“They say that someone is never truly gone until you stop remembering them.
I think there is truth in this.
When you left this earth, a great part of me went missing.
But I think you left some part of yourself for me to find.
When you left this earth, I gathered your things and held them close.
I closed my eyes and for a moment, it felt like you were here with me again.
When you left this earth, I went through my pictures.
I studied your face harder than I ever have.
And for a moment, those pictures brought you to life once more.
When you left this earth, I found as many reasons as I could to talk about you.
I tell stories about you. And for a moment, we are living in those memories again. Everyday, I find as many reasons as I can to remember you.
I find as many reasons as I can to not let the rest of you leave this earth.
And every day it brings me peace.
To know that as long as I remember you, a part of you will always be here.”
Anonymous
Many a time we’ve passed through memorial parks teeming with visitors on Valentine’s Day. Families from all walks of life having their day in the sun, with mats neatly laid down in the grass and picnic baskets lying all around as the children frolic nearby. I imagine all the departed souls there are happy on this day and beaming with satisfaction.
On the street and in shopping malls, it’s common to see teens carrying bunched-up flowers (roses mostly), as young men hurrying up to meet their dates hold these ever so delicately while young ladies who have already gotten theirs, cradle the flowers proudly as though they were infants. Old people can only sigh, ah young love.
Restaurants and other food establishments will be full on this, the year’s heart day. If one is lucky, you might even spy countless bouquets of all sizes propped up on extra chairs, as though they were trophies displayed for all to see. We smile as we say, at no other time are these dining places doubling up as flower shops. Perhaps, the same is so during graduation day, but nothing compares to V-Day.
At a nearby table, seniors having coffee are having a field day. One is humming ‘those were the days my friend’ with a much louder addition of ‘we thought they’d never end.’ And others laugh heartily at their own predicament. One elderly widow laments that he never brings me flowers anymore. And with a wry smile quips, in fact, I’m the one who now bring flowers every Sunday. At that, every Sunday might as well be Valentine’s Day.
