Dearly Departed

Silence hung low in the wake of this calm Saturday morning to pave way for the passing of such a beloved friend and companion. I woke up to a hope that you are okay, that you will be okay, only to have my hope smashed into fragile little pieces when I saw that painful look in your face, and how my heart bled in helplessness. But then maybe I was wrong. Maybe in a place far far away from here you are glad and happy and free  — free from all the pain and all the mistakes of the people around you. Maybe you have left a long time ago back when we, humans, foolishly thought that we had you, back when the urgency of death was too far away from anybody’s reach. Or maybe, just maybe, my feeble attempt to reconstruct my feelings by means of writing about you is a mere escape from this inexplicable burden in my chest; this agony, this  pain brought about by the aching realization that you are gone now. How sudden it was, how tormenting! It had only been 20 months, and how I’m begging now to have another 20 months with you.

Yesterday in PHIL 2073 class, I sat and listened intently to my professor and he quoted, as if by some unexplained premonition, the New Testament in the Holy Bible.

Death comes like a thief in the night.

How I bleed myself with every inch of regret for all the things that I could have done for you. How I wish I could recreate the past three days of this week and point myself directly to the first signs of your death. How I should have stayed up last night and accompanied you to your comfort, your safety. How I should have loved you more, when you were alive, when you were with me.

People tell us that we only learn the value of something when we have experienced the loss. People tell us to love before it’s too late. But most of all, people tell us to look at life with a sense of finality and realize that sooner or later we too shall come face to face with our demise. Until today I had myself covered with plenty of layers of my indifference. Until today my heart was a hard-shelled amber, stiff and impenetrable. Until today I never imagined that you would mean so much to me, and that losing you would make me lose myself as well. Your death, so sweet and silent, was like a gentle rainfall in the midst of a sunny day. Even in the final seconds of your short-lived existence, you did not cease to be that adorable little buddy that we have always known. And even with my scared shaky voice you still responded when I called your name.

I miss you already, buddy. As the hours move farther and farther away from the lonely days of August, so does my heart moves on from the lingering sadness of your passing away. This does not mean that I will forget you. I promise to remember you: when I wake up in the morning, when I sleep at night, when I go about with my routinary days in the university, when I go home and find that your eyes are what I’m longing for. I will always remember your smile, your stare, and even that funny way you smell when you haven’t taken a bath for weeks. I will always remember your patience in sitting for a long time by the dinner table waiting for a piece of bread to be given to you (And you did so without ever complaining). I will always remember your loyalty. I will always remember you.

Thank you so much for everything that I have learned from you, little buddy. Thank you so much for teaching me that much. Like everyone said, yours is a life lived well  — and even greater.


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