09-01-2013

DEATH is a surprise. Yes, it is. One may be able to know that someone is dying, but still it's a surprise. Suppose you have someone close to you near death, there's a conslusion in you that this person is dying. Yet you will never ever think that this person will die. After all, it will spring as a surprise. 

That's how I imagined my mother felt when my brother passed away. Putting myself into her shoes, this situation is like one of the ends of the world.

I felt the intense heaviness of the heart when I learned he passed away. Immediately, I thought of my mother, I worried. I knew that she has the heaviest heart--she is our mother and I knew her. I felt my knees weakening down.

That devastating afternoon began the night before. I had a fever, colds, and muscle pains. I couldn't sleep. In the morning, I was weakening down. I drank a lot of water. Then I sat on the porch facing the skies. I fell asleep. That day I took a leave of sickness from the office. I woke up at eleven o'clock. I was hungry, slowly opened the fridge, and ate some sandwiches. Then I took my medicine full of hope to recover faster. After that, I lied down on my bed while listening to meditational music. One internet message interrupted the sweet music. I went to read it. It was my cousin stating that my brother was in the hospital and was really in bad condition. I didn't reply her because I was dizzy facing the monitor. I went back to bed and started thinking. What was wrong (if you consider it wrong) is that, I never thought of someone passing away. I have known him as a big brother, strong one, and someone who was full of dreams. I just thought he would recover and get back home to be with his wife and his two kids at the soonest time. Consequently, I fell asleep again.

Then a phone call woke me up at three o'clock  in the afternoon, It was my sister at Hongkong. I could hazily hear what she was saying. She had a very weak voice. I never thought of anything that time. Then I fully awoke and set my phone. She said, "It's done. It's done. It's all over. Do you understand?", then she coughed. I understood nothing on what she said. I clarified and she replied, "It's all over. It's done. I am tired already. I will tell them to make it four days. I'll request them to wait for us." Then it took me half a minute to think. I swear I never thought someone died. And my sister told me, "Are you going home? Book a ticket immediately and let's meet in Manila." I just said okay with a trembling voice. Then she said she'll call me later.

I stared at my phone with blank eyes and pointless pace. I slowly stood up and went to respond a facebook message. It was my cousin. There, I saw the words, "Your brother passed away, they're taking him home this time. Be strong brother. I pray for your safety." And that broked me. I cried like a baby. My body went trembling until I felt I was empty. I didn't want to think anymore. I just stared at the sky.

It happened, I was able to get home despite my sickness. There I was able to embrace my home again, and see my love ones. I was happy for that, yet the heavy feeling didn't distance even a bit, it went closer as I stare at my older brother's face. He was in laying in a tomb with pine tree scent. I remember me and him discussing about death long before this.

My Brother: Good for me if I'm able to reach fifty (of age) before I die. (laughs)

Me: You will. And I'll be fourty-nine. (laughs)

My Brother: If I die where would they bury me? I don't have any properties yet. (laughs)

Me: We will let them bury us in the mountains, so that we can look over the place of pines. (laughs)

My Brother: (Laughs)

We were the closest in the family. He taught me how to be a man. He taught me how to attract women and how to walk like a tough guy. He helped me in my high school home works. He bought me clothes and shoes. I always wanted to go with him when he got somewhere to go. He taught me how to sing. Now these things are memories. I have memories. He is a memory. But this memory will always linger on. Soon I will see him again. And I'll be a memory too.