TODAY, you will be laid in your final resting place. If it were all up to you, that can wait. There are more important things to do. Like, there are more plans, bigger as they come.
That’s been your life’s narrative. You blazed your earthly trail with consuming passion, boundless enthusiasm and relentless motion like a superhuman with a colossal mission.
Once upon a time, when you were much younger, you said you had already done something more than an older mortal would have done. But that didn't slow you down, much less stopped you.
So you worked, loved, and dreamed hard enough as no one did. And enough was just the beginning of another. It’s as if you were constantly racing against yourself or with the future, whichever came first.
Borrowing the classic words of George Bernard Shaw, when others saw things as they were and asked why, you dreamt of things that never were and asked why not.
The why not is the why now. In the end, the prize is also the price. That's why, the sense of loss is more than a jolt to the heart but a melting of the soul.
Thank you for leaving your beloved province better, immensely, than when you found it.
AS you journey now to your eternal home, may you be welcomed by angels with a thousand songs. May they wipe heavy tears off your eyes as they stream from a heart torn asunder by your unbidden departure from your loved ones, your friends, your people who were as much shocked as you were surely surprised by the suddenness of it all.
You'd known surprises, especially the big ones, all your life. They were your trophies, in fact.
But this one cuts across the heart, across the board, as the song goes, like a sharp knife.
When the Pinatubo erupted decades ago, you made probably one of your self-less decisions ever to face a huge challenge bigger than life itself. You told your corporate people: Take care of my business while I take care of the province.
In selflessness, you found success. In success, you chose service. In service, you modelled leadership. In leadership, you embraced humility. In humility, you discovered who you really were.
I'm sure you will miss the times when you were abroad with your family, and your kids borrowed your credit card and returned somewhat “bruised” – “gasgas”, in your words. There was certain joy every time you recalled those moments. I'm sure the kids will miss those, too.
The wife had always been the constant pi in your successes, modest ones, you would qualify. They would not have been possible without her, you would say.
Farewell now, beloved boss, dearest husband, sweet father, trusted business partner, precious friend and colleague, adviser, mentor, helper, benefactor.
People, far and near, remember your greatness that had touched their lives with a magical quality.
You will be missed. Terribly missed.
By the way, don’t worry about Oca, he'll be fine.