Letter to Rocco Part 2

Dear Rocco, this is what I'd like to tell you when we meet again.

Its almost three years now without you around. Our families has since then grown distant. I'm starting to think you were the key ingredient keeping our families together. Anyways, your name-sake Tristan Rocco is doing very well. He is very intelligent and smart, even though he has not started speaking yet, he can listen and obey very well. I have since moved out of our house and I am renting a smaller house for myself, Stella, Tristan and his sitter. Stella and I have since begun taking steps to reaching our spiritual goals and are now committed to raising our son in the Truth. In 2020, days before Tristan was born, I bought a small Toyota Camry 2.4 sedan that helped us moved to and from until it started giving us major mechanical issues in October - November 2021. I decided to sell the car. I bought a slightly bigger short wheel based station wagon - a Nissan X-Trail T30 to help us move around more efficiently on rougher roads if we decide to go our of the city on weekends. All these reminded me of how we planned to buy a car and drive around in the city, well I'm glad I've achieved this on behalf of both of us! I only wish you were here to share the fun.


Three of us at the beach

It probably has over been a year since I've written the part above, but it was in my drafts until now. Looking back, life has never been the same without you, we all miss you and we are hoping we'd see you again with the promise of resurrection as at Acts 24:15.

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Letter to Rocco Part 1

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Happier times  Bata bata, Its been almost three months. Still every time I think about writing a piece, that feeling of tightness in my throat and numbness fills my body. No one will ever replace you bata. I feel like you did not deserve this end. This should not have been the end of you. Although we may have drifted apart, we were always close in heart. Even if we've never talked, we know deep down we will be there for each other. Three months has gone, nothing much have changed. I still lived in the same house we picked. I speak of you as you've left for work and did not return. In my mind, you will still return home in the afternoon, with you bilum on your side, jeans, a formal shirt and that smile with a joke ready to come out of it. "Mrow!", you would call out. I would joke about your night shift comparing it to catching flying foxes. "Yu kism sampla too or nogat?". Sometimes you'd say "Noad ya, ol 'khombi' les lo pas lo net." ...
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