Chapter 5 HAPPY BIRTHDAY

My eyes popped open, and my jaw dropped to the flawless white floor. My birthday? I mumbled under my breath, still dazed. My head shifted to my left to check the calendar hanging on the wall. When I saw the date, a soft gasp escaped my lips, and I made a facepalm in my mind.

Why did I forget the most special day of my life? I thought to myself, my eyes popping wider.

It took me seconds to compose myself. I closed my wide open mouth before a fly could enter inside before dropping to my knees in front of Mom.

“Happy birthday, Lily.” Mom whispered weakly. She lifted an arm and caressed my cheek with her frail hands. She was silent for a moment as her gaze surveyed my face. “I’m sorry I have no present to give you,” she whispered regretfully. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces after hearing her say that.

“You don’t need to give me one, Mom.” I told her. The regret in her eyes transformed into warmth at my words. The heaviness in my chest faded instantly. “I considered having you here by my side today as the greatest gift I ever received in my life.” I told her.

Tears clouded her eyes, and for a moment, I thought she would cry, but before it happened, she blinked back the tears and captured my hands. A soft smile then emerged from her thin, pale lips. “I’m lucky to have a daughter like you.” She mumbled. It made my heart swell with joy.

Shaking my head, I held her hand a little tighter. “I’m luckier to have you as my mother.”

“Lily, will you promise me you will always be happy even after I'm gone?” Mom asked, startling me. A sudden chill ran down my spine while her words painfully reverberated in my ears.

The smile on my lips disappeared. Why is she raising that question now?

My lips parted open, but before the objections could escape from my lips, I stopped. It was the grave expression on her face that stopped me.

“Will you promise me?” She whispered, her voice barely audible.

For the umpteenth time, I swallowed hard. My gaze dropped to the floor. Can I do it? I asked myself. “You will not leave me, right, Mom?” The question burst out of my lips when I shifted my eyes to hers. An imaginary heart squeezed my heart. I pursed my lips and swallowed the lump in my throat as I smoothened the remaining strands of hairs she had after countless sessions of chemotherapy. But try as I might, I could not contain my emotions anymore. Within seconds, tears raced down my cheeks.

Mom looked so pitiful. Her wrinkled skin clung to her bones, and there were shadows underneath her eyes. She could not even walk on her own. I don’t think she will stand another session of chemotherapy with her present condition. But even with her health like this, Mom always has a ready smile on her lips and an enviable positive outlook on life. How I wished I were born strong like her.

“I had accepted my fate a long time ago, but before I die, I want you to promise me you will be happy.” Mom looked at me. Her eyes won’t leave mine unless she gets what she wants.

A moment of silence passed between us.

“Lily?”

I pushed the scintillating doubt away and gave up the urge to resist. In a barely audible voice, I replied. “I promised Mom.”

A smile lit her face in an instance. Contentment brightened her countenance. “Thank you, Lily. I have strong faith in you. I know you will fulfill your promise.” She added, pulling me into a tight hug.

“You don’t need to thank me, Mom.” I kissed her on the temples before rising to my feet and drying the tears on my cheek.

Celine cleared her throat to catch my attention. “Happy birthday, Lily.” She greeted me again. The smile on her face broke the tension in the atmosphere, and I finally relaxed. “I brought your favorite black forest cake.” She grinned, showing me the cake she was holding in her hand. “Please make a wish now.”

I closed my eyes and did what Celine told me to do before blowing up the candle. I’m getting older, I thought to myself as the flame from the candle snuffed out.

“I prepared food downstairs. We must eat before it turns cold.”

“You go first, Celine. I’ll carry Mom downstairs.” I told her.

Celine went ahead.

I turned to Mom. With ease, I lifted her into my arms and carefully descended on the stairs. She was so light, almost like a child, that I had no difficulty carrying her in my arms until we reached the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Mom mumbled when I finally lowered her to a chair.