Goodbye, Annica

It's been a rough day today. We had a death in the family. I received the bad news this afternoon that my “cousin” had to give birth prematurely last night and consequently lost the baby. A girl, who I was going to name Anne Catherine, or Annica for short.

When my then-pregnant Manang and her family moved back from Saudi Arabia to my hometown about two months ago, I insisted on naming the baby. She has two sons already, whose names all start with “A”. So I was thinking of naming the baby Anderson if it was a boy (after my favorite CNN reporter Anderson Cooper) and Anne Catherine if it was a girl (after the Great Russian Empress Catherine II and Anne of Green Gables).

I was excited about this baby so the pain I felt over her passing is more intense, like a thousand paper cuts to the heart. It’s strange how I can feel this much for someone I haven’t seen nor touched yet. And she isn't even mine.

Maybe it’s because I’ve already named her that’s why I feel a loss this deep. Because if she was just an “it” or “a baby” to me – a nameless, unseen and untouched bundle of flesh— then her passing might have been greeted with just a tinge of sadness. Like how one would feel losing a book or a key.

But Annica proved to be a very special baby, made more precious because she was a fleeting dream, a gust of precious air that was gone before I knew it. I can only imagine the pain that Manang Bing and Kuya Totoy must be going through right now. It's probably like having a part of you brutally cut off, leaving behind this yawning, throbbing hole. I don't have the slightest idea, but it must surely feel that way in view of how I crappy I feel right now.

I just console myself with the thought that Annica was born an angel, not meant for life on earth, but meant only to be with God.