Pogi

by Kenn Miranda

July 14, 1993. A baby boy was born at a city hospital. The boy was the first child of newlywed couple. The father was very excited; he already finished the room for the baby - complete with wall papers, carpets, pillows, and a big crib for their healthy baby. The mother was very happy; even though it is her first child and know little in parenting.

“Ang pogi naman ng anak natin..” the mom sighed.

“Siyempre naman! Mana kaya sa akin yan!!” the father exclaimed with full pride.

The family went through life as other families do - problems and little misunderstandings every now and then. It cannot be helped. Still, almost every day was filled with smiles. A happy baby boy was growing up. Birthdays were always celebrated. Every year it was a new toy for the child… and a big colorful cake and a number-candle for the celebrant. It was all the parents could do for their kind child. And that went without contestation.

December 23, 1999. The baby boy was now six years old. Next year shall be the time when he enters the first grade. In two days shall be his seventh Christmas. What new toy would he receive? He hoped that it was the huge Gundam robot they saw a couple of days ago.

Later that day, the family went to the hospital. The boy had not been fine for some time now, and the parents wanted to know why. The boy was diagnosed with a Stage-3 cancer, and required immediate treatment…

“Doc, kahit anong kailangan gawin, kahit magkano gawin niyo…” the father cried to the doctor.

“Oo naman tay, gagawin nating lahat para sa pogi ninyong anak.” the doctor somewhat said in a reassuring tone.

The child could not know the whole situation and can only feel the warmth of his mother’s arms and tears as she hugged him at the clinic of the doctor.

April 6, 2000. It was the third cycle for the boy’s chemotherapy. The boy was confined on the same room he had since the first cycle. The boy had been admitted since February, since the doctor said that it was best for the child. The boy already lost his hair due to the treatment. He had no appetite. He was rather thin. And he had trouble going to the bathroom. He was fed through a tube placed inside his mouth. He had dextrose, and a bunch of apparatuses to help the boy.

“Ma?? Kailangan ba talaga etong mga ito? Ang ingay nung tunog eh…” the boy inquired.

“Oo anak eh, tiisin mo lang ng onti para gumaling ka na agad… tas uuwi na tayo at gagala… bibili tayo ng bagong laruan,,,” The mom answered so caringly and sensitively to their child.

“Ang daya… pero ayos lang, pogi pa din naman aq, di ba mami?” the child asked with a smile.

The parents could not know how to respond. The mom cried. The father approached the boy and said:

“Siyempre naman! Anak ata kita!” - with a tone of faked high-spirit as if the boy was not sick at all.

June 25, 2000. The boy died at the age of six. It was difficult for the parents for they did not simple lose a wonderful child. But it was lost that they tried so desperately to avoid…

On the day of the burial, everyone they knew attended. Everyone wanted to give support to the parents. But the parents preferred that they attend with the intention of celebrating the life of their baby boy. The parents did not need sympathy, for as long as they were concerned, their baby boy no longer experienced pain, and sleep well without the loud noises of the machines…

Their baby boy was buried with a tombstone specially requested by the parents… it read:

July 14, 1993 - June 25, 2000

Ang pinaka-pogi sa lahat!