🕯️ JOURNAL ENTRY
“When the Laughter Fades: A Woman’s Truth in the End”
Chee Chee’s Corner | Journaling from the Heart
August 6, 2025 | 7:30 PM

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She owned her life. She was happy. She travelled the world and dreamed of a home and a family.

She married a man. She wasn’t his first, but she was deeply in love. And they were in love. Even when his children were against her. Even when they weren’t happy that their father remarried.

While her husband was away working, she took care of the home. She made sure they had a place to stay in the future. She even charged her relatives for staying there. “Nothing is free,” she would say.

She had a loving husband, and they were financially stable. But aging and illness come to us all. Her husband passed away first. And then came the terrifying truth. How was she going to live now that he was gone? Would her stepchildren send her away? Away from the very home where she started her brand-new life?

Thankfully, the answer was no. One of the sons still had compassion. He did not drive her out. She remained in her home, this time with a caretaker.

But life was no longer the same.

She used to manage all the finances. She once carried a pouch full of money whenever she wanted to buy something. Now she didn’t.

The house that once echoed with laughter was silent. The rooms that overflowed with food, fruits, chocolates, and pantry goods were now empty.

She had to survive on 500 pesos a day for food. Sometimes only 1000 pesos a week. For her regular medical checkups, she had to rely on her SSS pension. But where was the rest of her money? What happened to her savings? The rental income from the apartment? The pension from her late husband?

Why was she struggling?

From the outside, people thought she lived a good life. A big house. A well-kept home. But her life now felt more like a prison.

And where were the people she once helped? The nieces, the nephews? No one came to visit. No one even asked how she was. She passed away alone, longing for love and attention. And that is one of the saddest truths of life.

When you have money, people flock to you. You become generous, helpful, needed. But when you’re old and helpless, no one is there. The people she once favored, the ones she gave so much to—they disappeared.

Who remained?

The very relative she had always mistreated. The one she reminded over and over, “You’re not really my niece. Your father is just my cousin.” She made sure to draw that line. She never truly welcomed her in.

But you can’t force someone to love the people who actually cared. Because the ones she longed for, the ones she chose, were never really there.

Now she is gone.

When she died, she still had millions in her name. But just enough to pay her hospital bills and cover her funeral, adorned with grand flowers. No family crowds. No joyful goodbyes. Just silence, and the echo of a life once full.

I can only hope she realized, in her final breath, how blessed she was to have someone by her side. The same woman she treated as a helper for years. The one who scrubbed her floors and woke up at dawn to iron bed sheets. The one she sent to college but never truly freed. She didn’t get to study like others. She served instead.

And yet, this same woman was the only one who never left her. She stayed. She held her hand until the end.

I just wish and pray that she has now found the peace and happiness that escaped her in this life. May her soul rest in peace.

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Reflection:

Some lives are lived loudly, and yet they end in silence. This story is not just about one woman, but a mirror of what often happens when pride takes the place of love, and wealth is mistaken for security.

We work hard to build homes, save money, and earn respect. But when time takes everything away, all that remains is the kindness of those who stay. And sometimes, it’s not the people we favored who stay—it’s the ones we overlooked, the ones we thought were beneath us.

In the end, peace is more precious than possessions. A quiet life with love is far richer than a grand house filled with resentment.

Let this be a reminder to all of us. Choose kindness while there’s still time. Treat people with warmth, not hierarchy. Because when everything else fades, it’s not the mansion or the money that will matter. It’s who will sit with you when you can no longer stand. It’s who will hold your hand when no one else remembers your name.