Dear Andres,
So I was told you have passed away and Im writing you like you could really read it, huh? Some will take me for a fool, need to be locked away. But perhaps, this is more for me than for you. I am trying to make myself better for not having gone with the rest of our batchmates to come at your wake.
Well, honestly, for one, you might have heard that I am not in good terms with one of our classmates. Funny, but she was the first one I thought of when I receive the text saying you have gone. Time flies, I said and one day, our turns will come to leave this world. And I have a grudge to settle with her. I dont feel comfortable with the thought that i am not at peace with someone before I go. But something takes me back, and if there is a struggle in me when I want to do something, then I forget it. It's not time.
So, sorry, for that main reason, I cannot come and see you with them for company. Never mind if they will make me their main course of topic in your wake. It would be a funny thing of you hearing them talk aout me, eh? I hope you will slap their napes for me, as I m sure you will hear them say foolish things about me. (Pateltelam man tay agsao ti narasi, brother!) Well, it's not a pleasant thought, but it also "elleks" me because it just goes to show how heavy my branches must be if i were a tree, with fruits they enviously wish was theirs rather than mine. (Mapalkagerl?)
And you see, one thing more, I am not really into wakes. Id rather remember you the last time I saw you at Eddie boy's family house way back many years ago, or just recall your texts to me months before you died, the last one being "we only have one life to live, but one life well lived is worth a lifetime.." something... whatever.. That must have been one of those texts your friends sent you to concole you eh, when you were struggling with your chemo sessions. And that might even have triggered you to tell me when you called, that "I asked myself if i have done something significant in my life and i see that i have not done anything at all." Ne ay! And you were the smart alecky one in class!
You were undoubtedly one of the best boys in class, brain-wise. But you were not bookish like me or spent after class hours reading our homeworks. in class, you rocked the organized thoughts of our english teacher when you cited that the A and the AN had exceptions to the rule, which was your name--An Dres(s)-- Or, when youw ere asked to give an example of words with the prefix, "UN" again you used your name ANDRES(SED) Chicken. My goodness! Boys like like were born to make laughs at the expense of teachers to make them loosen up. Okay, you did deviant acts, but admittedly, you awakened the sleeping bloods and removed the boredom that was sipping through the class. The "good" students like me weren't expected to do the same, but I know now i would have loved to do the same. But i didnt have that kind of leverage. No, I just wasnt made the way you were. But that made me one pf your victims eh? Once I was trying to preside over a meeting at a time when everyone wanted to go home or go somewhere else. And you just wouldnt help! You teased me and you succeeded in making me mad.
You will always be Andres, the handosme, chinky eyed, fair haired boy of the Singson family. You were even the third best in class, if i remember right? And you were in Section White, a fitting section if they chose our sections based on skin color. Hahaha!
Anyway, say hi to the old man above when you see Him. You know Andres that i was with you on some days before you were called home. And I remember you said you wanted to come home to Vigan and run for office? And didnt you say that you would have been with city hall long before i did because you were called in ny the late Mayor Agdamag? And yes, we promised to see each other when you came here. You said you will tell me what you thought could be done for Vigan and i would see to them because maybe you wouldnt be able to. Now, that is one thing regrettable now. We didnt make the time to meet.
Anyway, there you lie in your best dress, and you must be looking dapper and super-executive. Well, our children are our tickets to immortality. If you raised them well, then they will do what you would have done if you had lived longer than 47 years.
And hey, what did you do anyway? Why did you ahve to die so young?
Sincerely,
Jo
So I was told you have passed away and Im writing you like you could really read it, huh? Some will take me for a fool, need to be locked away. But perhaps, this is more for me than for you. I am trying to make myself better for not having gone with the rest of our batchmates to come at your wake.
Well, honestly, for one, you might have heard that I am not in good terms with one of our classmates. Funny, but she was the first one I thought of when I receive the text saying you have gone. Time flies, I said and one day, our turns will come to leave this world. And I have a grudge to settle with her. I dont feel comfortable with the thought that i am not at peace with someone before I go. But something takes me back, and if there is a struggle in me when I want to do something, then I forget it. It's not time.
So, sorry, for that main reason, I cannot come and see you with them for company. Never mind if they will make me their main course of topic in your wake. It would be a funny thing of you hearing them talk aout me, eh? I hope you will slap their napes for me, as I m sure you will hear them say foolish things about me. (Pateltelam man tay agsao ti narasi, brother!) Well, it's not a pleasant thought, but it also "elleks" me because it just goes to show how heavy my branches must be if i were a tree, with fruits they enviously wish was theirs rather than mine. (Mapalkagerl?)
And you see, one thing more, I am not really into wakes. Id rather remember you the last time I saw you at Eddie boy's family house way back many years ago, or just recall your texts to me months before you died, the last one being "we only have one life to live, but one life well lived is worth a lifetime.." something... whatever.. That must have been one of those texts your friends sent you to concole you eh, when you were struggling with your chemo sessions. And that might even have triggered you to tell me when you called, that "I asked myself if i have done something significant in my life and i see that i have not done anything at all." Ne ay! And you were the smart alecky one in class!
You were undoubtedly one of the best boys in class, brain-wise. But you were not bookish like me or spent after class hours reading our homeworks. in class, you rocked the organized thoughts of our english teacher when you cited that the A and the AN had exceptions to the rule, which was your name--An Dres(s)-- Or, when youw ere asked to give an example of words with the prefix, "UN" again you used your name ANDRES(SED) Chicken. My goodness! Boys like like were born to make laughs at the expense of teachers to make them loosen up. Okay, you did deviant acts, but admittedly, you awakened the sleeping bloods and removed the boredom that was sipping through the class. The "good" students like me weren't expected to do the same, but I know now i would have loved to do the same. But i didnt have that kind of leverage. No, I just wasnt made the way you were. But that made me one pf your victims eh? Once I was trying to preside over a meeting at a time when everyone wanted to go home or go somewhere else. And you just wouldnt help! You teased me and you succeeded in making me mad.
You will always be Andres, the handosme, chinky eyed, fair haired boy of the Singson family. You were even the third best in class, if i remember right? And you were in Section White, a fitting section if they chose our sections based on skin color. Hahaha!
Anyway, say hi to the old man above when you see Him. You know Andres that i was with you on some days before you were called home. And I remember you said you wanted to come home to Vigan and run for office? And didnt you say that you would have been with city hall long before i did because you were called in ny the late Mayor Agdamag? And yes, we promised to see each other when you came here. You said you will tell me what you thought could be done for Vigan and i would see to them because maybe you wouldnt be able to. Now, that is one thing regrettable now. We didnt make the time to meet.
Anyway, there you lie in your best dress, and you must be looking dapper and super-executive. Well, our children are our tickets to immortality. If you raised them well, then they will do what you would have done if you had lived longer than 47 years.
And hey, what did you do anyway? Why did you ahve to die so young?
Sincerely,
Jo
