When a person becomes a memory … the only thing left to do is reminisce.
The message came at 5:23 am. “Papa’s gone”, was the simple message that read on the screen.
I tried to shake off the sleep from my eyes. I tried to make sense of the message that I was reading.
A distinctive ring came while the phone was still in my hand. It made me more confused as I fumbled with the screen until I finally realized that somebody was calling me.
“Hello … hello?”
People talking and crying on the other end of the phone … a sad, wailing cry.
“Papa is dead … he is gone.” The news finally hit me like a battering ram! I felt a rush of cold from behind the ear and rapidly spread to the rest of my body. I felt my toes go numb and I felt weak in the knees.
Why am I feeling this? I knew this was coming! I was actually waiting for it to arrive! But still, I had the eeriest feeling that I have ever felt. I was waiting for it but I did not want it to come. Such contradiction!
“Was he in pain?”
“No, he was asleep after viewing the video you sent. He shuddered in his sleep, like a spasm, and the monitors showed a flat line. It was over in seconds.”
He listened to a video that I made for him before he died. I have been sending him videos because he lost his voice and cannot hold a conversation anymore.
The videos were of mundane topics. He watched and listened to the videos. Sometimes, talking back as if he was having a live conversation.
The final video was all about how I felt about his illness and his well being. I tried to say the most encouraging words to keep his spirit up. He knew that the end was coming. He has said his goodbye to me even though he lost his voice.
Smiling, he was always smiling. Even if he was in pain, even if he was too exhausted to stand, even if he knew that the end was coming.
People remember him as a happy fellow. Always generous and willing to help. Opportunist saw him as a person to be abused. He didn’t mind though he knew it.
Peaceful, that was how he looked, as he lay in his casket. Bon voyage, Pa. We will see you soon when our time comes to follow you. Your memory will forever be imprinted in our minds.
[…] A year ago, a journeyman ended his journey here and moved on. He lived his life of journey and experience. Legacy was created. The years of his journey touched other people’s lives and his legacy was shared. We cherish his memory. […]
[…] Empty spaces are like photographs. They are reminders of memories that were shared at one point in time. Photographs and empty spaces keeps a memory alive when a person becomes a memory. […]
I got that message at 2 in the morning. No one prepared me for it. I was on my seventh article. Web content needed to be produced, magical spinners on the web at work, I was directing my team of writers from all over the world. I, who spun tales on the internet, wrote articles with ease, powered blogs and drew traffic to a website, I was ultimately at a loss for words. What do you do when someone becomes a photograph? You sit in silence and soak in the thought that the hand that once blotted out your sun is gone. A picture and nothing more. You sit in silence and think about how one life moves you and shapes you. As silent as a dewdrop that kisses the blade as it greets the sun, as quickly as it dries. A photograph and nothing more. You take it all in silence and the course of a few minutes, you remember everything. The days long past gone, the days of a thousand sunsets. It all now rests in a picture. Goodbye and goodbye dad. You will always be in between sunrise and the days of a thousand sunsets. In a Hershey’s kiss and a ball of cheese. Goodbye, and I will miss you.
A very nice commentary and tribute to your Lolo, Michelle. Thank you! It will be difficult to ease the pain of his loss. It has been days and yet I still feel that it was only yesterday. Time will heal.
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Condolence to you Doc George and family. What a nice tribute and farewell to your father who I know is very proud of you.
Thank you JJ. He best that I can do to honor his memory.