kapag umuwi nang lahat ng mga kaibigan mo at ikaw na lang mag-isa, doon lumalabas ang mga demonyo.

I returned home to find a little peace — not to forget about losing my wife, but to find solace in memories that no longer bring constant tears.

For me, it means indulging in the food we loved and being surrounded by family and friends who genuinely care and support me, rather than just being curious about the misery of my newfound solitude.

Sinita ako ng TSA dito sa DFW airport. May nakita kasi sila sa X-ray kaya binuksan nila ang carry-on bag ko.

“I’m sorry for your loss” ang bati sa akin ng officer habang sinasara ang bag ko, pagkatapos ng inspection.

“Thank you, I’m taking my wife home” – sabay iwas tingin dahil malapit na akong maiyak.

Small human gestures from total strangers touch me the most.

Napipikon ako pag may nagtatanong kung kailan ang memorial ni Jet at disappointed sila pag sinabi kong sa Maynila gagawin at sa Enero, dahil hindi sila available.

Para naman kasing umiikot ang mundo sa kanila at kailangan kong palitan ang schedule ng memorial ng asawa ko para sa kanila.

Birthday ni Jet sa January. Angkop lang na sa petsang ito gagawin at sa lugar na kanyang pinakamamahal.

the business of death is difficult. you close your spouse’s accounts, pay her bills, cancel subscriptions, talk to insurance providers, and arrange funerals. all the while you’re doing this, you are grieving and every mention of her name breaks your heart.

When in sorrow, turn to a Beatles song.

Eleanor Rigby
Waits at the window
Wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door

In my deepest grief I put on a mask.

I eat alone now and it fucking sucks.

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

It’s been a struggle. I thought it’d be easier because I’ve been bracing for my wife’s death since her cancer diagnosis last year.

When it came though, it came with a fury and with such fucking forceful torment that it knocked me off my feet. I can still function, joke around and somehow show a semblance of normalcy but inside me is a deep, dark, and agonizing pain.

You go to your favorite local donut store and the owner asks how your wife is doing. You smile, say she just passed away, and try not to cry.

Who cries at a donut store? Kids who didn’t get their bavarian delight and grown men who’ve lost their wives.