No wound is ever more painful than losing a child. And as they say, no mother should bury their own child. Unfortunately for me, that is the reality. On January 28, my son passed away unexpectedly. He was 11. I never thought that he would be taken away from us too early. He was a healthy child, full of life and potential. It all started with mumps. He recovered from that, but a few days after, he developed an on and off fever. His mama brought him to different specialists and they all thought that it was an infection, but couldn't point out where the infection was. Then he had test for Dengue, but the results all came back negative. Apart from his fever, his only other complaint was a headache, which to him was bearable. According to my mother and his mama, he didn't show them that he was in any pain. He would even say, "wala po ito, headache lang" (this is nothing, just a headache). On Wednesday the 25t of January, my sister-in-law asked if I could call. I was at work, but somehow I felt that I needed to call. So she told me that my son's fever was persistent despite round the clock Paracetamol and the 3 days worth of antibiotics (and 7 different physicians). I instructed them to take him to the hospital against his will. Once admitted, he had convulsions. He again was tested for Dengue three times- the first two were negative, the third one was "slightly" positive. Dengue never came to my mind. I was more worried that he might have had meningitis. But apart from headache and fever, he had no other classic signs of meningitis. He apparently had a chest xray and the doctors thought he had pneumonia. Then his platelets started to drop. Haemoptysis followed, then he started passing blood in his stool. Despite platelets and blood transfusions, the doctors were not able to save my baby. The cause of his death was Dengue Haemorrhagic Fever.
Honestly, I really don't want to know what exactly happened. It hurts so much as it is. But according to his mama, he never showed any signs of suffering. His Tito JL and Tito Junjun, who were with him until the end, even said that up to his last breath, he was smiling.
One week on, the wound is still very fresh. Although I know that God has a purpose, I still can't help but ask, "why Keith?". He was such a wonderful boy. He was extraordinary. Perhaps he really was not meant for us. I remember my Inang telling me that when Keith was still a baby, an old woman told her that looking at Keith's eyes, he really wouldn't last long. Because "malamlam" daw ang mga mata niya (he has ?gloomy eyes). Others said that he really looked like an angel, that's why he didn't belong to us, but to the Lord. Whatever the reason is, I hope we'll find out soon.
Keith Ashley left us with good memories that we will treasure forever.
Keith Ashley was a very shy boy. He wouldn't speak, unless you speak to him. He was an inspiration to a lot of young kids- because of how "bait" he was and how talented he was. He was indeed an "Angel" in so many ways.
Keith was a child any parent would wish to have. Napakabait. He always spoke with respect. He was never a headache to anyone. Even strangers would say he was a good boy. I will never ran out of good things to say about Keith. Let me leave the rest to other people who know him too.
Keith Ashley played the violin
He also had a passion for Art. He started painting when he was 9. But he showed talent in drawing at an early age of 2 when he started school. Trains were his favourite to draw. His inspiration was Claude Monet. Click here to see more of Keith Ashley's paintings.
Despite of his busy schedule, Keith Ashley never failed to read the Bible every night. He also often read the Dictionary and the Science Encyclopedia.
He was a member of his school's Drum and Lyre Corps
He was an officer at his school's Student Council. He was also a Knight of the Altar and a Choir Member.
He represented his school and his hometown at last year's Mathematics Trainers' Guild in Naga City.
No words can really express how devastated I am right now. I know things will get better, but the fact that I will no longer be able to kiss and hug my baby hurts so much.
At only 11, Keith has lived his life to the fullest. He was loved not only by his family and friends, but by a lot of other people.
As his mommy, I never failed to make him feel that he was loved and cared for. I always told him I loved him.
What happened to Keith only proves that life is indeed so short. We should not forget to remind our family and friends, especially our parents and our children that we love them. No matter how hard life is sometimes, if we love each other, life seems easier.
To our dear Keith, we will love you forever and you will always be remembered. One day I will do something for you so people won't forget you. I love you very much anak ko!