multi-masking

Just got back from Loyola Memorial in Sucat, where Joye and I kept our friend Lorie company for a few hours. Her dad died yesterday morning of cardiac arrest. The viewing wouldn’t be until Tuesday night because the casket was being specially made to fit her dad’s frame, but the Victoria family was allowed to stay in the memorial chapel to be able to touch base with the coordinator and the embalming team.

Lorie’s the tough one in her family — she hates mushy stuff, and during the year or so that Joye and I have been friends with her, we rarely see her cry. Getting emotional for Lorie is getting angry. She’s the type who will get mad at her family after they wake her up for a birthday surprise. We’ve never seen her at her weakest, until now.

And somehow, it all clicked. She’s breaking down with her dad’s passing, but she’s still able to handle urgent matters. And it works, especially now that her mom and her sister are both emotionally unstable. I admire her for being able to hide her mourning from them, especially now that she has to be the source of strength and logic for her family. Last night/early this morning, we were able to make her laugh a few times, but she would still have her crying episodes.

Lorie, I know it’s hard, and for sure, it’s going to get tougher as time goes by. You know Joye and I are just here for you. We love you. Be strong — for your mom, for your sister, for Samantha. I’m sure with the way you’re handling things, your dad’s proud of you, and he’s already assured that you guys would manage somehow, even without him.

You said your dad was smiling after all that rigor mortis phenomenon; I’m sure right now, he’s peacefully resting his mind, body, heart, and soul. He loves you so much that he’ll be watching over your household. Show him that he made the right decision, that his timing isn’t at all bad. And then he can continue to rest in peace.