Life, Personal, writing

Unconditional Love

“Hello,” greeted an unseen voice from over the phone. For a moment, my heart stopped beating as the familiar sound brought back me back to memory lane.

But the magic needed to end as I snap back to reality – the reality that the one person I was currently speaking to was a contractor, asking me details of what I sent them through email a few hours back.

My trip to memory lane was cut short as I snapped back to reality, regaining my exterior composure – calm and calculating against the frantic beating of my heart.

“Ma’am,” he greeted back, “I have my personnel on site who may double check the said concern at the unit,” to which I answered in the negative. Saying that the unit owner was unavailable at the moment.

A few more seconds over the phone and the conversation ended – leaving me still rattled and disoriented from the experience. Because for a moment back there, I thought I was actually hearing the voice of my deceased father for one last time.

That maybe, this was part of my unanswered prayer the following days and weeks of father’s death. That for one last time, we could hear him, hold him, and see him at the very least to finally bid that one bittersweet goodbye.

That maybe he was actually really on the other side of the phone and was going to ask how we were finally doing.

And it was in that few moments after the phone call that I realize how much it means to miss a man as great as he. That here we were, left with memories, with stories, pictures, a few videos, his diary from way back Saudi Arabia days, and a voice recording for one of his seminars or lectures – the one and only thing that would most probably come close to hearing his voice again.

You see, even in the midst of growing up, of having far too many responsibilities and obligations, not once will you truly forget nor stop yearning for the ones you hold dear – no matter the distance, no matter the circumstance.

Your love for them – it never really fades. It just goes stronger. Each and every single day.

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Life, Personal, writing

A Fighter Worth Everything

A loving wife, a mother of four, and a sister to six others.

She is a strong willed woman, stubborn against all oddities of cancer. She fought relentlessly and held on to her Faith – unfazed by all circumstances cancer threw her way.

She remained strong, smiled through tough times, cried, and a few times (or more) got angry and frustrated with all the pain she feels. Nevertheless, she proved that it takes more than her illness to bring her down, to lose her faith, and bring destruction upon her family.

She might not be here physically but her memories, her legacy, her stories will always stay and be remembered by people who surround her.

A tough woman in her early sixties – feisty and loud, sometimes even a nagger – not only to her husband or children, but to all of us – pamangkin, kapatid, kaibigan. Selfless, dedicated, sincere, and caring, a stage mother supportive of her children’s dream.

She fought a long time and now she’s finally in a better place. In her own paradise where no illness, hardship, or pain will come her way. A place where she can – we can finally, truly say she is Home.

You see even in this situation, she never succumbed to the harshness of her illness. Rather, she gained the Mercy of the One above and His Kingdom.

Her chapter on Earth may have ended; nevertheless, her journey was not in vain as she had laughed lots of times, loved a long time, and lived life to the fullest.

And just like how I heard one person say, I quote, “my grandfather did not die. He did not die because he is such a good man and a good man does not die. He just stopped breathing.”

Thus, in the same light, our Tita did not die. She did not die because she is a good person and a good person does not die. She just stopped breathing.

Tita Edith, tulad nga ng sinabi ng marami, Maraming maraming salamat – sa lahat ng tulong, sa lahat ng alaala at suporta, at higit sa lahat, salamat sa pagkakataon na ibinigay mo sa aming lahat na makilala ka’t maging parte ng buhay mo at mapagsilbihan ka kahit sa huling pagkakataon.

Watch over everyone Tita. We love you.

Hanggang sa muli nating pagkikita.

 

 

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Life, Personal, writing

Memories of July

For most of us, July’s just part of the 12 months in a year. The 7th one to be exact.

Others would call for a celebration – baptism, birthday, wedding/ wedding anniversary. Basically anything.

But still it’s July, the same 7th month of each year.

For us, it’s a different kind of anniversary. Because it’s an anniversary that marks the final chapter of one person’s life. Continue reading

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