As I write this, I just can’t help but cry. He may not be my own son but I feel for his dad, my brother. I only know how it feels to worry about your own children, but to actually lose one, is unfathomable.
Yesterday, I received a message from my brother. A short but sad message. Ate.. wala na si Evo (Sister.. Evo’s gone). Naturally, I didn’t want to assume the worst so I asked why and if it was some sort of a joke. But it wasn’t. I told him I’ll go to where they were and volunteered that the husband and I would bring them to a hospital.
Earlier this evening, I asked my mom to come with me to the hospital. My brother and his girlfriend was still waiting inside the labor room. But as soon as he saw us, he cried. I could feel that he’s hurting but I couldn’t do anything. And it pains me that this has to happen.
My brother doesn’t talk that much and I’m scared that this would affect his wholebeing, just like when it did when our parents split up. He’s not as strong as I hoped he’d be.