Two days after your silent passing, I sit here in a room, trying to get back to my usual routine. Burying my thoughts in work, trying to work on a planthopper flyer due tomorrow; then the invitation letter for my project’s Planning Meeting scheduled next month, and the list goes on. Funny, as I attend to all of these, I can hear your voice in my head…your soft voice back a month ago telling me to never to take work too seriously and not to stress myself out. That I should go out and enjoy. 5 pm and I should be out of the office and get more life and relax; then not to go to the gym, jog in the morning, ensuring to ingest more postivie ions; then get married, bear children who will take care of me when I get sick. Have a husband by my side that will always be there for me. All of these, no matter how soft and far, rings clear and reverberates a hundred times.
For those are the last memories you chose to leave with me…that 29 December morning of 2010 way back from June 2007; when we first met in DEVC 201 class. All the memories are washed down like a series of slideshows and videos. That time, I never treated anyone of you as my seniors but of colleagues, where my bratness found solace, and you shushed me like an elder sister. You told me not to curse when mad, finish the food on my plate, and taught me how to flirt. I can only give you dagger looks then, but I always looked up to you like an elder sister. When it was my turn to take the comprehensive exam, you told me not to study, but I did not listen to you; then you gave me this ‘I-told-you-so’ look.
Those memories seemed not so distant, so forgive me if until now I find it difficult to gather my thoughts that you’ve gone so fast, for I still hang on, hopelessly, to the hope that you still have two years to go.
And you knew me so well, you didn’t say goodbye for you knew I wouldn’t take it and I won’t be ready to. Just not that soon (like 48 hours after). I am still insistent of long driving to Ilocos or Bicol with you and the DevCom people. I am still insistent of changing steers with Ate Indhi; assigning Jaime to be the tour guide. Then Rizza’s contagious giggles will fill the air. Our craziness will make our day. I know it would have been a crazy ride, I like I always envision it. But then you cast your sad smile in return. Foolish of me to know it’s the last time I’ll ever see it. Foolish of me not to realize it meant, “no.”
I will miss you, Lizette. I will miss seeing your current playlist song as status in your Yahoo Messenger, and then fussing you about the songs (especially when it’s Madonna’s Like a Virgin) while working. Even though we were not able to meet up regularly after our graduation, I know our time is always well-spent every time we get to hang out and am glad to have paid you a visit during the last three weeks of your life.
You have gracefully fought your trial, for you have a lot of friends whose lives you touched so dearly. I am glad to be one of them…and you’re one heck of a tough cookie.
It is now time for you to rest, my friend; where there is no more pain or suffering. In God’s everlasting arms, I hope you will finally find peace and happiness.
For the meantime, please allow me to shed a tear for you, kahit one minute na lang. For my tears can only attest to the friendship and the fact that I will forever miss you. You’ve triumphed 32 fulfilling years of your life and I am so proud of you.