and I wouldn't want to worry him now."

Avery nodded. Her eyes never left mine. "Auntie Jenny is so tempted to tell Art, but she doesn't want to overstep her boundaries. But you understand her, right?"

I smiled and nodded. "Trust me, I know. I'm just waiting for the right time."

"I hope you don't wait for the time he needs to cut the umbilical cord when you decide to tell Art. He's just a phone call away, Shells. He'd been missing a lot!"

Yeah. Avery was right. Art had missed many first during this pregnancy. Every time Auntie Jenny and I go to my doctor's appointment, I see the sadness in her eyes. Knowing her son, the father of my child, who was a thousand miles away, had no idea he would soon be a father.

Sometimes I wonder what Art could have done if I had told him when I learned of my pregnancy. Was I right in thinking he would have given up his scholarship and come home? What if I were wrong, and instead, it would have motivated him more to stay? Art knowing that he has all the more reason to complete his studies, will undoubtedly lead to a brighter future for him and our new family.

But what's done was done. I can never go back and wallow in my what-ifs. I realized I shouldn't wait for Art's birthday, months away.

"I will tell Art tonight when he calls me."

Life is too short to let times slip by. Every milestone, however small or significant, is special. And special moments must be shared with the people we love, not kept from them.

"That's good news, Shells! Our mother would be so happy! I'm sure Art will be ecstatic!"

A smile curved into my lips, hearing what Avery said. I felt a sudden jolt in my stomach as if the little bundle of joy inside celebrates the good news too.

"Triple OMG, Ave! I think the baby just moved!"

***