I hate goodbyes and the emotions that are all tied up with it. But life always comes to a point of transition. We never know what happens on the next few seconds. And transition more often than not brings sadness or some types of isolation.
Couple of hours ago, I’ve got a text message saying that a dear friend passed away. I was shocked and got teary eyed. I felt a sudden pain in my stomach. It was as if I couldn't breathe in a minute. I’ve experienced it more than once before, first was when I was about to say goodbye to a feeling I’ve been used to, and the recent one (which I always encounter) is whenever I see my father trying to endure the harrowing pain of cancer (I’ve had two blog entries on it – The Strength of a Father and Silently Weeping). But like what I’ve said, this saddening message is just too recent not to stir me. I’ve had lost relatives in the past so I could say that this feeling is not new. But this friend of mine, just 7 months older than I am, was too young to leave us just like that.
I first met him when I was in first year back in college. We both worked with the university's Students Publication Unit (The Gazette). He has always been a jolly person. He never failed to crack a joke that could make us laugh. He also used to smile like there’s no tomorrow. I remember one time when a girl sent a poem (with a picture of him with that ever glowing smile) to him entitled, “Ngiti” (Smile). Of course, things as mushy as that was something we couldn't help making fun of. We have it posted at the glass door of the office to tease him. He told us (in a funny way) that he just really had a lot of fans (ha-ha, that’s the confidence I never had). Indeed, there were no dull moments with him. He’s always too expressive and he would never keep you out of place. He would always think of something to talk about to get to know you more and to break the ice. Yea, he’s good at that – in creating icebreakers and turning your somber face a happy one.
But he’s more than just a happy face, he’s a person of responsibility and commitment. While I prefer multi-tasking (which makes me always in a rush), he’s used to commit to just one thing at a time yielding better results in a long run. There was one time when he left the pub for a semester because he needed to focus on his studies. He told us that he couldn’t commit into two things at the same time and that if he wanted something to happen, he had to put his heart, 100% into it. He did what he said and experienced the fruit of his labor and went back to the pub to perform our common passion. I could recall the time when he told me that we (Mot, he and I) should graduate Cumlaude. He wanted the three of us (batch mates both in the academe and in the pub) to prove that we were not just into extra curricular, and that while the paper was acting as a catalyst of change inside the University and in the larger society, we had to make sure that we’re leading by example, and that we’re not just motivators but more of doers. And the three of us we’re able to achieve what he hoped for (though Mot and I graduated one sem prior to him since he stopped schooling due to an illness).
Five years are more than enough to know him. He's someone you could easily get close with because he’s what he was, no pretensions, and no reservations. He’s somebody you could always trust because what he could offer was real, true and direct. He’s someone you could first ask If you look good or not, or if you do poorly or fairly normal. He would also commend you if you’re doing excellent and castigate you if you’re stepping on somebody’s shoes.
I could say a lot of good things about him, not for the sake of giving an elegy to someone departing or a tribute to an icon like what people usually do on the death (ohh, how I hate this word) of a celebrity or a public figure. Not for the idea of simply alleviating the pain of his immediate family. Not because he’s a friend of mine and the cliché “birds of the same feather flock together.” But because that’s just what he really was. On those years we spent together, I never had felt any twinge of upsetting feeling towards him; he has never offended any one; and I am confident to say that not even a single soul could hint that he or she by any chance was offended by him. Not even a single soul.
At this point in time, we are mourning for the passing of not just a loyal friend and confidante but more so of a good and a dignified person we have always known. I am teary eyed as I write this entry; perhaps I’m still on denial of losing him for a short while. I’m on a period of transition, and I will always miss the days we spent together, all the laughter, tears and dreams that we shared. I will miss his tease and jokes, his criticisms and approval. I will miss his being a friend, his being a real gem.
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Anthony, wherever you are now, our prayers are with you. You’ve been an amazing person, someone we could never forget as we go along our lives. Thank you for reminding us that life is too short to waste on mundane things. You’ve imparted in us one great life lesson of struggles and survival. You’ve shown us how to smile despite the pain; how it is to live life to the fullest; to seize every opportunity; to appreciate the people around us; and to be content with whatever good thing we have and yet expecting for the best and delighting for what is to come.
You’ve just passed one great transition in life. We would really be missing you but we are glad that you are coming home to our permanent home in heaven anytime soon. There will be no more pain there. The pain of leukemia or any type of affliction can never reach you there. You’re going to be in your rightful place in eternity, where love and joy reign and where you can devote your passion all you want.
I rather not say goodbye for I know that I will still meet you and be with our heavenly Father in my own Victory Day.
Thank you my friend. Till we meet again.
*Our dear friend, Anthony Galisanao, 23 yrs old, passed away on Sept 09, 2009 after over a year of struggle against leukemia.
