Death of a family member or other people I know reminds me just how short our life is and that it’s something that we don’t really own and could be taken from us anytime.
My brother, 44 years old, passed away last September 19th. We did not know of any illness, if he had any, prior to his passing. Everything happened so quickly that we did not even have time to say goodbye to him.
12 years older than me, he's supposed to be the youngest until I came. He’s my big brother who was also my Math tutor when I was in grade school. He would help me with my assignments especially with worded problem solving, which I so hate. I would wait for him to come home from his work in Q.C. just because I don’t have interest in Math. When he was still with his work then, he’d buy me stuff like shirt, cassette tapes, my exchange gift for school, etc. He’s that kind of big brother.
He’s also the clown of the family, well, aside from me. He’s known as the joker who did not take things seriously. Despite this, he’s also the only one who wouldn’t answer back to our “elders” – our lola, mom, and dad. There were times they’d lecture him about something especially before he got married (or even when he was already married) and we wouldn’t hear anything from him. To my mom, he’s the quietest, most obedient of her sons and daughters.
My only regret is that I may not have been a perfect sister for her. I also became busy with my life during the time he probably needed help. I am hoping he’d forgive me for that.
One thing I never had the chance to tell him is that I love him. We’re that kind of family; we’re not the telling kind. We’re more practical than anything.
Thank you, Kuya, for everything you have done for me. I hope you're now in a better place with no problems and worries.
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