Every Time I Think Of You, I Lose You


The sun sets in the horizon and all I can think about is you. It is an endearing scene to watch, but at the same time, it emits inevitable sadness and yearning in my heart. The warm but misty wind might be comforting, but the palpable feeling of emptiness is always there. It gives a kind of sorrowful sentiment, like heat crashing against cool air, a phenomenon that gives birth to tropical storms. Years passed by but the ache of losing you still sends an endless whirlwind of emotion that is permanent. Looking at the sun that bids farewell in the sky with a sultry breeze that comforts my feeble heart, I read Lang Leav’s Three Questions. It caught my attention and I can relate it to you.

“What was it like to love her? It was like being exhumed and brought to life in a flash of brilliance.”

I can still remember when I was a child, you cannot carry me in your arms because of your health conditions. During preschool, while other moms are carrying their kids while going home after a whole day at school, I am only holding your hand tightly. It might not be the same as carrying me in your arms, but it doesn’t make me love you any less. Having a mother like you is like having a best friend and a sister in one. I can still remember the handwritten Mother’s Day letters that I used to give you with messy scribbles and dedications of love. I can’t help but shed tears while reading them some years after you passed away. They weren’t fancy, but you keep them. Until this day, they never fail to bring me to tears.

“What was it like to be loved in return? It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.”

Thinking about you is like opening a box full of memories. Memories that are bittersweet and candidly hurtful. During my first trip home after three years of working in the Middle East, I saw old photographs. One of the pictures seems valuable among all those, it was a photograph taken during my baptismal day. The picture depicts your endearing gaze towards the infant child you are holding. I might not be the perfect baby for being small and underweight for my age during that time, but I can see the love in your eyes. Thank you, Mom—thank you for braving the odds and bringing me into this world despite them saying that I couldn’t make it through. It was through your love that I was able to win the difficult battle of prematurity.

“What was it like to lose her? There was a long pause before I responded. Losing her was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me—said all at once.”

It took almost two decades until the word “Mom” lost meaning to me. It doesn’t matter how many years passed by because the pain of losing you still lingers. It is totally heartbreaking to lose someone like you, and my life will never be the same again.

For me, losing you doesn’t just happen once, because every time I think of you, I lose you.