Goodbye My Rainbow

How do we ever say goodbye to the person we love? I am never good at coping with death. Even if the person I love has long been gone, their death always make me sad, and at times, bring tears into my eyes.

Last Tuesday, my good uncle and friend met a tragic vehicular accident. His death was shocking and hard to accept.

His personality is like the rainbow – ever beautiful, vibrant, happy, hopeful and full of life. My memories of him is composed of fun times together, a few green jokes and the instruction that even if we don’t have much, as long as we remain family, its what matters most.

Thinking that I will never see him again, not hear his voice,that I will no longer be able to hold his hand and laugh with his jokes is painful. 

At the same time today, last year, we were celebrating my sibling’s debut. It was a time of thanksgiving, of the family being together and celebration of my engagement. Uncle was there and was constantly bringing life to the party with his jokes and “cruel” questions. He said that “As long as we’re together, we shouldn’t care if we’re poor. We’ll have this same celebration next year. We will again, be together.”

Never did it cross my mind that our get-together this year is because of his death. I tried so much to not think about it, just accept it. But I can’t. I owe this man so much. He was my fashion critique and make up artist during my high school prom, he bullied me into getting married and in the blink of an eye he was gone.

I cannot bear the thought of not seeing him again, of not hearing him laugh. He has yet to meet my baby, he has yet to see me walk down the aisle in a church wedding. 

Tito, why were you gone too soon? Who will manage the farm now? Who will be the life of the party?

The more I think about it, the more real it seems. The more real it becomes, the more painful it is. 

Rest in peace, Tito. Rest well and happy. And when I see a rainbow, I’ll think of you.

Miss Me But Let Me Go

When I came to the end of the day,

And the sun has set for me

I want no rites in a gloom filled room,

Why cry for a soul set free?

Miss me a little, but not too long

And not with your head bowed low

-an excerpt from an Anonymous poet

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