Is it Finally the Last Race? Not Quite?

Ever since the journey from November, it has been an uphill climb for Rene and myself. More for Rene because she has to take care of me and careful of her weakening cornea; while our daughter juggles between 2-3 (odd) jobs just to keep the bills paid.

I would have thought that a month of no sudden phone call from the hospital is good news, and maybe, just maybe, our burden on our children is lessen and we can finally return to our own home and relax with our familiar beds and surroundings.

When the doctor finally called me and my daughter and told us about it, the last I wished to hear was the C word.

Not because I want to deny it, but I know my family and relatives will be worried. People who know me and cared would have some restless nights because my mother died of womb cancer.

Yet when she died, she was barely touching 60; and now, I have outlived her over a decade.

I would have prayed and hope that it will show a photo that is so horrible, my daughter and wife would cry.

God, you are good.

You did not scare my wife and children and grandchildren.

You show me signs that I need to take care of my body and accept I am in my journey to see You; but you are keeping me alive a little longer.

I wish I do not need to burden my daughter, many times I hold back my words because I do not want to see tears coming out from her eyes, even though I say, "it's ok. It's normal to be worried."

Nevertheless, I have to wait, another week, some buying time to maybe see my daughter perform the first time, to look at my wife every morning and wonder will she be okay walking alone with Jesus.

Thank you God, You let me live a little longer

Even though I miss my home, my rambutan tree, my fully detached village house; my village.

I only hope now that all process will be swift. I have less fear now, but my fear is not my final journey, but those who are left behind.

Philip