“If only you could be here, things wouldn’t be as bad as they seem to be. I’d give almost anything for you to be alive today. Now all that’s left is this memory of you, and visit where they lay you, six feet under.”
Why does the star shine in contradiction to the beauty you emit here when you were with us? Why were those short memories you left felt like relics that just went beyond my ability to excavate from my own lonely mind? When did you ever stop shining? What trouble befell you that you gave way to such horrible retreat? It’s not like you, to walk away in the middle of your absolutely beautiful song!
I remember the time you and dad were cooking. When the time for supper came, we all had a good laugh as you opened the rice cooker to rice all brown from being burned which turns out that you forgot to pour water before closing the lid to cook. I could recall only a meager amount of memory I’d known you spent with us, and I treasure them as best as I could. Secretly smoking out of either fear of or respect towards dad, which one I did not know, was one funny memory which I, to my surprise, happened to repeat the very same deed.
It was blissful to hear you active in church after left us. But a couple of years later, it was more than shocking to hear you gave in to intoxicating drinks. I was young back then, and I didn’t understand much of it. So I simply shook the shock away into thinking that it’d be only a temporary phase in your struggles and that you’d be better soon. Now I know I was terribly wrong!
Life has its demands and toils, I continue to spend most of my days busy with school and continue with college without a single year to break. You’d come to mind once in a while, and I couldn’t wait to finish my studies. The feeling rocketed when I one day, during a vacation in my final year, asked my mom about you and she said the same sad thing which I ever so dread. That was when I made up my mind that possibly with the profession and the skills I require I’d take care of you.
And one day, after having finished all my college duties, flunked in two papers and waiting for the time I could give my exams again to clear the papers, I asked mom again, and I felt as though my breath itself was ready to leave me. News so old, yet so new, yet so old, yet so shocking! I just kept everything to myself and quietly observed the mental clash between what I heard, what I wished for, and the undeniable truth; death. Mom said it happened a long time ago, that made it even worse.
I was having this dream, this plan, that even in your worst condition I’d be there as soon as I was capable. Death was never an option; never was, never is and never will be! And I didn’t even know it happened! The funny part that I was mentally bracing myself to the condition I’d see you in was hilarious as you already died, isn’t funny at all! And just to make it worse, you came to me in a dream and told me of your struggles. That took my thoughts away for weeks, and nothing makes it better ‘cause it’s useless information now.
And every time I get a little lonely, every time I get a little sad, I’d think of you and I’d somehow comfort myself. I’d like to think that you’re now watching me as I stand under the stars on a cold winter night, when the sky is clear and the stars are bright, I’d think of you. And as I’d write this letter to you, I don’t know where to send it ‘cause it’ll just get lost in the blues, as there is no address in the stars.
The other day parents of a so-called friend of mine told me I looked just like you. That’s when I smiled my best smile and lit up instantly ‘cause the only image of you I recalled was that of your perfect smiling face. I guess I could now try to live my best as having a same name and a same-looking face; I might just be able to live in your stead and do all the good deeds you might have planned to.