March is Women’s Month. It is the month for celebrations, for promoting women’s rights, for campaigning women advocacies and women’s causes, and in the be all and end all – women’s power.
March, unfortunately, is also the time when one woman’s power failed.
A close friend of mine had succumbed to breast cancer. The disease has defeated her in the ripe age of 56. Today is her burial and I can’t take leave to see her one last time. I can’t catch a glimpse of her salt and pepper hair or her small frame.
I’ve been imagining her lying down, sleeping in her coffin but it’s too morose and so I think of her face when we were still together, spiritedly laughing. I think of her and I hear her voice, her advice and soft pats. I think of her and I remember her stories. I think of her and I grow afraid that I might forget. I think of her and I grow weak that what I know isn’t enough to sustain a memory of her.
I tried making a eulogy for her, listing down the little details I know of her, of her life, of what she shared with me. And I think that this is the only chance I will get to do so, so here goes.
“ I can probably count the things I know about you with both my fingers and toes.
1. I know that we both started teaching in 2000 and handled the same subject before, College Writing.
2. I know that you were born the Year of the Dragon.
3. I know that you love coffee. You loved it so much you roast and grind them yourself. And that you don’t like putting sugar in your coffee. The least you can add is a shot of syrup.
4. I know that you were a licensed CPA.
5. I know that have a Labrador retriever that you love so much, it lies with you in your bed. It even uses the same comfort room as you.
6. I know you can’t have chocolates. The time you tried one, you had a migraine so bad.
7. I know you suffer from asthma, but you still rarely miss your classes.
8. I know that you have a great talent for baking. You made me a batch of Food for the Gods on my birthday.
9. I know how you kept your father’s calligraphy set when he died, even though it was forbidden.
10. I know how you used to have your brother do your Chinese calligraphy homework because you had ugly handwriting.
11. I know, of course, that you went to St. Jude School.
12. I know that you went to Europe and visited Italy among other places.
13. I know that you have an Opus Dei bible or book of some sort
14. I know how you would never want to keep a mobile phone, especially if it means your students badgering you beyond school hours.
15. I know you moved in to Sir Mike’s cubicle once he went to Law School.
16. I know how you were always organized, checking your student’s papers, keeping tabs who were delinquent and so on.
17. I know how you handled some of my former students who failed or had a grade of incomplete.
18. I know how you would listen to me and advice me and joke with me in a non-condescending fashion, for you were at least 30 years my senior.
19. I know how you love Go Nuts Donuts, better than Krispy Kreme.
20. I know too who are the people who casually chatted with, if and when you have time.
And I know all these things and I don’t what to do with them now. For all I remember was how you were kind, and gentle, and wise, and understanding. But above all of these things, how you were my friend. “
Maybe it is better this way. The last thing that I will have is a memory of you with your lively face and not some cold reflection of what you used to be. And now that I think about it, it is quite odd, how the last picture you’ll be in is one where you are neither smiling nor frowning, preserved in digital printing technology, while the one that truly has an impression of me is a colorful and vibrant image of you.
Tags: advocacies, digital, month, printing, women's
