AMACON 4: SERENDIPITOUS (30-Day Writing Challenge)

Memories

AMACon 4: Serendipitous
Drabbles Day Five: Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

The bedside digital clock that read 7:16 am was illuminated by the light seeping in from the curtains. I should get up, I thought. But my body was being her lazy self and just won't move. Forty four minutes until I really have to get up and make myself at least look human.

I continued staring at the intricate geometrical design of the ceiling and thought, jeez, they really put in too much effort on something you can't really stare at for a long time, unless you're a coma survivor and the last thing you want to do lying down is sleep.

My mind wandered to the past months and tried to wrack my brain for memories of sounds and feelings when I was still asleep, but all I could remember was the warmth of two strong hands holding mine.

When I woke up from a year long coma, I was so disoriented, but more disappointed that when I looked around my room, no one was there. I've never felt so alone. Even when the army of nurses and doctors stormed in and started reading my monitors and asking me stupid questions like 'how do you feel' or 'are you thirsty' or 'do you know who you are,' I felt so alone.

But I guess the disoriented feeling was worse than I thought, because when the kind doctor told me I've just woken up from a year long coma, I blacked out again. The next time I opened my eyes, a nurse was checking my pulse. She smiled at me but didn't say anything. I liked her immediately. That's when I got the chance to really think about what I remember before waking up in that clorox of a room. I told her that the last memory I could remember was watching the blizzard through our car's window.

I turned to look at the clock again. 7:24 am. Thirty six minutes until my family's estate's executor will arrive. With much grunting and hesitation, I got up, washed my face, changed to a pair of blue distressed jeans and plain yellow shirt. I headed downstairs, straight to the kitchen. A tray of breakfast sat on the kitchen island, the scrambled eggs looked like they just got poured out of a pan, but Yaya Pepe was nowhere in sight. I sighed wondering where she might be. She's probably in the garden or something.

I took the tray to our formal dining room, and set it at the head of the table before I sat down. It felt like forever since the last time I've been in this room. Our long polished mahogany table, surrounded by 8 intricately carved matching mahogany chairs, still looked flawless as ever.

This used to be our favorite place in our home. We spent countless hours here eating, chatting, planning the next party or family outing. If other families reserve their formal dining room for special occasions, we did the exact opposite. It was the most used room in our home since I can remember.

During meals, we'd talk about our day and my parents would laugh, cry, or get mad at us, depending on what we did that day in school.

I remember us five children doing our homeworks here. After dinner, we'd spend half an hour of TV time, but I realize that it was just so the table could get cleaned up. Then we'd lay out our notebooks and books and finish our homeworks there while Mama looked over our shoulder and Daddy checked up on us every now and then.

I remember planning my 18th birthday on this very table and having a huge fit about my dress designs. I remember Mama assuring me that it'd be my best day ever.

I remember having a very awkward dinner when my sister formally introduced her boyfriend, and then a hilarious round of Pinoy Henyo of boys versus girls, where we played from the opposite ends of the long table.

I remember crying over my rejection letter from Harvard and my dad surprising me with the acceptance from NYU. It was the best day ever.

I looked around and could not help but embrace the surge of sadness that started to envelope me. I will never hear my mom scolding us on homeworks. I will never see my dad's secret smile and wink whenever I would ask for something and my mom would say no. I will never get to pick a fight with my brothers. I will never get to giggle with my sisters when we talk about boys. I didn't realize I was crying until I felt my tears drop on the table, just missing my plate of breakfast. I wiped my eyes and looked at each empty chair, as I take deep breaths at each painful stab in my heart at the loss of everyone I love.

"Why did you all have to leave me?" was all I could utter in between the tears that I have not gotten a chance to cry out since I got home. The push and pull of the very thin line between holding on and letting go was the worst.

I pushed the tray of food towards the middle of the table, folded my arms over the edge and buried my face in them as I let the sadness and hopelessness take over me.

"What am I going to do now?" I said, muffled by my tears.

"I guess that's where I come in?"

I snapped my head up at the sound of the voice. I blinked out my tears and got a clearer look at the young man standing at the other end of the table. I couldn't speak, in fear of embarrassing myself further if I end up just ugly crying again.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, uhm, hi. I'm your family's estate's executor?" He said, sounding unsure of himself. I just stared at him, not only because his dimple and smile were mesmerizing but because his voice was so familiar. "Uhm... is this a bad time? Because I can just come back." He said, pointing his thumb out. I blinked again.

"Oh, no. Yeah, I'm so sorry... I was expecting someone else. I mean, uhm, who are you?"

He hesitated at first, but without breaking eye contact, he walked slowly towards me until he was standing next to me.

"Hi, Nicomaine. You don't know me but I've met you before. My name is Richard and I was assigned the task of helping you continue your life and maintain your family's estate."

He held out his hand and I took it.

It was a brief handshake... but I knew right there and then that those hands had already held mine lots of times before. He looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time, but at the same time with so much familiarity like he'd memorized my face already before.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. But I'm really glad to finally see your eyes."

(Originally published in "Tapunan Ng Feelings" on January 7, 2017.)