A Farewell

I find it hard to write about things that move me deeply. It's easier to write about random, day-to-day  stuff. Or rant. Ranting is easy. But when it comes to the things which touch me bone-deep, I am rendered speechless.

Words fail me. I cannot write. Because writing means feeling and I do not want to feel.

But then Tito deserves more than my silence. He deserves to be remembered. Even if it's just in my little corner.

. . .

When I think of him, I see him in my mind's eye, in front of the computer doing business transactions. He always had a ready smile for me. I am always greeted by a cheery "Hello, doc!" and when I leave, he'd say, "Goodbye, Mel doc! Come back, come back!"

"Of course," I'd always reply.

He had so much to give to the world. He was so full of grand ideas. "The Philippines will be great again!" he'd tell me, his eyes alight with fire and enthusiasm.

He was an incredibly brilliant man. He had his flaws, to be sure. Are we not all flawed? For one, I knew he had a temper. I suppose brilliant minds are less tolerant to others' flaws. He'd often rant about this or that person's idiocy. And then he'd show me his email correspondence and read out aloud how he responded.

There were so many good things about him. He could have been more than great. But then it always seemed that circumstances were against him. He was given a difficult life. Yet he always shouldered on, undaunted, ready for another fight.

He treated me like his own. And for that, I am forever grateful.

There are so many things I regret. I regret that I had not talked with him more. Or listened to his stories more. And when the sickness came, I regret that I was helpless. At the back of mind are a list of "If only" and "What ifs". But then it was too late and I could only stand back and be there for the people he loves.

. . .

Every time I'm at Bo's, it always feels like that he's still there. That perhaps he's just in the garden having a breath of fresh air, or maybe going about his various business.

But then again, he'll always be there. He may be out of sight, but I know that he is looking out for Tita, Jam, An and his Miguel. And as an extension of the family, me as well.

Tito, you'll be in our prayers.