The only true painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained.
I stood there glancing at everyone’s face trying to recognize which amongst them are my cousins. I’m not really close to them, perhaps because of age gap (I’m the youngest from my father side), or maybe because we seldom meet. Their children, my nephews and nieces, were also there but only some of them recognized me I think. It seems only yesterday when they are so little, carefree, vulnerable. I remember when we were just kids; they would come home to Pampanga every vacation. My memory of them is only filled with happy moments (that is mainly because we only play and play).
Yeah, it seems like yesterday when I was so fond of this cute little boy’s dimples. It was more than ten years that I last saw him together with my other nephews and nieces, too sad it was then we reunited at the death of my uncle, their grandfather. I was surprised seeing him so big (and, I really mean BIG.) But I heard they grew up responsible. I admire their happy disposition in life, helping their mother with their livelihood. But we never really had the chance to talk.
And it will never be. My cousin, his mother, narrated what happened but I could barely hear her because of the noise coming from jeepneys and tricycles. One of my pretty nieces couldn’t stop from crying, her eyes were already turned red. His elder sister stood all the time in front of him where he lied. I looked at his picture wherein he was so happy and “astig-looking”. I’m teary-eyed but not a single tear fell from my eyes, the situation just wouldn’t sink into me. He’s just so young and I’m sure he has a lot of dreams for his family. I couldn’t believe that he’s already gone.
Goodbyes are the saddest fact of life – break-ups, migration, and death. And what could be more painful for a mother losing her child for the rest of her life?
I could only offer prayers for Rap’s family. Someday, we will all see each other again in heaven.

Rap (second from left), with his cousins.