THE BED BECAME TOO SMALL AROUND 2 A.M.
My name is Ana Reyes.
Our family lives in a quiet two-story house in a subdivision in Quezon City—a place that’s bright and vibrant during the day, but at night becomes super quiet, as if you could hear the ticking of the clock from the living room.
My wife and I have only one child—Mika, eight years old.
Since then, we have decided to have only one child.
It’s not that we’re selfish.
It is not because we are afraid of adversity.
But because we wanted to give him everything we could.
The house—which we bought after more than ten years of saving—was one of the biggest investments of our lives. We opened Mika’s educational fund when she was a baby. I even thought I was planning her college before she learned to read properly.
Above all, I want him to learn how to be independent.
A child who learns to sleep on his own
It’s not that I don’t love him.
On the contrary—I loved him enough to understand this: a child is not a man if he clings to his parents all the time.
Mika’s room was the neatest and nicest in the house.
— A wide bed with a quality mattress we bought at the mall
— Shelves full of storybooks, comics, and legends
— Stuffed toys carefully
arranged— A night light with a soft, yellow light
Every night, I read him a story, kissed him on the forehead, and then turned off the light.
Mika was never afraid to sleep alone.
Until… One morning.
“Mom, I felt like my bed was cramped last night…”
That morning, as I was getting ready for breakfast, Mika had just finished brushing. He came over, put his arms around my waist, and spoke softly and sleepily:
“Mom… I didn’t sleep well last night.
I smiled and turned to face him.
—Why, son?
He frowned, as if in thought, and then answered:
—Like… My bed was too tight.
Napatawa like.
—Your bed is the size of your bed, and you’re the only one sleeping in it. How did it become so tight? Maybe you just left your toys behind?
Umiling siya.
—Hindi po, Mama. Maayos yung kama ko.
I patted her on the head, thinking it was just a child’s complaint.
But I was wrong.
Words That Have Been Scared Over and Over
Two days later.
And then there were three.
Up to a whole week.
Every morning, Micah would say the same thing:
—Mom, I can’t sleep.
—My bed seems to have shrunk.
—Sounds like someone is pushing me over the edge.
One morning, he asked me a question that stopped my heartbeat:
“Mom… “Did you come into my room last night?”
I knelt down and looked him in the eye.
—No. Why did you ask?
Mika hesitated for a moment before answering:
—Case… I felt like I was sleeping next to someone.
I tried to laugh and keep my voice calm.
—You must have been dreaming. My mother stayed with me all night.
But since then…
I never slept peacefully again.
The Decision to Attach a Camera
At first, I thought Micah was just having a nightmare.
As a mother, I felt fear in her eyes.
I had a conversation with my husband—Ramon, a busy doctor at the public hospital who often came home in the middle of the night because of long duties.
After he listened, he smiled slightly.
—The child’s imagination is just creative. Our home is safe… Nothing bad will happen.
I’m out of contention.
Instead, I picked up a camera.
A small, barely visible CCTV in the corner of the ceiling of Mika’s room.
Not to keep an eye on him—but to put me at ease.
That night, Micah slept soundly.
The bed was fine.
There is no goal.
No one is taking up space.
I gasped for breath.
Until 2 a.m.
2 A.M. — The Moment I’ll Never Forget
I woke up thirsty.
Walking through the living room, I automatically turned on the camera’s live feed on the phone—just to make sure everything was fine.
At doon…
My whole body froze.
On the screen, the door to Mika’s room slowly opened.
May pumasok.
The body is stunning.
Her hair was white and gray.
The steps were slow and shaky.
I covered my mouth as my heart beat faster, when I finally understood:
It was Grandma Nena.
She was Ramon’s mother.
He went straight to Micah’s bed.
He carefully lifted the blanket.
And then…
He sat down next to his grandson.
It’s like… It was his own bed.
Mika moved slightly, pushed to the edge of the mattress. He fell asleep but did not wake up.
And I…
She cried silently.
A Mother Who Sacrificed Her Life for Her Son
Grandma Nina is seventy-eight years old.
She was widowed when Ramon was only seven years old.
She had not been married for more than forty years.
He worked all over the place:
— Housekeeper
— Laundry
— Sells porridge and food in the early hours of the morning
All of that—to raise his son and get an education to the point of becoming a doctor.
Ramon once recounted that when he was a child, there were days when his mother ate only bread, but she had a dish of fish or meat.
When Ramon went to college, Grandma Nena still sent envelopes—with only a little money, carefully folded.
For himself…
He lived a simple life and almost nothing for himself.
The Silent Disease of Old Age
Over the past few years, we have noticed that Grandma Nena is slowly changing.
— Once, he got lost and cried in a waiting shed until midnight.
— Once while eating, he suddenly looked up and asked:
—Who art thou?
— Once, he called me by the name of his father’s long-deceased wife.
We took him to the doctor.
Her voice was soft as she said:
—Early stages of Alzheimer’s.
But we didn’t expect him to walk home every night.
And we didn’t even think about it…
He lay in his grandson’s bed.
When the Elders Finally Wake Up
The next day, I showed the video to Ramon.
He didn’t speak for a long time.
And then…
He gave in.
—Maybe he remembers the days when I was a kid…
He grabbed my hand tightly.
—It’s my fault. I was too busy at work… I had forgotten that my mother was gone.
Over the next few days, Micah slept next to us.
At si Lola Nena…
We don’t blame him.
We loved him even more.
The Decision That Changed Everything
We have decided:
— Close Mika’s bedroom door carefully every night
— Put motion sensors throughout the house
— And most importantly: never let Grandma Nena sleep alone
We moved him to a room closer to us.
Every night I sat next to him.
I was talking to him.
Her memories were heard.
It helps him feel secure.
At some point, the elderly don’t need medication.
They just need to feel like they have a family to go home to.
WAKAS
My son’s bed is not very small.
The Truth Is…
An old woman—alone, lost in her own memory—