REMEMBERING MY ONLY SISTER
It has been three years already when my only sister (it’s her birthday today—September 11), my only personal strength has ascended into heaven, there to meet our parents and beloved relatives. She must be very happy over there.
Although she may have wished to stay a little longer for her kids and grandkids, for her organization and subalterns, for her students and colleagues, so on and so forth, her time was unceremoniously limited by an ailment which ironically has a treatment already!
Had she took her time to be immunized with a vaccine for cervical ailment, she would not have suffered and she could have lived up to this very day and onwards. Take note dear readers, especially ladies, don’t forget to take your vaccine. Your future health, and possibly a longer lifespan, hinge on this insignificant medical routine.
There are numerous people, most of them very close to her heart whom she wished to serve more and that included me. She may have struggled to hang dearly on her life if only to be of help. She may have spent so much time in the academe, in her organization and among her peers that she forgot herself and her health in the process. She has devoted completely her time in the service of her universe.
But of course, her whole life revolved around her children. She was absolutely concerned about her eldest child, Aiko and grandchildren, Kraig and Kley. She was absolutely mesmerized by the scholarly intellect of her second child, Michi, her intellectual clone. And she was absolutely attached to her only son, RJ. It’s a pity that she was not able to take a glimpse at Teddy. She must be that ultra-doting grandma to Teddy for a personal reason because her childhood crush went by the name of Teddy also.
If she is still alive today, she may have celebrated her 60th birthday. We would have a big laugh today for transcending youth and entering the domain of senior citizens. She may have submitted her retirement already and by now, may have included in her itinerary a time to spend a vacation to her Kuya Ven down in Mindanao. I could have easily persuaded her to write a book, our joint undertaking. We were already contemplating on writing a book about our respective area of specialization. Her book may have been one of the most important textbook on Tech-Voc Education in the country.
Going further if fate had not intervened, my father would have been 93, my mother 85, my uncle Greg 78, my uncle Ben 68. My father probably would be wheel chair bound, my mother too. Well, uncle Greg would still be mobile and uncle Ben would still be swaggering with his guitar. But the grains in their respective hour glass may have been of different shades.
A sage once said, “Time can forget some memories, but there are some memories which make us forget time and those memories make life sweeter.”