Yesterday was Easter Sunday, but instead of going to the malls as we usually do and hunting easter eggs (yeah, they still have those events annually, maybe because families like us enjoy them), we went to the wake of someone we consider as our second father in our primary school.

It was last Wednesday night when a friend called me up as I was on my way home, she was crying. I can barely understand her when she broke the bad news: our beloved mentor already passed away. Still not convinced, I tried to text and call anyone who could give me us confirmation.

That morning, Sir was brought to the hospital. He felt constant pain in his stomach, but it was the first time that he was admitted. It was not long after he was declared...

He was one of the best teachers in our elementary school. No, maybe one of the best in our town (he also teaches in a community college). He taught us not only the lessons from our books, but also those that can be used in our daily lives. He liked to talk, in between classes and during breaks, he would approach a group of students and speak about anything under the sun. He would then give us pieces of advice, those that we often ignore and laugh at, maybe because we are just kids then.

For 12 years or so, I saw some of my classmates' faces again, some of them I could not remember clearly. For 12 years or so, I saw his face again. He's a little thinner than what I can remember of him. He wanted to have a reunion last year, but individual schedules wouldn't allow it to happen. He was enthusiastic about that event. Now his class, we, are reunited, but he's not there to join us. Our regrets would not bring anything back. I too, could not think of any more excuses.

He may be far, but the teachings that he left will always remain with us. With those, he will always be alive for us. I guess what he only needs to hear from us is a little "Thank You, Sir!"