Godspeed

What do you do when someone leaves?

When one moment, she was there, and the other, gone?

When all you feel is a sharp pain, knowing there is nothing you can do to make it go away, and at the same time, knowing you don't want it to go away because it is an inward proof of a friendship, of a connection between two people, a line that not even death can cut.

What do you do when someone leaves on a journey you can't follow, on a road you can't walk?

You remember.

You remember the first time, and every subsequent time you've seen her, and how she will never fail to greet you with a cheerful "Hey, man!"

You remember how she loved singing and playing her tiny guitar, and how we played Sempurna during one of the builds while becoming a buffet table for mosquitoes.

You remember how small she was in person, how big her character, how large her presence and how enormous her spirit.

I remember how welcoming she was, how she always seemed like an older sister, how she had a funny cadence in her speech, just because she was from out of town. How she was so full of laughter and energy and enthusiasm and how I wish I had been there to celebrate your last birthday and how you hit all those nails with a hammer that was the length of your arm and how you absolutely have no shame when describing the idiosyncrasies of your body. And how I just want to tell you what a great impact you have made in my life.

Relationships form when some part of the other becomes a part of you. The bond that tie friends together is a line so strong that it transcends life. It goes beyond death.

And even now, in your absence, it is real and permanent, and that is what I will take away from our short walk together, a walk filled with laughter, joy, sweat, late nights, and above all, Life.

You will be missed, but you will never be forgotten. You will live on in the many lives you've touched.

Godspeed, Anny. It's time to build some castles in the sky.