Day 3 at the hospital. Sunday.
The sun is setting slowly. I don’t see it, but I see its light reflecting against the glass windows of the second tower of Makati Med. I always liked sunsets. Sunsets remind me of afternoons in the park, sliding along metal and running across grass back when I used to train for soccer (a really brief stint, you should know). Sunsets remind me of days turning into nights at the pool, playing mermaids, airplanes (don’t ask), tag, sipping mocha milkshakes and eating french fries, or walking along a treadmill in a gym that was always empty. Sunsets remind me of massages by the beach, mojitos for happy hour, cool fruit shakes and freezing ocean. Sunsets have good memories. Sunsets are good.
It’s quiet. Mom’s sleeping; it’s good that she is because she hardly gets sleep at night. It’s one of those times when she isn’t too stressed with what’s going on at home, in her family, with the telecom, her patients or anything in between that tries her patience. Mom’s tired, and I’m glad that she’s resting. I’m just sad that the only time she can rest is when she’s in the hospital, with no one bothering her. I love spending time with my mom. My mom’s like the sunset – full of good memories.
After every sunset though is darkness. Some nights are good; some nights are bad. I’m about to plunge into a week’s worth of darkness – four months of hard work resting into a week of final examinations. I wish it were easy, but becoming a lawyer or a professional in general never is.
So I’m cherishing this sunset. Who knows when I’ll be able to appreciate it next?