When Lights are off

By: Julysa R. Caseres

One. No. Two. Please. Three. Helpless. Kids usually do it. Thinking that they might win their mother’s hearts, they would often request on not turning off the light during bedtime. “It’s okay, honey. Nothing’s scary about sleeping while lights are off. Go now and sleep”. Mothers usually respond with friendly curves on their faces.

That is what some children do, and I have done it myself too. I don’t like it when lights are off until one day, someone has come and told me how he has managed to survive out from the light that was permanently off. His bravery amazes me. Perhaps, it is during dark times that we can showcase the courage that’s inside us, and this will become our light that would guide us throughout the way.

Two years prior to the summer of meeting him, he had an ideal life. He had two siblings whom he considered his best dudes; a father who was not perfect but was trying to be the best he could be, and a mother whom he loved the most. His family was all he needed. Every storm, trial, success and achievement could be worth facing and celebrating so long as he’s with them. Their house, further, was no ordinary building---- it’s a well-lit home. Laughter could be heard out from that house until suddenly everything was changed.

His mother was brought to the nearest hospital one day, suffering from mild strokes. She was diagnosed having hypertension. Ordinarily, the diagnosis had not become of great surprise, since t’was common. But as a kid, he knew something’s wrong and he needed every positive explanation.

Times passed and his mother maintained medications. Evidences of improvement were seen. He became more hopeful and longed to see her walk normally again. He wanted to see her smile the way she did when everything was under normal condition. However, improvement didn’t last long. Mild strokes worsen and it occurred more frequently. She was trapped in a corner of the house, allowed to execute only limited movements. Perhaps, he had said, “no” during that time, rejecting the possibility of seeing things totally broken.

More and more times passed, less and less hope remained. She became severely ill. She lay helpless in her bed, unable to walk and see the sunlight. He saw her longing to survive in her eyes. He wanted to help her, but the idea that they already had done everything they could do hurt him all the more. Surely, he had had uttered the word “please” during those times, pleading God to rescue his mother from that heartbreaking situation right away. She’s the only woman in the family. She’s the only one who could understand him the way men couldn’t do. He had been praying until the thing they had never dreamed of experiencing happened.

She died. He was helpless. The light was gone and what’s more painful for him was that it was turned off the moment he was weak and weary. He craved for hope but it was with her­­---six feet below the ground. He had a hard time moving on for what surrounded him was darkness. Yet this darkness made him appreciate the little presence of light around him. He continued moving forward day by day. It was then that he realized that the world around was no longer as dim as before. Gradually, he found himself learning to live life without the light that he was once used to have.

I feel I like I am slapped in my face. I have been so coward of losing the temporary light in this transient world while someone out here had tried to be firm though he has permanently lost his’. I realize I have never grown.  Maybe this is because I have been overstaying in the light. I realize that I need to train myself into becoming a strength-driven person. Perhaps I can start when lights are off..