02/23/24

There was this little kid, a kid who was full of dreams, full of hope, and full of beautiful imaginations.
How could he ask for more? He got a loving family and friends. Stable, and comfortable. Why would he
ask for more? Isn’t living peacefully enough? What could he ask for more? Eating three times a day and
coming home to familiar loving faces. I guess anything isn’t really enough.

I’m Johnelson Miranda, and this is my story.

In a chilly cold night in January 05, 2006, I was born. My existence was created. I guess this is where
problems began, jk. I don’t really have a story to tell from when I was born, I just suddenly regain
consciousness when I was like 4ish and I still remember that it was on a car. Back then, everything is
color blue. Everything seems to be peaceful. I thought life is only playing computer games, playing toys
with my siblings and crying just because I’m bored. I wish it was like that. Going to my moms and dads
work was the best time I’ve had. I remember hiding in like a back alley of the office because the
supervisor was inspecting, although it’s not particularly forbidden but my mom really just like being the
top officer, lol. I love being that office kid. The trips to elyu, always loved the whole ride, we’ll stop by
manaoag church and theres this particular restaurant in Pangasinan, I can’t remember the name but I
swear they’re the reason why I grew up chubby lol. The ocean scenic drive throughout, the gusts of
wind, the laughter with each other. I miss it, I wish it never went away. I wish every bad thng that
happened did not happen at all. I wish this family is still talking and laughing like we always did. I guess,
that’s how it is.

That everything happened in January 2014, 10 years ago. I always see my mom throwing up everything
she eats, gradually losing everything she worked hard for. A week after my birthday, she was diagnosed
with liver and kidney cancer. It seems like everything fell right after that. I remember, the last birthday I
had with her, I woke up at 5 am, and there she is, cooking my favourite spaghetti like everything is just
alright. I was a naïve kid back then and didn’t notice that she was slowly losing it, her body is slowly
giving up. I wish I said I love you; I wish I said to just rest if shes not feeling alright. I wish. Everything was
so fast. They constantly switched hospitals, from CLDH, Jecsons, UST, Lukes, I can’t even remember. A
month passed and they eventually got tired, and decided to just put her in home confinement. I still
remember the day, I was tasked to look after my mom in her room, my sibs and I was. But, then the
neighbour kids showed up at our doorstep and invited us to playover, the kid in us of course got over,
figured she still asleep so we went out. My dad arrived and angrily called us out, my mom was screaming
in pain because she missed her meds, and there we were, playing tag with the neighbours. By that, I
realized. It was serious. The day after, she was rushed to the hospital again. We stayed there the whole
February. I promised myself that I’ll never leave her, that I’ll be by her side. February passed, passed like
a bullet. All of it were so fast. She’s in home confinement once again. School Year is ending this month,
my sisters graduation was in march 29, 2014. Although she can barely speak by then, we still talked to
her, and I know she’s excited for my sister’s graduation. She’s happy that she’ll see her daughter in a
toga. March 29, exactly 4 am. I woke up to my dad and siblings crying, freaking out. I just woke up by
then but I already knew why, but I kept convinicing my self that it wasn’t that news. I had hard time
stepping out of that bed, felt like I was glued to it. The neighbours, my relatives were there too. I finally
had the courage to check it out and face it after a minute. I just broke down and cry, seeing my mother
lying down like that, not breathing. But I guess I was glad that she wasn’t gonna feel any pain, and can
finally rest peacefully. The trip to the local funeral parlor was the hardest trip ive had ever taken, and I
wish I don’t ever have to feel it again. March 29, my sisters graduation in the morning. Though they were
convincing me to come, I didn’t have the apetite. My sister doesn’t even wanna go, but my dad said that
my mother would be happy, seeing her step up on that stage and receive that diploma.

I wish I could talk more about my happy childhood; I wish I didn’t have to tell this story. But this story is
what made me who I am today, a miserable and messed up kid. I guess that happy family was taken to
grave with my mother unknowingly.