Seven Sundays Left to Live

Manul sat on his porch, watching the busy street of their town in the Philippines. His heart felt heavy with the news that he had only seven Sundays left. " - What will I do with so little time?" he wondered aloud, glancing at the vibrant town buzzing with life. He wanted to leave a legacy of wisdom for his family. But how? The clock was ticking, and he had to act quickly.

Manul decided to call his family together, hoping to spend his remaining Sundays with them. " - We must cherish these moments," he told them, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. But his children, caught up in their own lives, seemed distant. " - Dad, I'm busy," his eldest son replied, looking at his phone. Manul felt a pang of frustration, wondering if they'd understand before it was too late.

Determined, Manul began writing letters filled with wisdom, hoping his words would reach them. He placed them in an old biscuit can, a relic of happier times. " - These words will guide them," he whispered, sealing each envelope with love. Meanwhile, his health began to falter, making each task more challenging. " - I have to finish these," he resolved, ignoring the fatigue that weighed him down.

As the first Sunday approached, Manul's energy dwindled, and he struggled to find the strength to gather his family. " - Why won't they come?" he wondered, feeling a sense of urgency. His children were scattered, too preoccupied with their own worries. " - Maybe they don't care," Manul thought, a wave of despair washing over him. He needed them to understand before it was too late.

Manul's health took a turn for the worse, making it harder for him to speak and move. " - I can't let this stop me," he told himself, determined to see his plan through. But his body protested, every step feeling like a mountain to climb. " - What if I don't make it to the last Sunday?" he worried, a sense of urgency gripping his heart. He needed a breakthrough, something to spark hope.

On the third Sunday, an unexpected visitor arrived—an old friend with a wise smile. " - Manul, you need to focus on what truly matters," the friend advised, their presence like a beacon of hope. Manul realized he had been too focused on the letters and not enough on spending time with his family. " - You're right," he agreed, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. With renewed determination, he set out to make the most of his Sundays.

With his friend's advice in mind, Manul gathered his family for a heartfelt conversation. " - I need you all to be here," he implored, his voice filled with love and urgency. His children listened, finally understanding the gravity of the situation. " - We'll be here, Dad," his daughter promised, tears in her eyes. Manul felt a sense of relief, knowing his family was united in this journey.

As the penultimate Sunday arrived, Manul's health improved slightly, giving him the strength to share his stories. " - Let me tell you about my life," he began, his voice carrying the weight of experience. His family listened intently, hanging on every word. " - You've taught us so much," his son remarked, a newfound respect in his eyes. Manul felt a deep sense of fulfillment, knowing his wisdom would live on.

On the final Sunday, Manul watched as his family gathered around him, their hearts full of gratitude and love. " - This is my legacy," he thought, seeing the joy and unity among them. " - Thank you for everything," his daughter said, holding his hand tightly. Manul smiled, knowing he had achieved what he set out to do. His life felt complete, filled with love and wisdom shared.

With a heart full of peace, Manul took his final breath, surrounded by the love of his family. " - We love you, Dad," his children whispered, their voices filled with emotion. They read his letters, each one a treasure of wisdom and love. " - He taught us how to live," his son said, his voice breaking with emotion. Manul's legacy of wisdom and love would live on, a guiding light for future generations.