Years ago (not sure when exactly), a very dear friend of mine was diagnosed with a serious illness - Leukemia : a cancer of the blood or the bone marrow. His condition was kept confidential, and only his family knew the real score of his failing health. After some time of struggling and fighting over the Big C for the sake of his family and loved ones, he breathed his last on October of 2010.
I was on my way home when I got the bad news from one of our common friends. I was struck, I felt I was frozen... I can't move, I can't think. My long hopeful days has finally come to an end. He's gone.
I went directly to the computer shop to post my sentiment of Facebook... I need an outlet, I can't contain my disbelief. Apparently, it didn't help. I went home, do my usual routine and fell asleep. Days after, I went to my beau's place which is two houses away from the wake. I know I need to go to my friend and pay respect but I can't. I feel like I was not ready yet. Another set of days passed, on one of those nights, he visited me in a dream. I was walking in an alley directing to our street when he suddenly appeared beside me from behind... held my hand then walked away, back to where he appeared from. As I was looking at him with clueless reaction, he waved goodbye at the end of the alley and gestured "I'll go now". The dream was almost real, his smile was bright and genuine. It was as if he is ready to leave. When I woke up, I know what I need to do.. and I know I must do it regardless if I'm ready or not. I went to him on the last day of his wake, but I need to wait for my beau to tag along with me since I have a tendency to pass out on unlikely situations. He held my hand tight as he lead me to the house, I was trembling as I walked through the gate and saw the large tarpaulin image in front of their home... my hands began to shake. I felt hesitant, but I need to be brave. Finally we reached the doorstep, and as I lean forward to see his better half sitting in front of the coffin, I broke down in tears and grabbed my beau out of the house. Until now I still wonder what made me cry that day, was is the reality quickly rushing in on me, or the look in the eyes of his wife where I instantly felt the pain and the loss. It took me a while to regain my composure, then at last I was able to peek on the coffin and see him.
I was able to talk to his widowed wife (who is also a dear friend), and I never can imagine the agony they had gone through and their battle against death. For the first time, I admired her for her courage because I know deep inside me that death is something that I will never be able to overcome. I know she's breaking apart, but she needs to be tough for their son. It was when I realized, we're too young for this kind of torture. I mean, we can worry about other things that people our age worry about, like money, temptations or career.... but not death.
It was the last night of his wake, and resentments were overflowing. He was young, talented and amiable. There could have been more in life that awaits him. All day, all we want to do is remember how blissful our younger years were. He was a funster, normally the most loud mouthed and the most hyper active among the group. He would play all around, joke all he wants and laugh his heart out.. never a dull moment around him. We fight, yes! All friends do, all normal people do... but that's only one of the childish things we make.
No matter how extravagant our lives were, the memory of "what was" will still bring us to the reality of "what is". Now, we can't be able to see him again, laugh with him again, dance with him again, even fight with him again. Whenever I open my Facebook account, how I wish his message will still pop up the screen and delight me.
Wherever you are, we know you are happy because you are home. We miss you Jericho.
Thank you for the memories, thank you for the friendship.
Jhoy and JL loves you and misses you so much!
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