Camia

Camia

JANUARY 21, 2007

“In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.”

Some time in my college years, during my few trips to the library, I stumbled upon this phrase while gathering books to be used as sources for a short paper in econ 101. The phrase is direct and easy to understand yet it carries a bitterly-sarcastic reality that spares no one. No one is free from taxes but most of all no one escapes death. Not even Peter Pan. What’s worst is that we are not assured of a quick and painless death – the variables come in play even if the result is doom. Thus is the case of my beloved uncle.

He has spent his last two months in hospital battling all sorts of illness. His soul was strong, and it had the will to live, but his body was weak. The inevitable came earlier than expected, last night around 11 pm, his earthly tent finally gave in, the straps and pinnings uprooted by the torturous wind. The death god took him away.

I guess things will never be the same without him. The usual family gatherings, and casual family conversations will be less lively without him. Also, I won’t see him riding his bike on the way to to his camia field. His usual attire: long sleeves and nylon pants with a “takas” loosely fastened on his waist is carved in my memory. Although he was fighting to the last breath, he died with a face that of a happy man. I guess he knew in his deathbed that the clan did everything in it’s power to save him even if the chances of survival is nil.

We know that he is in a better place right now. A place where death and taxes are non-existent. A place where illness and heart problems are unheard of. Having that in mind lessens our pain.

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