Content Warning: Cancer
The past few years have not been going well for my family in the Philippines. My aunt, Tita Rose, was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer a few years before and her condition had been worsening in the past year. Tita Rose getting cancer did not impact me as much as it impacted my father. To me, Tita Rose was just my aunt that I would visit once every 3-4 years. But to my father, Tita Rose was his brother’s wife and mother to his nephews and niece. Right after Tita Rose’s conditioned worsened, my father took the very next flight to the Philippines.
A few weeks later, my mom unexpectedly told my sister and I, “Your Tita Rose is not doing well in the ICU, and I am planning to go support your papa and Tito Ariel in the Philippines. Would you two like to come with me?”
My sister immediately replied “yes.”
At first, I was going to say “yes”, but I hesitated and said “no.” At that moment, all I could think about were the months and months of work put into the play my class was going to perform.
A few hours later, I regretted my decision. In that few hours, my mind went to the worse possible situation that could happen if I decided to not go to the Philippines, which was my Tita Rose passing away while I’m still here.
Living in Bangkok, Thailand, I was not that close with my extended family that live far away in the Philippines or in Taiwan. Throughout my life, I probably have been to Philippines less than a dozen times. However, from these visits, I remember Tita Rose as warm and welcoming to my sister and I. Every time we visited the Philippines, she would cook my sister and I's favorite foods, which were Sinigang, pork Adobo, or Pancit. I even remember that she once took my sister and I to the mall to buy us anything we wanted. These are the only memories I have of Tita Rose from the little time I got to spend with her.
In my memory, Tita Rose always had her hair tied in a half ponytail and always wore a bright smile on her face. However, recent photos I’ve seen of my Tita Rose were of her in the hospital, her hair all gone due to chemotherapy, still smiling but not as bright.
A few days before my sister and my mom were scheduled to fly to the Philippines, my mom asked me again if I wanted to go. This time without hesitation, I said “yes”. But by the time my mom booking me a plane ticket to the Philippines, the flight was full, meaning that I would officially have to stay behind in Bangkok now.
On the day of our class’ performance, our school celebrated Songkran. To the Thais, Songkran is a celebration that marks the start of the Buddhist New Year. In terms of my ethnicity, I’m not Thai, but having grown up in Thailand, I feel like I'm part of the Thai people. The festival of Songkran has become a part of my life as I celebrate it every year.
The school would hold a yearly event where students have pay respect to their teachers before leaving for the Songkran holiday. Since I had to stay behind, I was determined to have fun and enjoy the Songkran festival and our class play to fullest.
For this event, the students would have to walk on stage, where the teachers are sat in a row, holding a traditional metal bowl that had flower petals engraved on it. The traditional metal bowl would carry scented water filled with colorful flower petals that would be poured onto the teacher’s hand, showing the student’s respect to the teacher.
Right after the Songkran event ended, our class rushed to clean the stage for our performance called “Mattanapata”, which is a story from Thai literature. Even when we knew that everybody was busy with their studies, our class took on this huge project given to us by our teachers. We worked on every little detail from the script to the songs and even the props, which were all handmade.
After 1-2 months of preparing and a week of staying after school till 10 or 11pm to practice, the whole play went smoothly with a 20 to 30-minute-long intermission at the middle. Since I was part of the props team, I stayed backstage for the whole performance. All I remember was me and my friends pushing our handmade props back and forth when the curtains were drawn and us playing around in the gym next door, turning the lights on and off during the intermission.
When the play came to an end and we had finished taking all the group pictures, I rushed off stage to meet up with Auntie Kathy and Uncle Manny, who were family friends that were taking care of me when the rest family were out of town.
As I walked towards the couple, I excitedly asked them if they enjoyed the play. They said that it was interesting given the fact that they could not understand since the whole play since it was performed in Thai. Then, Auntie Kathy suddenly became more serious and asked me “Did your papa tell you yet?”
I looked at them confused. Something must have happened.
The next thing Auntie Kathy told me was that “Tita Rose has passed.”
After the news, the couple gave me their condolences and asked me what I wanted for dinner. Still not being able to process the news, I told them anything was fine for dinner. The walk to the car was quite silent apart from greetings here and there from my classmates. The ride to the mall for dinner was even more silent with Christian songs playing softly in the background. Sitting in the backseat, I listened to the music and tried to cry, but no tears were coming out. I was not surprised that my Tita passed since I knew her situation was not good.
What I did not imagine was that she would pass while I was having a fun with my friends.
From that moment on, I always felt guilty when seeing my uncle and cousins since I was not there when they were at their worst, while the rest of my family were all there for them. Looking back, I always questioned my decision. If the first decision I made was to say “yes”, would I have been there when my Tita passed? Or would I be able to say goodbye to her one last time?
But in the end, I will always remember that I would meet my Tita again, in heaven. When that time comes, I will say sorry for not being there and ask for her forgiveness.