Questa è Enida

He was determined to finish his homework by nightfall. Got himself a piece of sugar paper from Mommy’s office downstairs after fighting his own fear to be down there alone. It has been quiet on the ground floor since Teddy’s passing.

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“I’m learning about shadow, Mom. I need to cut out a figure of any shape. And I need two of them.”

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I helped him with the cat shape, of course, and assumed that the M was for Me, the Mommy. I wasn’t ready to hear, “No Mom, M is for Meow.” It was safer to assume, as rejection, even in a small matter like this, matters to mothers.

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It wasn’t long after that that he felt nauseous and had to run for the sink. He lost everything that he had taken today; lunch, the sandwich, the cucumber, the tomatoes, the apple snack, the lot. It all pickled down the drain. Oh my dear Little Big Man.

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I am sleeping in the living room tonight, with my eyes wide open, guarding my little Abang Sado, closer than his own shadow… one hand holding a barf bag, the other a roll of paper towels. Charcoal pills, check. Tiger balm, check. Love, check. Tenderness, check. Patience, check check!

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It has been a while since he last got ill. It was almost nostalgic tonight putting a diaper on Edrick, hosing down his soiled undies and mopping the floor after a projectile muntah. But he will be well soon. I know for sure.

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I am here.

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