About year ago, I was invited to attend my MTh graduation in South Africa. I missed that chance because I had to present my paper here at the Royal University of Phnom Penh. A month ago I heard that my friend, Fr. Oscar Zamora, died of heart failure at the novitiate house IN South Africa.
Oscar was the one who fetched me from the airport when I first arrived here...
Strange but I was assigned in Tondo when he had left the place. I went to PNG after he left it also. He invited me to Cambodia but left soon after he got me in. So where is he telling me to go to next?
Thinking of death always gives me the chills. I always get bogged down whenever I start to think of my own. All the things I believe in come to be questioned. Is there really this or that? And what happens next? Will it be painful? How long does it take to make that crossing? Where to... next? This kinds of paralyzes me.
Of course, whether I like it or not: Death is inevitable.
But then I still have that choice. Will I just wait for it sitting down, or will I just let it try to catch up with me?
Believing there's life after it certainly gives purpose to living life here.