How does a person cope with death? Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.
I don’t know if those stages apply to me, but I am still in shock. I don’t know how to react, I don’t know how to behave. People around me have shed their share of tears. I haven’t. To think, we are really close cousins. We grew up together, played when we were younger, got drunk when we were older. I thought we could have grown older as adults and still close to each other.
Let this be my virtual shedding of tears. WE WILL MISS YOU SOOOOO MUCH, Ate Cath. So much. You could’ve waited for us to visit you. But I know you kept it strong. You were strong enough to still goof around Facebook in your last days with us. What saddens me most is that I did not check up on you and you’re just two houses away from me.
September 1. Street Party. That is the last memory I have of you. We partied and danced and drink until you were too drunk to have another round. You went home ahead. I never knew that my “Bye Te Cat” would really be my last goodbye. I promise, in your behalf that we, your cousins will hang around this sem break and go hit the beaches, for you. That’s a promise.
You’re still sooooo young and you had a great life ahead of you. But wherever you are, I hope you are in a peaceful and happy place. Right now, I’m browsing through your Facebook timeline, still in shock that we will never see you in your smile and giggle that keeps your “agaws” together. I’m having goosebumps every time I attempt to start this tarpaulin I’m dedicating for you.
I’ll miss the annual barrio fiesta disco that we do, I’ll miss the Balut nights that we have, I’ll miss the laags and the chillouts and the inom sessions that we occasionally have.