MikeLigalig.com

YOU WALK YOUR LAST: TRIBUTE TO NONG FLOR EVASCO
BY LUCELL LARAWAN

You walk your last. Your last.
News spread on the wings of the wind, a reluctant wind I did
       not expect.
Your morning walk has ended. Finally ended.
I say this because I spent routine walks with you
At the Plaza Rizal and the City Hall.
I will no longer walk with you there
And we, your physically active friends, now await you there
Yet blinded by your stark absence.
Suddenly, my world turns somber, skies leaden.
In my journeys, I will no longer see your visage radiating
       with goodness and care.
I will miss your usual retort, “Good morning, Doy”
Every time I greeted you with joggers and walkers passing by.
I will miss your counsels that brightens my valleys
As I shared my alienation and attempt to connect with my tribe.
You asked me to come and see your farm in San Miguel
        and Catigbian
Perhaps because you wanted to breathe the smell of rice fields
        and trees.
One day, you could not fill up the certificate of candidacy
        as provincial councilor
So you asked me to do it for you and I gladly do it.
You may have backed out from that plan, but even
        without  becoming that leader
You are already a Hall of Fame in our hearts.
You drafted a letter so you can work as a consultant of the
        new governor.
Yet God has other plans.
Months ago, you lost weight and asked me to lunch out at the
    Tuslob-Buwa restaurant.
Did you do it to show me how your health had declined and
         said it was allergy?
If I knew it was our last dine out, I could have told you the
         worst thing that can happen
Is paradise for us who believe in the Lord’s redemption. 
Your morning walk has ended.
Not only in the usual Plaza Rizal and the City Hall
But in every landscape where we wish you are around.
Your family and friends are speechless in disbelief
At the banging of that final door through which no pilgrim
        or morning walker returns.
I send my soul to teachers, principals and your fellow
        district supervisors
As they reflect upon their Cornelius in the book of Acts
Whom an angel said his prayers and gifts to the poor have
        come up to God.
To us you are not just Cornelius; you are sheep whom the Lord
         will say,
“Come… inherit the kingdom. For I was hungry, and you fed me…”
You walk your last. Your last.
Your day is done; we confess it in teary voices and say thank you
Thank you for illuminating our lives.
Thank you for your fatherly counsels and encouragement.
Thank you our Cornelius, thank you our heaven-sent cheerful giver.
We sculpt your portrait in our hearts.

Get FREE 1024GB of cloud storage at www.terabox.com



Linkback: https://tubagbohol.mikeligalig.com/index.php?topic=123357.0