My dear son Lucas,
When you drifted away from this mortal coil, you took what was left of my old soul with you. I have no soul now, but you gifted me with a renewed, a better and stronger spirit. I knew that Nature is wise, but I did not quite understand it. Now I do: we are supposed to bury our parents, not the other way around.
I saw you
finally this morning at the funeral home before your cremation. I really wanted to see you because I did not
have the opportunity to do it when you departed so suddenly from my life. That bothered me more than you can
imagine. You were cold to the touch of
my lips, but I felt the commanding warmth of your enormous soul. You looked so peaceful and beautiful. Your peace and beauty were so immensely
powerful, that you bestowed it on me.
With your
peace in my heart now and for the first time since you left, I was able to see
the world around me with less tears, and I was able to speak again without
breaking down so many times. This
morning you silently gave me back a bit of my life from that great piece that was
gone with you. That huge piece of life
your departure ripped off so brutally from my chest. Thank you, Lucas Martino.
I kissed
you so many times before and I am glad I did it so often, I told you "I love you" so many times before,
and I am glad I did it so often. This
morning I told you again that I love you, and I kissed you good-bye one last
time. All of the sudden, my entire
existence took a break from the horrible pandemonium I was living through, and
your powerful peace settled softly in my aching heart. I cannot tell how deep my wound is or how
profound my sorrow is; but I know that they will stay with me until the day I
die.
I learned so
many new words with you. Once you said
the word "noob", and I asked you, "What noob means?" You looked at me with that humongous smile of
yours and told me laughing: "You
are a noob, dad!", and we both laugh hard and long. That was so funny, however, I still do not
know what the heck a "noob" is...
but that was just "so Lucas".
I remember
when you were just 7 years old and we were in Yucatán, Mexico. We were in Mérida doing some souvenir
shopping, and your mother, your older brother and your sister went one way, and
you and I went in another direction.
When we were walking on the street, you saw an old man seating on the
sidewalk. The man was blind and we could
see the cavities of his absent eyes. A
little girl was with him, and you asked:
- Dad, why this man is here?
- Because he is blind and cannot work, so he is asking for
alms. – I responded
- Why the girl is here and not in the school? – He inquired
serious.
- Perhaps because the man needs someone to help him... – was my guessing answer.
Lucas
stared at the couple for a few seconds and asked me again:
- Dad, can I give the man some money?
- Sure thing. – I responded.
Lucas
grabbed a $10 (pesos – about a dollar) coin from his little pocket, and handed
it to the man who thanked him. After
that, Lucas asked me to take him around to find more people who need
money. He made me walk countless blocks
until we found nine other needy humans who needed a hand, and Lucas could give
him a coin.
When Lucas
gave his last coin, his face illuminated with his amazing and characteristic
smile. He was so unbelievable happy. When I told him that I would give him another
100 pesos so he could buy something for himself, he did not accept. He was too happy to spoil his ecstasy by buying
anything for himself. I learned a huge and
deep lesson that day from young Lucas.
That was
Lucas then, and still was until the minute he left this mortal coil.
Lucas Martino, my beloved son; I will always remember you
with a sincere smile through my burning tears.
--Your father.