I received a rather sad news this morning, and I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. And that was only after the initial shock. A friend — a very close friend actually, from my short list of friends — from long ago, when things weren’t as complicated and hectic as it is nowadays, died from a lingering illness last week. It was my sister who broke the sad news to me. Actually it shouldn’t have come as a shock to everyone since we’ve already known about his illness for quite some time already. But I (and even his friends I guess) was led to believe that things were a-ok and that he may have beaten the big C, and that he will still live long enough to see his children get married and start their own families. I was wrong, I guess, and so was everyone. And you know what the worst thing was? I was the last to know; and the fact that he and his family now resides about 4 time zones away from where I am means that I couldn’t say my last goodbyes to the man whom I shared not a few good times together.
We’ve lost touch (or was it intentional?) since he packed up everything and moved, “somewhere better, and safer” he would always say, away from this cursed land where corruption and murder has become the norm. It was, I guess, a wise move on his part but unfortunately, the close ties that we used to enjoy was seemingly broken by the distance. Funny this would happen in an age of electronic mails, blogs and yes… Facebook. In an age of instant messaging and cheap long-distance phone calls, keeping touch with someone from your past would have been as easy as pressing a few buttons. What happened? How can I not have made an effort to move my fingers and renew (or, in this case, relive) the once warm friendship that we had? He did have a Facebook account and all I needed to do was to search for, and add his name. How could I have been so stupid as to think that there is always time?
It’s too late now. All the “should haves” in the world won’t mean a thing now. But really, I should have been more pro-active, and supporting, when he was going through his toughest time. And while I was myself going through some of the toughest times of my life (marriage problems, work and money woes) that shouldn’t have been enough reason to not reach out. He was fighting for his life for Pete’s sake, how could I have been so insensitive? Yes, I (and some of our friends as well) was quite disappointed that he never made an effort to stay in touch after starting a new life in a foreign land, but we ourselves were remiss as well. We did have news about his condition and that alone should have prompted us to take the initiative. But nooo, I was too busy minding my own insignificant little problems.
Damn… excuses, excuses.
I’m sorry my friend… I am really, really sorry.
That’s how I felt when Martin my German friend was killed. I failed to answer some of his emails and I will remember the guilt. Some other relatives died and I wasn’t there. So last night, I visited a friend who’s so sick. Let’s learn the lesson and move on. Marami pa tayong kaibigan at sana, di na maulit ang guilt.
same happened to me. A non-Pinoy friend of mine called me on his cell phone from an Asian country in 2006 and I politely told him I was at a supermarket and couldn’t talk and he could send me an email so I can answer his query. The email never came. I found his obituary in an online journal run by his wife 3 years later. So sad.
oh, sad. i guess many of us failed to do what must be done for an ailing person one way or another. guilt is something we have to deal with. the pain can never go away but maybe lessened.
This is just so sad, sometimes though, we just have to let go.