I still think I see him around, not really as a ghostly apparition or something, but in the features of people I see in the bus, on the street, in school sometimes…
I have sudden urges of approaching the person, half expecting to still see the big smile in the face of the big, gentle guy…
I still half expect to see him around school with his camera, or just him in his black brother’s outfit, walking…
Somehow, maybe I haven’t fully accepted it, because it doesn’t seem real to me…It seems to me that he is the kind of person who will be around me forever…
It didn’t seem real that he was… is… gone.
I promised to myself that I would write a very lengthy and heartfelt tribute on your 40th day…
But it seems like I’m at a loss for words…
I decided to wait a little longer so I can compose my essay…
Your 66th birthday passed…
but still to no avail…
It is because I still find it hard to believe that I will no longer see you ever…
And now it has been a year since…
It was fitting but ironic that you passed away on Father’s Day last year.
Thanks Bro., for being an icon of inspiration…
For being hands on, in watching over us, taking care of us…
I will miss your stories in every homily, your laugh, your accent, your mere presence…
…I didn’t have the chance to even show off my son to you… I remember very clearly when I texted you that I had already given birth last year… you replied with one of the most inspiring messages of all…
“Alleluia! Extremely proud and happy for you! Remember, every child born is a message na, May pag-asa pa!”
How very optimistic! Thank you Bro.! Now everytime I look at my baby boy, I see him as a symbol of hope, and love.
Thank you, Brother Ceci…
It might still take a long time for me to fully realize that you’re truly forever gone, partly because I would like to remember you as alive as you can be, as lively as you always are…
Rest now Bro., thank you for always watching over us…
No one can ever ever replace you in our hearts.
I have sudden urges of approaching the person, half expecting to still see the big smile in the face of the big, gentle guy…
I still half expect to see him around school with his camera, or just him in his black brother’s outfit, walking…
Somehow, maybe I haven’t fully accepted it, because it doesn’t seem real to me…It seems to me that he is the kind of person who will be around me forever…It didn’t seem real that he was… is… gone.
I promised to myself that I would write a very lengthy and heartfelt tribute on your 40th day…
But it seems like I’m at a loss for words…
I decided to wait a little longer so I can compose my essay…
Your 66th birthday passed…
but still to no avail…
It is because I still find it hard to believe that I will no longer see you ever…
And now it has been a year since…
It was fitting but ironic that you passed away on Father’s Day last year.
Thanks Bro., for being an icon of inspiration…
For being hands on, in watching over us, taking care of us…
I will miss your stories in every homily, your laugh, your accent, your mere presence…
…I didn’t have the chance to even show off my son to you… I remember very clearly when I texted you that I had already given birth last year… you replied with one of the most inspiring messages of all…
“Alleluia! Extremely proud and happy for you! Remember, every child born is a message na, May pag-asa pa!”
How very optimistic! Thank you Bro.! Now everytime I look at my baby boy, I see him as a symbol of hope, and love.
Thank you, Brother Ceci…
It might still take a long time for me to fully realize that you’re truly forever gone, partly because I would like to remember you as alive as you can be, as lively as you always are…
Rest now Bro., thank you for always watching over us…
No one can ever ever replace you in our hearts.
