I just found out my aunt, whom I call Tita Lading, has died. We have not seen each other in more than 12 years. She was with me growing up, and even took care of me as a child. When my mother died, she went back home to Davao.
We have yet to receive details around her death, but apparently, she started complaining about intense stomach ache that warranted a visit to the emergency room. She died soon after she arrived. Apparently, the official cause is heart attack. She was 45 years old.
She was a quirky lady. She was different from her sisters. She used to be the black sheep. But I loved her in my little child heart nonetheless. I remember being sad about her going back to our province.
The saddest thing about her death is she hadn’t wed with her husband. They one time we talked recently, she said they were planning to marry finally. They were excited, and said they were still saving up. I can’t imagine what her husband must feel. They had two kids together. I can’t imagine how they feel. And I say that even if I was also around the same age when my own mother died.
The poor children’s lives are going to change drastically now without their mother. I don’t know if I believe in a god anymore, but if someone or anyone like Him exists, I hope and pray they give me the capacity to help these cousins of mine. They will need all the help they can get.
I can’t imagine how my aunt Bhing must feel right now, too. She’s the one I’m living with right now that I treat like my own mother. They were four sisters, and now she’s the only one left. She must feel so alone, even scared maybe. Possibly, even thinking when her time would come as well.
It’s weird being the man of the house and having someone in your family die. I think my aunt should be grieving more than me since they were together longer, and it makes me feel guilty to be grieving in a more outward and visible way.
Death sucks. I hope she had lived a life she was happy living.