Maya,
As usual, today should be like any other day—supposed to be.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a quiet morning coffee. Our child was still fast asleep in her crib, unlike the other days when she usually wakes before I do. I’m thankful that the neighborhood mothers shouting their children’s names to wake them up for school didn’t disturb her sleep. As always, she’s getting bigger and heavier by the day. I only hope she doesn’t grow up too fast.
Today, I managed to review for our weekly quiz. Remember what I told you in my previous letters? My father officially transferred me to our community college so that they could help me take care of our daughter.
Seeing those kids walk to school—carefree and without a single thought about the future—feels so distant to me now. These days, it feels like my life is no longer just my own. The reasons I go to school now are completely different from when I first stepped into a university. The weight of responsibility grows heavier with each passing day.
In moments of solitude, I often wonder—what if I were the same age as those kids? I might have done things differently.
I would’ve woken up before the roosters crowed, reheated last night’s meal for breakfast, and had enough time to review my notes. I might’ve already done my morning chores—fed the chickens and pigs—even before my father woke up.
I would’ve arrived at school early, waited for the library to open, and double-checked my answers to the assignments. The librarian would’ve already logged my borrowed books. In class, I would’ve listened intently as the teachers went over the day’s lessons in English, Math, Araling Panlipunan, and Science. I probably would’ve made it through P.E. too, even though I dreaded sweating through my only white uniform for my Monday-Tuesday classes.
Right after school, I would’ve gone straight home and prepared the food my father brought for supper. The evening would’ve ended as uneventfully as any other.
But things are different now. The choices I made—we made—have changed me entirely. They shaped my humanity. I need to settle with the truth that those choices brought me a kind of happiness, along with a level of responsibility few may ever truly understand. I have to live with those choices now and accept that my what-ifs no longer matter compared to the life I live today.
You don’t have to worry about me or our daughter. I’ll try my best to raise her well, and every day, I’ll tell her about you— the one who gave her everything, even life.
I love you. Always.
letters and words 