Living... Leaving...

Yesterday was a special day for all my friends in Cebu. There was feasting celebrating the birthday of Freddie, but not only... thanking him for the life he has generated in many hearts who came to meet the Ideal all these years. The night was also a moment of telling Freddie "goodbye"...

Someone more creative than the rest of the group expressed through a poem, a witty way of putting into words, the common thoughts and feelings of all, I am posting it here:

Living / Leaving
for Freddie

It’s fascinating how the words living
and leaving almost sound the same.
Living, leaving.
But then, of course, if you listen
closely, you’d know the difference.
Leaving, living.

When you utter the word living –
by which you mean lifelike
or the experience of being alive
or simply pertaining to living,
breathing persons as opposed
to those who are six feet underground –
the word entails a string of meanings
but the delivery is quick as a heartbeat,
the pulse on one’s wrist.
Short just as how most people deem life to be:
Quick, short.
Living.

On the other hand, when you say leaving –-
by which you mean only one thing:
departure, the act of departing --
the first part is prolonged, it lingers
as if the tongue is unwilling
to let go of a word like goodbye.
Slow, reluctant.
So much like how the one leaving
and those about to be left behind
would tend to stretch that final moment.
Leaving.
At first, I thought what is that word
that would shape you out of the silence
that your leaving would create.

Bigger than life as you are, what part
of you would linger like a word
the tongue is hesitant to let loose?
That was at first, for suddenly it dawned on me
that it is not your leaving that matters, but your living,
the kind of life that you have.

That is what we are celebrating.
Because life may be short, letting go
too long, and people may come
and leave anytime, but what you are
while you are here could mean
the world to those you are living with,
to those you may leave behind.


Jay Gallera Malaga