PLEASE allow me to deviate from my usual commentaries and discussions about current issues. I want to use this opportunity to pay homage to my younger brother, David Santos. He died unexpectedly on Saturday, September 28, at the young age of 44.
I just came back from a short trip to Manila, to say goodbye to my brother and to see him for the last time.
I also had to be with my parents and my siblings so we could all pray together and draw strength from one another, as we mourn together as a family.
Just before he hit his teenage years, David began his struggle with muscular dystrophy — a genetic disease characterized by progressive weakness and the degeneration of the skeletal muscles that control movement.
This could have triggered the problem of irregular rhythm of his weakening heart muscles, which eventually lead to his demise.
Young David was different. He was a cute, healthy and energetic baby and little boy.
However, when he turned nine or ten, his grade school teacher observed that he had increasingly been more lethargic over time. He would tire more easily and would move slower than boys his age.
Over time, his round face became longer and thin. His eyelids drooped to the point that he could only open his eyes halfway. His speech also became slurred and could hardly be understood.
When he was in his late thirties (and all the more in his forties) he complained about weakness of his hands, grip, face, arms, shoulders and legs.
He would always feel sluggish and sleepy, and had a hard time keeping his balance. He also had difficulty breathing and swallowing.
We had distant relatives who had the same symptoms, which prompted my parents to have him tested by specialists.
They confirmed that he was indeed afflicted by muscular dystrophy. Doctors also warned that depending on the gravity and speed of his muscle degeneration, his heart and lungs could be affected, and his life span would be relatively shorter than those without this disease.
Despite the challenges he faced since childhood, my brother never complained nor retreated. He even finished his college degree and had a committed relationship. He was also never bitter — his faith in God remained unshaken.
Despite his condition, he never invited pity. Instead, he chose to shower us all with love.
He never had children of his own but he took care of and doted on his nephews and nieces.
He would babysit them, walk them to school and would patiently lend his ears to their teenage rant and angst.
He always found good in everyone, even when he would be sometimes misunderstood because of his condition.
He was also very easy to please. He would show gratitude and appreciation for even the smallest act of kindness and generosity he received.
He never complained, he was busy counting his blessings.
He told my parents one condition, though. He said if something would happen to him, he wanted Mom and Dad to promise that they would not prolong his agony.
He wrote an advance directive stating NO machine nor life support system for him. He also wished he would go quickly, hopefully in his sleep.
When I greeted him happy birthday over the phone, he told me: “Tanggap ko na. Handa na ako.”
On September 28, while nursing a fever, David requested for a bowl of pancit canton for breakfast as he was surfing the internet in the second floor family room.
Everybody was downstairs, when suddenly, they heard a loud gasping sound from where David was.
They rushed to him and found him with his head on the computer table, face down.
They tried to wake him up him but he was unresponsive. He was rushed to the nearby Heart Center of the Philippines.
When they got to the hospital, doctors tried to revive him, but he was already gone.
I was fortunate to be able to fly back to the Philippines to attend his wake , pray with my family and bid him goodbye. We had him cremated.
At that time, I could not help but commiserate with many of our kababayans who are experiencing a similar situation.
How many of them wanted to go but did not have the resources to go back to the Philippines to see their loved ones for the last time?
How many of them desperately wanted to go home to ailing parents, siblings or to children who died, but couldn’t, because they had no legal papers that would spare them for deportation or would stop them from being barred from re-entering the United States?
How did they feel when their own personal circumstances prevented them from going home and taking the risk, because they still needed the job they have in the US to provide for the needs of their family?
How did they come to terms with the fact that they would never see their departed family member ever again?
It does not matter how you got in that situation, I just hope and pray you would someday find closure and healing in your heart.
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Gel Santos Relos is the anchor of TFC’s “Balitang America.” Views and opinions expressed by the author in this column are are solely those of the author and not of Asian Journal and ABS-CBN-TFC. For comments, go to www.TheFil-AmPerspective.com, https://www.facebook.com/Gel.Santos.Relos
