24th January, 2016. 06:45pm

sudden nocturnal death syndrome

Photo c/o:

It’s funny how I keep saying these days that it feels as if I’m almost into the finish line, and then, just when you thought you’re about to hit first place, someone beats you to it. Someone totally unexpected.

Last Sunday I go to bed early because I was feeling feverish. I didn’t take any meds because I thought it was just like one of those days and I can sleep it off anyway, but no. At around 2am I was chilling and my body aches in every places and my sore throat worsens and goddammit why is my neck sore, too? Fortunately, and since I don’t have to go anywhere at Monday morning because I work at nights here in Manila, I practically just spent the entire day in bed, hoping to get better. I didn’t get to take meds until later that day and my condition must be that bad because I saw my Mom in my dreams twice… In two different scenarios.

The first dream went like this: I was in an old building, something like a dorm or a school or a house, and it’s filled with people I know, but can’t remember who exactly because I didn’t pay much attention to them. But while I never paid much attention to the people around me, one thing stuck with me: what they wanted me to do, which is to jump. I don’t know why but I give in to it. I climbed up the rooftop to jump, and just as I reached the last step, as I was looking through my surroundings and the part I might land on, my Mom came and stopped me. She grabbed my hand and didn’t let go until I was down the ledge.

Some things then happened in my dreams that I can’t remember anymore, but the next thing I knew, there she was again, dragging me into what looks like a mall. She was pretty upset. To what or whom, I don’t know. I hope not me, because she looked pretty frustrated with things around her.

I felt much better now, except for my throat, which has always been a bitch, but nothing I can’t handle. So why the theatrics? Because just when I thought I was gonna die because I didn’t take pills for fever and flu, someone took that place. Someone who could potentially do more for the world than me.

This morning (err, night) I woke up to my brother’s text saying that he was in a funeral home because our Aunt’s son died that morning. He was, I’m not even sure how old he was (12-17, I guess?), but he was young and he died in his sleep. How ironic is that? It then made me think of my situation and whether someone actually took my place. Could that have been me? Why him?

I really don’t know the kid much even though we’re cousins, except the fact that he’s the one with autism but he’s handled it well now.

Btw, side note, he’s ten. I just found out on Facebook and that it was Cardiac Arrest, not Sudden Nocturnal Death Syndrome. He’s freaking ten years old. Why? Why does it have to be him? And holy shit, how awful must my Aunt and Uncle feels that their son died without them beside him. Okay, that’s morbid, but no really. That’s horrible!

Sometimes with events like this you can’t help but wonder, why did God give us this little peanut only to be taken from us a couple of years later? Kids are supposed to bury their parents, not the other way around, so why does this have to happen? Why this ten-year-old kid instead of the thousand others who have done way more terrible things in the world? And then you look back, you gotta look back, and realize that it’s not the end of the world yet. Yes, to lose someone you love so suddenly, regardless of how old they are, is unbearable. But we also have to think of who and what’s left of us, and that at least, he is in the hands of a much more capable hands and free from all the cruelty of the world.

Rest in peace, Andrew. Say hello and thank you to my Mom for me, will you?





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