The last thing I saw on my feed before I fell asleep last night was the news that Sir Terry Pratchett has died. Death is inevitable of course, but I couldn't help but feel affected when it happens to people who I may not know personally, but whose life touched me in any way. This one hit a little closer to home because Good Omens, the book he co-wrote with Neil Gaiman, is one of my favorite books of all time.
|My dog-eared and yellowed paperback copy of Good Omens|
Having read this for at least three times now even though I have a long list of to-be-read books is a testament to how much I loved it
I loved the angel Aziraphale and devil Crowley almost obsessively that I even named my pet fishes after them. Wherever they are now, I pray they're okay. ♡
PTerry had Alzheimer's disease. Personally, I feel it is one of the cruelest illnesses a person could have because it robs you of your memories. It may sound selfish and vain, but one of my greatest fears is to be forgotten; losing my memories is another. So, even though Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is my ultimate favorite movie, I don't think I will be approaching a real-life Lacuna Inc. with a ten-foot pole in the event having your memories erased becomes a possibility in the future. I'm not sure if news reports can be believed, but they all said Terry hated being sick and it's easy to understand why, so while it is sad that he has passed, it's also comforting to know he's no longer suffering. Thank you for the wonderful worlds you dreamed of and shared with us, Sir Terry.
The other day, I got into An Elevator Incident at my office building. When the elevator doors closed, there was a loud thud and I felt the carriage dropped at least one foot and then stopped moving. I was alone. I could barely breathe, scared that the slightest movement would set it off dropping nine storeys down. I rang the alarm and tried to open the door to no avail. After about six to eight seconds that felt like forever, with me telling myself I don't want to die yet, it started its slow descent once again. The guard was waiting for me at the lobby to check why I rang the alarm so I reported what happened. Three blocks later, I was still shaking. I was still rattled when the van I ride to go home left Makati.
We can never tell when it's our time to go; no one expected my Kuya to pass away so early. We can only make the most out of the short time we are given. I intend to learn, experience, and love as much as I can, and I think that's the best anyone could hope for.
|Tree beside my Kuya's grave|