Aww, was brought to tears when I read Tupe’s open letter to me in his blog.
Tupe was a college classmate whom I called Kuya (big brother) just because he was born a year ahead of our batch. He gamely allowed me to and called me his little sister. In many ways, he did seem like a real big brother to me. He was protective (disapproved of my choice of “brother-in-law” for him), and he introduced me to the good literary stuff.
I remember how years ago, for my birthday, he gave me a short story he wrote, sharing it only with me because he knew that I was a fellow writer. But I’m nowhere near the genius that he is. You should read his blog’s prologue and see if you don’t get a nosebleed. His letter below is quite easy to follow though, yet it touched my heart to its very core. I miss you, Kuya. Thanks!
An Open Letter to Heids on her Birthday
More than a year ago, Maya asked me to write something for your despedida. You were due to fly to Singapore during that time and I think they were preparing something for a send-off. When she told me that, what immediately came to mind was that day in May 2003 when you and Gay and Zenie (I can’t recall the others who were there too) were off to Manila. I came to wish you good luck. Although feeling a bit left out, I felt happy that you were chasing close that dream of becoming a CPA. In the letter, I wanted to tell you how proud I am (in a way a Kuya does when his little sister does something great) for your successes, that I wish you find housemates like you had in Makati, and that everything will be okay. I apologize that the letter has never been written, but those well-wishes were silently embedded in my prayers.
Now, although ‘uncertified’ (your own word), I know what you have gone through and where you are right now are things that many could only hope for. (Sometimes, when things are not okay in the office, I envy you but I realize we have to be somewhere at some point in time). No need to tell you how proud I am of the things that you have now, you already know that and I don’t want you to be sappy on your day, but I’m feeling a little nostalgic here and wish to do a little reminiscing (I wish we could pass a hand-made card around – you did it first in class – but I guess it will be too late now to pass it all around Asia and UK to make it on your day).
Along with the other four ‘huggables’ (I don’t know if you still feel like being called as such, hehe), I want to thank you for making college quite a breeze through on many times. Many of those who had the chance to know you can attest how great a friend you can be. I remember now how you and Lynette conspired so I can attend that last acquaintance party. Similar instances will follow and you came out of you way to make things a little lighter. I know those who are with you now have similar stories to tell.
We were together a little over four years and it’s always great to have you and your ideas of fun around. You made plans for most of our Christmas parties during and after college. The Valentine’s exchange-gifts was your brainchild too. Although we celebrate these occasions differently now (we say were already grown-ups – admit it!), it’s fun to look back on these things and feel giddy once more. I still smile when I think of RVY (saging rebosado and siopao on isaw sauce), tempura off the grade school gate, from satti breakfasts in the canteen to lunches at Roebucks (sounds classy but all we ordered there was ginataang gulay, nutritious and cheap) from speech choir practices to group studies (kuno!). Yes, even those Jesuit tortures (other word for tutelage) and the Pena quandary (you know the story) had their fun segments too (I couldn’t figure how I looked when I cried on the floor, I think that was the funny part). I can only imagine how it is for those who have known you longer than four years.
I am not exaggerating when I tell you that you are one creative brain. I easily got Austine’s point when he calls you ‘mother brain’. You are pregnant with ideas and you can immediately put something into writing; if you cannot put it writing, it can surely make its way out of your mouth. I appreciate your collection of axioms and aphorisms (even from movies and telenovelas too. But I know this one’s your favorite – “The youth is the hope of the fatherland. Plant trees!)
I wish to share these untold stories too, some bits that I am personally thankful for (more of a confession actually, a major turn-off for a prospect whose skimming through out there):
You taught me first how to use the internet. Remember Netzilla where you assisted me in signing up for my first e-mail account (that was Mailcity which later became Lycos. I think Gay or Zenie was also there). I know you were holding back your hoot when I couldn’t point the cursor to one tab (by then I knew that when you said I raise my ‘mouse’, it didn’t mean I lift that object which looked more like Palmolive soap bar than a rodent but position that arrow to that button). You never knew that I sweated all over until we hit ‘sign-up successful’.
You also introduced me to social networking (ha? Wla ka pang Friendster?). I know I was the pinnacle of cyber-monggoness* so, thank you for clicking me to cyber-existence (checken counter couldn’t have been born too).
Bitaw, thanks for believing in the illusion that I could write (I still think that that is just an illusion). I don’t know, but you have your way of making people feel good about something that they wanted to do and pushing people to strut their stuff merely by doing yours.
You said that you’re thankful our paths have crossed; I know I should be saying that. But if you insist, cge, pagbibigyan kita. It’s your birthday anyway.
I wish you all the best that are yet to come and the best boyfriend a girl like you deserves (is he ‘yet to come too’? wla n man ko balita about ana). I’m writing this because I cannot sing you your birthday song. And you know how I sing – poetically.
Happy 30th birthday Deedee! 😀
(I will no longer call you ‘kachoks’ – that sounds jologs and obsolete now, improper for the cosmo woman that you have become. And I bet, you’re already speaking ‘ni hao’).
* monggoness – is a certain state of idiocy (from the root word ‘mongo’). I heard this first from Chu, who by the way, Heids calls her immortal chuvanescense. Whatever that meant, only them both know. I wish to thank Chu for this word though. Such a lexicograhical breakthrough.
For the record, by the way, I’m only 27!