My uncle died today. He was the youngest among my father's siblings. He was a proud Thomasian, and a very talented one, too. He studied Fine Arts in college, and I can still remember his drawing pads filled with portraits of different Hollywood stars.
I am deeply saddened by his death, although I know that now he doesn't have to suffer anymore. He was in so much pain, since the cancer had already spread to his bones. But he bore his pain with so much grace and dignity.
When I saw him last March, he was always in high spirits. He never uttered anything negative about his illness, or about anyone. He was happy in the company of his favorite teleserye characters, the ones that he would watch on ABS-CBN's The Filipino Channel.
On Sundays we would drive to church, as he still insisted on going, even though he knew God would understand his absence. Every week, a deacon from St. Christopher's Church, his parish, would go to his house to give him communion. God bless that deacon; his rewards are waiting for him in heaven.
I consider myself lucky, having had the chance to spend three weeks with him just this summer. I am sure he had a smile on his lips when he found out for certain that he was finally going to meet his Maker.
I remember sitting at the dining table with him when he said to me, "Who doesn't want to live? I still want to live. But if I die now, I would consider death the greatest blessing from God."
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