30.8.20

30th Day August

This day, every year, I comb through photo albums in search of photos of us, you and me as a young child. Sadly, there aren’t too many, the few blurred pictures that

St. Joseph's Church
create what delicate memories I have. I recounted to N. what this morning was like twelve years ago. Today is the day that your Lolo died, and we especially remember him today. Like the movie Coco. She asks, Can we place his picture on the altar?

It was the one time we decided to sleep at our home in need of a short respite as we were on death watch for the past almost three weeks. Early morning, Mom called, Come now. A. and I raced down the turnpike in silence. I’d been doing this drive back and forth between my parents’ and ours for a while now.

Nunda Ave.
The time to say goodbye had arrived. 

Deeply grateful that you chose to die on your own terms. Having stopped all treatment, dying at home and prepared to brave infinite life beyond the stars. 


A toast to you, Dad.