Just heard from my dear friend Annabelle that her dad passed away last week. Tata P always treated me like family. He always bent over backwards to make me feel welcome whenever I visited Honolulu. Ten years ago, he climbed a coconut tree just so I could have fresh coconut juice with my merienda - a horrifying feat since he was, at the time, 79 years old. Being in his company always meant learning something new, especially about the old ways. Because of him, I learned how to prepare katuray/katuday flowers for eating, a skill that will probably never be repeated (what are my chances of ever encountering fresh katuray flowers?), but nevertheless good to know, just in case. He was a solid salt of the earth man. He was born of generations of Ilocano farmers - made of sturdy stock with basic unerring morals, down-to-earth ways and ageless wisdom. Consistent with those of his generation, he suffered pains without complaint, this fatal time from a head trauma after a fall from a malunggay tree that occurred some months ago. He passed with plans of harvesting their alukon tree. He passed without any fuss, no drama...he took his last breath with full simplicity...peacefully. When I left for Manila last month, I had the urge to pass by Hawaii on my way back to visit Annabelle. But I made other plans. And so I missed the opportunity to say goodbye; I missed the chance to be there for my friend. Just before she hung up, Annabelle told me that her dads passing reminded her of me and Kuya Awins demise. Her statement was so touching...humbling and endearing...for how could I ever deserve a friend who thinks of me when she should be seeking my comfort? I have to visit Hawaii soon, if only to put flowers at Tata Ps grave, give my love and respect to Nana Ketang, and tightly hug my ever dearest friend. Yes, Annabelle, life is too short to miss opportunities.
Posted on: Wed, 05 Mar 2014 08:06:08 +0000