I watched them with a heavy heart as they left until they slowly disappeared.
While I would be taking a convenient ride home, he would be trudging on foot along the highway, crossing several busy streets and down the rough
and muddy road towards home.
It would not be an enjoyable strides and a light walk but a difficult and heavy one.
He would be pushing papa in his wheelchair along the three- kilometer- length of the J Center Mall, where he just had his daily electrostatic energy therapy, towards our home in Ibabao.
I felt a pang of pain and guilt deep inside where my anger towards him was kept for many years.
An anger that was drawn out of my love for him as my only, precious brother.
I was angry because, for almost five years now, he never untangled himself from the intricates of a certain wrong thing.
I was angry because he was too weak and slow to resist it and I felt that he became used to that mistake and probably not doing anything at all to solve it.
He must have waited for time's own way of bringing things into better perspectives.
Time's perfect ways of healing and forgeting. Time's own ways of coming out into much better solutions.
I was just too afraid that Death might take him through a painful way and I wouldn't be able to accept it.
Just the mere thought of this made me emotionally sick for years. I wanted him to get out of this all at once!
Trying to hold back my tears and my urge to cry hard, I watched him and his slim figure as he pushed papa on his wheelchair.
In every turn of that wheels, i also find myself ever more guilty than him.
I had been angry about his weakness yet blinded about my own's failure to understand and forgive as a big sister.
I refused to consider that, perhaps, he may have so much difficulty in fighting alone to overcome.
I refused to open up my mind that he, too, must be so confused and needed acceptance.
I was so legalistic and blinded to see that he, too, is a human with frailties and shortcomings as much as I do!
While he pushed papa in his wheelchair back and forth everyday with the hope that he can walk again, I was brooding up with my resentment.
I never knew of his difficulties and fatigue as he bathed him everyday, did him passive exercises, put him on his potty, took him to bed and everything that I, myself, should be doing as the nurse of the family.
Instead, I blamed him for bringing curse into the family for his stubbornness
I blamed him for the financial difficulties I was suffering for many years.
I was just too blind and deaf to see that he was not an evil after all.
That he had the character every parents would dream in a child.
A child that would take care of them when they get old and sick.
I was not able to sleep well that night.
I was so overwhelmed with the fact that it is not him that has been wrong all the time, but me and my wicked heart.