Saturday, December 09, 2006

Farewell, Uncle L.

I have lived my life for quite a while now. I got to know people along the way. My parents, my family, my relatives, my classmates, my playmates, my collegues, etc., etc. But I lump them into one group, only because I have only one heart. Nowadays, I call them friends, as I always want them to be. A friend is another soul, another being that you share yourself with. Each holds a place in your heart. With the advent of the ID system and all these deindividualization of man in today's corporate sham (you are just a number, remember?), I have to constantly remind myself that we are more than the statistics that we are portrayed to be. Because we are people... my friends are my friends. Each of them mean something to me.

One of my uncles (my mother's brother's wife's youngest brother) passed away two days ago. He's so young, I don't think he's even 50. I remember he used to pick me up from school in my younger days. I remember he used to live in our home (practically) when I was growing up. I remember him with his characteristic smile; lighthearted he is, warm and affectionate. He gave up a kidney when he was in his twenties (I believe) to someone who needed it to live. Like a lot of my friends though, I never knew much of him after I came to the US. But I always think of him with fondness.

Last night, me and my brother were having the usual night session. We talked about Uncle L. Then I said, "He's so young! I can't believe it! It's amazing how life is!" My brother agreed and said, "Life is so short, really. The only thing we can do is to think of something and do it, and then to pass it on to our kids." Then he continued on saying that a lot of times, our kids won't even listen to us because we already live in different worlds. But we can teach others who are a bit younger than us (cause at least, they still listen), and hope that someday they too will teach our children the way we taught them. "We relay things to them in whatever avenues we find," he added. I nodded my head.

I still don't know the reason for our being here, this I can say. But a lot of times nowadays I think it is really the wrong question to make only because our life is not meant to be thought of; if anything, it is meant to be lived. And to live does not mean just the day-to-day waking up and eating and going to work and coming home and doing things every now and then. It is more like reflecting on what you want to do then do it, creating a world that you foresee in your heart, spending moments with friends, share the beauty that you see and be open to surprises your friends will be sure to make. Above all, it is good to remember that we are all part of each other, and that my life is as much mine as my friends'.


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