Last night, my nephew, the son of Oscar, my late brother asked me if I knew the notes of his dad’s award winning composition Pangarap ng Musmos (Dream of the Youth) which was played over 30 years ago in an Ateneo College Music Festival. I told him I didn’t have it but if he can hear the notes, it is easy to take it down. Honestly, I haven’t heard my brother’s composition for a long time now and decided to turn it on again. As I listened to “Pangarap ng Musmos”, the tears just rolled down my cheeks as the lilting music streamed through my bedroom. As I watched a video of my brother playing Love Story on the piano, the more I sobbed. What irony! He was dying of leukemia as he played the melody.
I missed my brother so much and listening to his music made me feel he was right there in the room, playing it for me. The heartfelt passion as he played every note in the piano moved me so much. I also missed my other brother Reuben and my dad and mom. I counted 4 deaths in my family of origin. not counting my own son. Five deaths in my immediate family.
It is easy to count what we do not have.
I cannot ignore fleeting moments of nostalgia. In my sadness, I assessed what I had. I counted my blessings.