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Perlita Bayalan

Joined on: Apr 02, 2011

Memorials placed

Pablo Bayalan - Apr 02, 2011


Pablo Bayalan - Apr 02, 2011

Journal

In search of symbolism - Apr 03, 2011
Written By: Perlita Bayalan

They say that everything that happens symbolizes something. At this time, I am grappling with the mystery behind the serious illness that fate had inflicted upon my normally very healthy body while my brother was dying halfway around the world. They call it the 'superbug' (CRKP in medical term), a drug-resistant bacterium that infected my throat so severely that I couldn't swallow and had difficulty breathing. I was injected with the usual penicillin G, but it didn't seem to work; my infection was slowly getting worse. On the third morning of my throat infection, Beverly texted me informing me that Junior had died. I felt numb. The whole day, Ate Norma and I planned a trip for everyone to go back home. She did all the calling because I could hardly talk. Meanwhile, my neck had gotten so swollen and I found it hard to swallow and breathe. I called the doctor and explained my condition. She immediately instructed me to go to the nearest hospital. A.J. took me to Sharp Hospital and he stayed with me for five hours at the ER. After all the blood tests, chest x-rays, CT scan, etc, the ER doctor told me I'm being admitted, maybe for two days. Those two days turned into eight days. They kept changing the antibiotics, and because I couldn't swallow, I didn't eat for several days; I was fed electrolytes intravenously. Finally, on the fourth day, I began to eat soft foods like jello and apple sause. I never thought they could taste so heavenly. Violet couldn't make the trip back home with Ate Norma, Sannee and Beth because of an expired passport that she could not renew because her original naturalization certificate was nowhere to be found. In this case, the symbolism seems a little more clear. . .I needed someone in the family to help me in various ways. I was glad she was around (especially to bring me the cosmetics I direly needed so I could look less sick. :-D ) Alex also could not go because of the danger associated with losing his job.

Perhaps being very sick weakened me so much that I couldn't even find the strength to weep every time I thought of my brother's passing; either that or I was still in shock, or denial that he's really gone.

I am home now. Yesterday morning, I logged on for the first time on the Internet. I saw the YouTube video tribute to Junior on Facebook and I hesitantly clicked the 'Play' button whereupon the song "Dance With My Father Again" came on and I was greeted with pictures of Jun playing with his children. And then it happened for the first time. . .I lost it and I started convulsing with tears. I turned it off immediately. Seeing him happy and having a great time with his family was too much to bear knowing it's now just a part of the memories he left behind; we won't see him ever again.

Perhaps someday I will find the symbolism to being sick that prevented me from making the trip back to the Philippines to be with my brother for the last time.

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The Painting Brushes - Apr 03, 2011
Written By: Perlita Bayalan

During the last phone conversation I had with my brother Junior he asked me to send him some Grumbacher paintbrushes for his portrait paintings. They were his favorite brand and swore they were the best. Immediately I ordered them online from Dick Blick Art Store. My niece Criselda brought them back to the Philippines when she left San Diego on the 28th of February. I had been so pleased that he was painting again, and he'd been so prolific as evidenced by the number of new paintings hanging on the wall. I cherish the picture of him posted on Facebook holding paintbrushes and a palette in front of his huge easel. I don't know if Jun had the chance to use them. I hope he did.

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The Guilt - Apr 03, 2011
Written By: Perlita Bayalan

As Catholics, we are easily stricken by guilt when someone passes on. I still carry the guilt I felt after my sister Linda died. After she was operated for stomach cancer, the doctors told us that she'd be lucky if she lived beyond six months. Right there and then, I should have taken a leave from my corporate job, maybe for a month or two, so I could spend more time with her. But I did not. My job was taking me to many places that I could not find the time to leave. She died six months after her surgery.

This time, I said to myself, I am not going to make the same mistake. I will spend months with my brother Jun and have a good time with him and paint together and walk down memory lanes. I knew he was very sick, but I had no idea he was going to die so soon. Once again, I failed in my resolve to be with a very ill sibling before he passed on. And once again, I grapple with this self-imposed guilt that I know will haunt me for the rest of my life.

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