My [sentimental]Farewell Speech

Today is my last day here at MCA. Naturally, goodbyes are in order. Im not one of those I-hate-goodbyes kind of person. Partings to me are somewhat relative: while some people or situations can be difficult to let go, others can be such a relief to get rid of. But this one, Im finding hard going through. I guess its true all around that when people touch your life, it’s like you are branded by that touch for life, too.


 How is it, I wonder, that a handful of people whom I have spent just less than a couple of years with, become so special to me that the thought of not seeing them again breaks my heart? But then again, it’s not perhaps, a mystery after all, for there is a lot of LOVE and RESPECT between us. There is AFFECTION and FONDNESS, and ACCEPTANCE and CONCERN. There is GENUINE FRIENDSHIP and UNITY and LOYALTY. There is a lot of PRAYER and WISDOM shared over DEVOTIONALS and Bible Study; tear-inducing and rib-cracking FUNNY STORIES over ordinary lunches and special dinners. There were endless PICTURE-TAKINGS and FB postings and posings, HUNDREDS of SMS and CHAT MESSAGES and FRANTIC calls, name-calling and bottomless SMILES and good mornings, MAKE-UP and HAIR STRAIGHTENERS, more make-up and take-outs…

ImageI don’t remember having so much fun than spending time with them, listening to their wonderful and amazing life stories, to their ridiculous and outrageous jokes and friendly banters and teasing, to their daily complaints and grumbles, to their laughters, to their dreams. Within the small and dusty and littered four walls of our little universe we created a bond, fleeting yet strong and so extraordinarily exclusive.

And too, there was a lot of PAIN; there was HUMILIATION; seemingly INSURMOUNTABLE ODDS, elusive TIME-TABLES and loathesome DEADLINES; there were DISAPPOINTMENTS and FAILURES and TRAGEDIES. And I wonder still, because I’d FORGOTTEN what all those felt, and what they were, like. Because all that I remember are the happy times, the feeling of belongingness, the sense of being HOME. Do I suffer from selective memory retention then? Perhaps.

And perhaps I may not truly capture the essence of this togetherness, what with this meager space and limited vocabulary. But one thing I am sure of: within this short, passing instance, I have held something essential in my hand; and, though this time will long past slide from my fingers like sand, I can look back at this moment and the memory will lift me up as the wings of those beautiful songs we have sung together, never failed to do.

Photos courtesy of Mishele and Arc y


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