My uncle was killed, we only have speculations for the motives… business, politics. Nothing really worth of anyone's life.
I am writing to celebrate his life, because
it's the best we can do while we grieve. I am also writing for Ace (my 2 y/o cousin), Justine, Macmac, Nanay and Tatay, my mom, my aunts and uncle and
everybody who is grieving.
While everybody was sharing their ordinary yet
precious moment with Tito Bicol, I am transported back to 2004. I was mocking
him for being in the political sphere, I’ve always thought it to be grubby. During that time he was
running back in fort, coordinating for relief operations and resuscitating our town that was dysfunctional for about one month because of
a flash flood and landslide. His family along with other family members stayed in our house for over a month because
majority of my town was submerged in mud. I had a glimpse of his day to day life.
One day I asked him why he even bother doing what he did, he
said because he’s helping thousands of people… 15 year old me, not found of
exaggeration, ridiculed him by clarifying… LIBO (THOUSANDS)? Everybody laughed
and it was a running joke in the family for years.
Our brain has a funny way of remembering, that moment
probably defined me without me even spotting it... until now. I wish I caught it
earlier, so that he heard it. His example must have a lot to do with the urge I cannot ignore to be useful in the world.
I’m pretty sure I’m not special,
I’ve read goodbye notes and the theme are the same, he is a good person. In
that light, his life was not in vain.
I’ve always thought that the luck I
got from the heavens is the blessing of being surrounded by good people, Tito
Bicol was someone I've had even before I was born.
Thank you and I’ll miss you.
Comments
Post a Comment