It's our younger son's weeklong spring break. We had to pick him up. It is quite a distance, so hubby took the afternoon off with the weekend traffic and weather forecast in mind. The news from the area in the past few days talked about a lot of hail, rain, and snow.
Given all that, out of an abundance of caution, we packed an overnighter bag and cooler for the drinks and snack foods. We had to giddy up, or all would be a wasted effort. It's full steam ahead!
Because it's a long drive, I often use the time to work on a blog post. And, it is high time to write again. I shouldn't sit this one out, or I'd risk losing the momentum altogether.
Anyway, I do this as the music plays in the background. I created a playlist that starts with songs of praise. Instrumental musical pieces are also on this playlist. Then some upbeats starting from the late 70s to early 2000, as well.
This time, however; it was hard finding the right words, regardless, and focus—again. Instead of basking in these moments (I enjoy long drives and stopping by to eat), listening to the supposed to be my "mood-setting music," brought me somberness—it brought to mind that my brother is gone. 😔
The music playing took me back in time, starting from when I was little. Like treasures but are of far more value because now I cannot add more to them, not a single more memory because he's gone.
My brother didn't say much when I was younger, but he walked up to me many times to talk. I guess he was fond of me. I recall times when he educated me about blood cells and their makeup. He was a biology student in college. Hence, I learned about "plasma," when I didn't have anything to do with it. I was just in either 3rd or 4th grade. The point is, it would be an understatement to say that he probably loved his major, otherwise; he won't bother to talk about the things they discussed in class. It fascinated him. ❤️
He was a great chess player. His passion for chess started when he was in college. He set aside money from his meager allowance to get him chess books. He learned the skill on his own, and patiently, he decoded the strategies by himself. It was the perfect fit for him as it is a mental game.
Robert James Fischer was his most admired Chessmaster in that he even named his first-born son after RJF. My brother won trophy after another as he crossed out one tournament after the next during his time in college and all the way to when he was already working. He took great pride in all of them. His perseverance paid off.
Now, as I think about it, a man of few words that he was in his youth, yet he knew how to put it aside. He knew he needed to step out of his comfort zone, fully understanding that the only way to test out his amassed chess skills was to face other chess players wherever there happened to be a tournament. In this regard, he never shied away. He knew what he was capable of doing and never doubted himself. He was laser-focused on the task at hand. His confidence increased as the years went by. His motto must have been: "I never lose. Either I win or learn." I came across this as I searched for chess keychains on Amazon.
One afternoon, it must have been during their semester break because it was on a weekday, and he was home, I told him that there was a chess tournament at my school. I asked him to teach me how to play. It didn't take much convincing, so there we sat on the floor. Then, with a passion in my voice, I explained that I would add my name to the list of those wanting to compete that afternoon. Speaking of confidence, huh?
In fairness, I was able to follow his instructions. Fast learner, you think? Well, I would say so, but to him, a thirty-minute session to learn the game wouldn't make the cut to join a school-wide tournament and to do it on the same day even. Can't blame me for hoping because I was under the impression I had his backing, taking the time to explain to me the rules of the game, such as how each of the pieces was made to move on the board.
Still, the good mentor that he was, he knew that what I wished to accomplish was pushing the envelope a little too much. So, no matter how hard I did to explain my point that I was ready because I am learning it from someone who got good at it and got really good at it in just such a short time, none of it worked. I caved.
Fast-forwarding events to when I was in college, I was dealing with a decision that was made for me, I was upstairs in my room and the phone rang. I was summoned to come downstairs as it was my brother on the phone. It was a long-distance call. Somehow I knew why he called. I did my best to avoid the topic. He didn’t give me a pep talk right away, but I knew he would touch on it any moment. He had been through it himself so he was qualified to give his two cents on the matter. He cared about my well-being. He wanted to make sure I was holding up just fine. Such a great brother that he was to me, would you, too, say so?
And then one Christmas or new year's eve, this was still during my college years, he and I, along with the other kids danced in our front yard. We had upbeat music going and we all danced like nobody or neighbors for that matter who could be watching. Our father watched in delight.
Then came the time to look for a job in the City (Manila area). My brother and his family were there, so it was a little easier to hit the ground running. Job search came to an end. Being new to the City life, and the area, my brother took the morning off I would say so he could show me how to get to work as I couldn't recall how to get there. I've put in applications left and right. The place of work was one of many that I went to for an interview.
He and I took two jeepney rides, and then the LRT (Light Rail Transit), with some walking in between. Before we parted, he took out his wallet, pulled out a few paper bills, and handed them to me. He understood that for the first two work weeks, I could only rely on what I had in my wallet. Not much, by the way.
Other things happened, countless of them, and naturally, he was in most, but these I've mentioned here are some of the ones that left an imprint in my mind. Some were rather not mentioned here because they were too personal, leaving me overly emotional. To talk about him here tugs at my heartstrings already.
He had a soft side that he just didn't let seen by those around him. In reality, he was a caring soul. But, what stood out the most to me was his spirituality which spoke of his faith, much so later in life. I find it all admirable. I don't say this now because he's no longer around. What I know is things he did to show his reverence for God, I'm not sure I could've done them myself given the same circumstances as his. He joined the Knights of Columbus. Now that he is gone, Heaven earned a Knight.
Our lives go through seasons. The passing of a loved one leaves an indelible marking to remind us of a great loss, such a loss that can never be recouped. Only memories remain. It is best to hold onto them tight and to keep praying that one day there will be a grand reunion at God's appointed time at which He is the Eternal Host where we, along with our loved ones who had gone before us are all in attendance. And, only then that relationships are perfected. We give and receive perfect love.
The family still got a long shot to heal the wounds. As with the weather we're in, the skies are cloudy. I hope to see the sun come back out without delay—its beams of light burst through, and along with that dry out our tears.
To you my brother, you checked all the boxes of what a brother should be, especially for his little sister. I miss you so much, my Kuya Danny. I love you! 🌹 May you rest in eternal peace. 🙏
Till we meet again...
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