just look up

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

just look up

it’s amazing how this blog entry has transformed. from the original gloomy almost jaded tone it took as one of the many drafts i had, it metamorphed in to one that bordered on despair, and now as if by the whim of one single note of an eternal and perfect hymn, it altered yet again to hope, contentment, tranquility… bliss.

from my lola’s celebration for turning a century old. from the smiles and laughter and talks of days gone by… to the death of cyril’s dad. there were smiles too, yet now of comfort rather than glee to eyes met. it did not matter to whom they belonged; from one of Cy’s siblings, from that of Mai’s, from a stranger, from the completely unknown. all one in grief, each generously giving comfort where sympathy was needed, each drawing strength from the other- not to numb the pain, or to deny what has come to pass- but to realize a great loss and to realize even more that life remains unmoved and impatient. that to the rest of the world, life trodded on while in that small chapel where a beloved man was interred, the suddenness and completeness of death was with us all – so thick that it had the semblance of presence.

orations and great speeches were given, in celebration of dad. though witty and appropriate, none was more exact in articulation than dad himself when he said that

death is certain the moment you were born.
so delay it as much as you can and make the delay a happy one.


well said. nothing less from you. of course, there was another incident during the course of his wake that pricked me to feeling. and significant as it is, i do not care to elaborate on it in this post. simply because its appropriateness does not lie in the words that define this post. this if for cy’s dad. who became my 2nd dad the moment he started calling me anak. the moment he let me stay in his house because it was too late to go home. the moment he gave up his room and slept on the couch just so that i’ll be comfortable. the moment he cooked for me his unusual concoctions that despite their lack of proper recipes were always at par with dishes made by the cooks we had at home. the moment he drove me to where i needed to be. the moment he always made sure that i’d be with them on any family occasion. the moment he started joking around me (which was, according to Cy, something he’d never do around a stranger). the moment he touched my life and allowed me to become a part of his.

the end of life is life.

whispered by rese at 21:45

One Comment

  1. faye says:

    thank you for this, therese…