Lost

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Call me a wimp.

There. I have said it. After thirty-plus years of existence I have finally said it aloud, to anyone who might care to listen. Blame it on my middle-child upbringing, in a large family at that — not to mention a family with parents and siblings who seemed to perform certain things well, sometimes with what I perceived to be little effort. It required of me to grow up wanting to find my own niche, to find my own strength, to be able to stand on my own two feet. It required of me to hide the chinks in my armor, to never let them know when I was hurting deep inside.

Until now.

I did not realize how much your loss would render me incapable of resuming my previous life, of finding my way back. Strange, how we had virtually mapped out my life from the very first I could coherently remember. Do well in grade school. Study in Philippine Science. Qualify for the Intarmed Program. Train in Surgery. With a small measure of immodesty, I believe I have done all that. But now what? You, who have helped plan my life, where are you? What am I supposed to do now? Where am I supposed to go from here?

It is strange how I used to wonder why my life plan had always stopped at graduating from Surgical Training. Never could I have realized that maybe, for some unfathomable reason, you knew that that was where our paths would forever diverge.

I would hate to think of disappointing you now, with my sudden loss of direction. But I need time to re-calibrate myself. To once again find my North Star. Would it that you can again show me, how much clearer would my path from hereon be. But the silence is deafening, and the emptiness, overwhelming.

I miss your presence deeply.