Sunday Lifestyle

In too steep


I steep well. If I were tea leaves I would be of the premium kind, but as a person it is not always a good thing. Naturally, when it involves a happy circumstance it works very well to my advantage. A simple joy, when remembered at will or by chance, can and will plunge me into happiness so palpable I would almost forget it is something that has already passed. And the feeling can last a fairly long time, too. Simply put, revisiting a joy and feeling it all over again as if it was happening for the very first time is a talent I have. Some of my friends envy me for that.

Unfortunately, for me, sad moments do come by and my steeping talent is one I cannot just switch off. I have a tendency to dwell on the situation, wallow in it, getting to know it in ways I do not wish to but cannot stop myself from. And so I catch myself sighing here and there, making the kind of quiet noise sad people make.

Last month, I lost another friend. He was also our manager but he was more like a friend — fatherly and sturdy, a reliable and constant presence. Nothing quite prepares you for the sadness that someone’s passing brings. Time stops, even if you don’t wish it to, and everything — well, almost everything just gets coated in some misty cloud that reminds me of lonely postcards that never get sent, long highways and very cold, very rainy days. Like broken toys and abandoned ancestral homes, there is something about it that tugs at the heart painfully. Life seems hushed, its harsh realities staring you in your face even if you are not ready to take them on just yet, yet again. 

In the end, no matter how big you are, literally and figuratively, you can fit in a little metal box the good wishes and the memories you have left behind with others sending you off into the happy beyond where everything can finally be perfect. It is a thought that never fails to soothe or numb the longing somehow.

Tito Wyngard, thank you. I will miss you very much. Our time together was much too short but I thank God for that just the same. It is still far better than not having known you at all. Thank you for the note you sent, the pile of books you gave me for my birthday, the lotion you always brought me from your trips abroad. Richard and me, and especially Juliana, will miss very much the Kobe beef you always shared with us. 

Thank you for the accessories that remind me of disco balls and disco days and the beautiful gray skirt you surprised me with for no occasion at all. Thank you for always making me laugh. The kind of laugh they say proper ladies should never make. Thank you for the wisdom. You had a way of looking at (and making others see) even the most muddled of situations with clarity. It is a gift not everyone has. 

Thank you. Goodbye. You will be missed. Allow me to steep in the feelings your passing has brought just a little bit more. One day, I know it will be easier on the heart for all of us you left behind, even if I will be quick to admit it isn’t so just yet. In time it will be. 

It is December already, Tito Wyn. I must remember that life is still good. Better days will be here.   











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