As i go through my fellow blogmates' entries this week, i stumbled upon hers. I already know how she writes, and have been enthralled by her excellent style. I knew that her current entry wasn't about her or her friends and their love stories. I felt something was different.
I have not had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Neri. I am sure her demise was a great loss to the Cebuanos and all of the people who met her or read her work. From what I have read from other websites, Mrs. Neri was a splendid writer and poet, aside from being pretty and young.
This gave me a sinking thought... all of these people... they wrote beautiful tributes for her. When I die, will there be someone who will take time off to remember, and write something about me? Have I been influential enough? Helpful enough? Strong enough?
Will there be lots of people at my wake, crying and looking at my coffin where i lay so soundly asleep? Will the heavens carefully darken when i finally be laid to rest? Will butterflies flutter about and kiss the shoulders of gloom-stricken fellows surrounding my grave?
After I have had my silence, will my kids be alone in the quest of finding me in the dark? Will their dreams be shattered? Will they hate me for leaving?
These are my questions. These are my fears.
I know of my importance to my friends and family. I, who have mothered three wonderful children. I, who have been a daughter, a sister, and a friend. Though not perfect, I existed.
Death, I fear not. It's leaving everyone behind that petrifies me.