#46

I’ll be writing this journal in response to my uncle’s death last May 17, 2015. I would like to think that this blog is a personal diary of mine, and although it isn’t as personal as others claim it to be due to the fact that it’s been published online, I’d like to think that this entry is something that I’d like to return to, knowing I can access it anywhere without losing it, compared to a diary or merely saving it on my computer.

I know my words can’t reach you anymore, Tito. But I’ll be writing this down because I need to express it, or else I may go ballistic.

I have never expressed how grateful I am that God has bestowed me with such a caring uncle who would crack jokes and make me laugh when times were tense, or even just for the sake of seeing our lips curve into smiles. I have never said my thanks to you for being a warmhearted uncle, and for keeping the faith… through the end of your life, you still thought of seeing us smile, and I smiled for your sake. Thank you for being such a great uncle.

I have never apologized to you for all offenses I’ve made against you. There were times when I had embarrassed you, and times when you’d go out of your way to help me. I’m sorry for the wrong things I’ve done, and I hope you forgive me.

But most of all, what I really regret not saying is… I love you, Tito.

Overcome with embarrassment, I opted not to say it and told you to be strong. I know you sensed the love from us, your family, but it’s different if you heard it yourself. Seeing your lifeless body today… it felt like my heart was punctured for a second. I had so many stories to tell you, but it all ends there. You can’t hear me, you can’t see me… I couldn’t believe it.

You’re dead, but on some days I’d like to think that you’re still out there, living your life in optimum condition. It’s my way of getting through the day without having to get teary eyed whenever you cross my mind. But what made me feel terrible was that I sensed some sort of finality when I last saw you. It hurts me to think that for one moment, I was talking to you and the next thing I know, I couldn’t anymore. The complexities of life… something which I must inevitably accept, whether I truly understood it or not.

Tito Darvin, wherever you are, I hope that you’re in a better place, a place without pain and suffering, a place where you don’t have to worry about making others smile. I hope that you’re happy over there, and may you have no regrets whatsoever. I pray that God would open His doors for you, look past all your mistakes and see how big and beautiful your heart truly is.

I wish you could read this letter, because I wasn’t able to say it when I last visited you, thinking that I’d be seeing you soon.

Gone too soon.

I miss you already, Tito.

Love,
BG.