Tuesday has never been my favorite day. When bad things happen in my life, they usually happen on a Tuesday. I’d rather not recount all of them.

In my experience, there are more people out on the streets on a Tuesday, much more than Monday.

There’s that scene of death early today. Have you stared death in its face?

The last time I encountered death in a personal level, it was when my paternal grandmother died in 2003. It was after the New Year festivities. As we were about to get some sleep, a cousin sent a text message, informing us about her death. To be honest, I felt nothing. I was ashamed of it, but on hindsight, I understand the feeling of nothingness.

My grandmother was in the hospital for four months till she passed away. Death stared me in the face in those months. It had prepared me to accept the inevitable – I knew she would die, the question was when. Everyday, you would ask the question, was today the day? Sadness enveloped the heart, yet she was still alive, leaving the heart calloused, till the fated day arrived. The heart was already numb by that time to even react.

The heart then went on a healing phase, regaining the feelings it had lost when sadness reigned supreme. It took me two years to realize the impact of her death. It was several days before All Saints Day of 2005. We were painting her tomb, when things came to a stand still. There I was, standing, looking at the grave. I was teary-eyed all of a sudden.

There are times when death’s impact is so sudden and jarring. The suddenness shocks the heart, triggering a wave of emotions, from denial, to anger, to despair, to depression. This is the kind of death that brings raw emotions, like how a tidal wave crashes to the shore.

I saw someone die. I can’t remember when it was exactly; I think I was in university at that time, so that would be around 1994-1997. We were living along Rizal Avenue Extension, on the southbound side, which is west. On the other side is the main gate of the Chinese Cemetery. Directly infront was an estero. An old man (around 50s) was sitting at a wide ledge before the estero, looking very sick. Suddenly, he vomited blood, lots of it. Then he collapsed. He was dead.

Then early today. I did not see the child die. I only saw signs of his death – the tattered clothes, blood marks in the pedestrian lane, the pool of crimson under the trailer. When that old man passed away, I felt nothing. People in the neighboorhood were even joking that we were lucky dinuguan (blood stew) was not the meal of the day. But today, upon seeing those tattered clothes, I felt my blood run cold. I almost had nausea. I felt despair.

Just how bad Tuesdays are? Right now, I am not feeling well. There was this sudden negative emotional outburst that was luckily contained within. I cannot explain at this moment why it happened. Maybe because it was Tuesday. Not my day, no sir.