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It’s hard to believe that two years ago today my brother Oliver passed away at the age of 28. I had been home only a week after graduating college and going on a retreat. Yet I felt lucky to come home to the fragile and frail arms of my older brother Oliver. The arms that used to punish and hurt me as we fought growing up were thin and weak. I gave him a hug gingerly, not wanting to hurt him. I wish he could have been able to fly to California for my commencement like he was planning on before, but it was impossible because of his weakness.

Oliver and I on a bench in Mexico during a family Caribbean cruise, only weeks before his diagnosis. Apparently I was saying something pretty funny or pretty stupid since he’s laughing.

During the last week of his life I remember a few moments very vividly. On the Sunday after I got back there was a blockage in one of his fluid tubes, and he wasn’t able to get hydrated for a few minutes. All of a sudden, he fell unconscious and unresponsive. We kept trying to wake him up, but he wouldn’t wake up. My mom was freaking out, which scared me, since she had always been with him and knew what was normal and what wasn’t. I mean, we all knew that this could be it, and that it was his time very soon, but I guess once it gets to that moment you don’t want to let go. My aunt Edith was visiting us from the Philippines where she is a pastor there. She’s told me about performing miracles and healing people but I was very skeptical (Yeah, I know, you think I should believe my own aunt, but it was hard). She starts praying for him, calling on the power of Jesus Christ and yelling at Satan to get out. Weird noises and ululations spring from her mouth and later I understand that to be the language of tongues (which also weirded me out back then and admittedly a little now, too). Pretty soon after her intense prayer, we see that the hydration tube is dripping again and the blockage is unclogged. Moments afterward, Oliver wakes up. We are all relieved and so happy. Was it truly a miracle? A result of the prayer, or just an inevitable unclogging of the tube? I don’t have the absolute answer, but I believe in miracles. I believe I witnessed one.

We had gone to Galveston (I think) to go fishing, and I guess he was a little bored that night, or at least uninterested in taking silly photos.

The other memory I treasure from that week was the one night that my mom entrusted me to spend the night with Oliver in the living room. He was sleeping downstairs because it took so much energy to climb the stairs to his room. Mainly I just needed to help him to the bathroom in the middle of the night because he couldn’t get up or sit down by himself. It was such a weird feeling to be able to lift my brother (maybe 80 or 90 pounds at this point) with such ease when I remember him always towering over me and being bigger and stronger than me. I was humbled by the way he allowed me to take care of him, and now I connect it to reading Tuesdays with Morrie when the Morrie allowed himself to be completely pampered (because he had to) in his last weeks as well.

No words were really spoken that night, but it was one of my last nights with him alive, and I didn’t really know what to say anyway. It was what it was. Two brothers together, now the younger one supporting the older one. A role reversal where I did my best to repay him for paving the way for me, being an example and guiding me. He was always a solid rock I could count on, so I did the best I could to be there for him. Even for one night.

Oliver, Randy and I hanging out during Christmas break 2004.

I could write more, but I think I’ll save some tears for a time of quiet reflection later today. To all our family, friends, and Oliver’s friends: Thanks for being there for us, we love you dearly and will never forget the tremendous support you gave us throughout his illness and especially dating back to two years ago this week. I hope you can each take a moment today or this week to pause and reflect on Oliver’s life and death and how it has affected you, and still is today.

Before I end with an e-mail Oliver wrote to his whole high school (where he taught science class) about his diagnosis and treatment, I just want to write an open message to him.

Oliver,

Two years later there are still really no words I can use to express my gratefulness, gratitude and love I still have for my older brother. You were always the one I could count on, who would be there no matter how big or small the problem I had was. I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise when you became a teacher since you were always ’schooling’ me - whether in mario kart or about real life: school, girls, how to treat people. I still miss you every day, and perhaps the most today more than any other day of the year. Though you aren’t with us, you still speak to me daily through the example you set, the way you followed your heart has allowed me to follow mine. I love you.

Always your little brother,

Darwin

 

I think the way Oliver would like to be remembered most vividly is not the weeks or months before his passing, but rather the way he fought so fervently against his cancer, especially in the beginning. If you read the rest of the entry, you can get a sense of his ‘voice.’

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30 years old? I thought I just turned 24 back in February?

It’s not me. My older brother Oliver’s 30th birthday is today. 30 is a big year. Something tells me that Oliver wouldn’t make a big deal about it though. He’d be casual about it, probably still playing Nintendo with his friends or working on his lesson plans. Yet, birthdays always make me reflect. I wonder what life would be like if he never got sick. But ideas like that are pretty silly. Besides, I’m afraid of where I might be because through his cancer and death, my family grew so much closer together, and more importantly, closer to God. I might be able to call him up and wish him a happy birthday, but it wouldn’t mean that much, I would probably still take him for granted along with the rest of my family. But those 3 years after he got sick, our relationship deepened in a way that might never have happened even if he lived to be 80. So it’s with a bittersweet joy that I celebrate his 30th birthday, even if he’s not here to celebrate it with me.

A photo from Christmas 2005 with my hair at its longest.

Reading over the speech I gave at his funeral, it makes me think about who I was back then and how I’ve changed. I sound very detached and matter-of-fact in it. I was still in shock back then and not really connecting with my emotions: the pain and sadness. I was hiding behind a facade of strength and Christian aphorisms about how everything is okay because God’s in control. He has a plan.

While I believe these things to be true, I still struggle with my humanness. I am still sad today. I broke down in tears on the way home yesterday (and yes the 520 traffic did want to make me cry, but it was more than the traffic). I miss my brother. I feel cheated out of having a friend, mentor, role-model and someone I could always count on. Oliver was a high school teacher despite having a Chemical Engineering degree. He loved teaching High School science. He was always teaching me. It was tough being 6 years younger though. We were never really in the same stage of life.

I had one week together with my brother when we were both college graduates before he passed away. By then he was very skinny and weak. We didn’t talk too much. There weren’t really any words left to be said. He said he was glad I made it home (after going on a post-graduation retreat with Intervarsity). Though he was at the end of his life and doctors said he could go any day, he promised me he’d wait till after my retreat because he wanted me to go to it. He kept his promise. I gave him a hug when I saw him and I was afraid I might break him. My older brother who once towered over me and would beat me up as a kid, who I feared and respected, I was stronger than him.

My sister Adrienne, Oliver and I at the hospital in April 2005.

Physically I was stronger, but inside I felt so weak and helpless. It was Oliver who exuded a quiet strength stemming from an inner peace. He knew that it was soon time for God to take him home. He was ready. I wasn’t. I wanted to cling on to his life as long as possible. I was holding out for a miracle. He believed in miracles, and that God could save him. But he just didn’t think it was God’s plan. He accepted that and was okay. I have no idea how he did that. I cannot even begin to fathom how he must have felt. Yet I take solace from his example even today. He was facing death, yet he faced it confidently, peacefully, in a way. And I look at myself panicking over such silly things like girls or jobs or money today. He’s still teaching me.

I guess it’s hard for me to celebrate his life without reliving some of the intense last memories with him. Though I know they are fading and will only fade more as years go on, those are just the details. The important stuff will stay with me until the day I hope to see him again. His voice. His smile. His laugh. They are all mine. Often my parents would confuse us on the phone, or his friends would think I was him. When they watch my face, hear me laugh, they tell me how I have his facial expressions and his laugh as well. But more than these physical things, I hope to always carry with me the love he had for others and the love he had for God. All because he’s no longer on earth with us doesn’t mean he stops being my mentor, my role model, my friend, my brother.

Before the 2005 Rose Bowl where Texas beat Michigan.

Happy 30th Birthday Oliver! I miss you and I love you.

P.S. I hope the Rockets beat the stupid Jazz this year!

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I just arrived from Taipei, Taiwan last night, where I had an 8 hour layover on my way back from the Philippines to be a groomsman in my cousin Eloha’s wedding. I left on a Tuesday night and came back on a Tuesday night. I was gone for a week, but really only spent 5 days in the Philippines and the rest of the time I was just flying. Leaving at a 1:30am flight leaves the airport completely empty and I was totally bored and decided to pass the time with one of my favorite hobbies: photography.

 

Seatac airport is a ghost town at 1am on a Wednesday.

Apparently, that way is, in fact, down.

I arrived on a Thursday afternoon after a 13 hour flight to Taipei, a 2 hour layover and then a 2 hour flight to the Philippines. We soon went to the local mall where we shopped and had dinner at Pizza Hut.

Sporting my new Pizza Hut cap, my cousins Nico and Alexis wait with me for our food.

The next day I spend with my cousins Alexis, Ann, Junel and Joan. We ate at a traditional Filipino restuarant that had some awesome sauce with their fried chicken.

 

Next we stopped at the local SWAT team office where my cousin Jan works.

Inside the office. I’m about to get suited up and armed. (Just kidding)

The next morning Alexis and I took our Lola (that means Grandma in Tagalog, the main Filipino language) out to McDonalds because she likes the fries there.

I ordered the “McRice Burger” which comes with a bun made out of fried rice. It was pretty good I guess. The bun fell apart a little but so I had to be a little careful eating it.

That night we stayed at a local hotel in preparation for the wedding the next day. We were able to relax and kinda chill out before the next day of mayhem began. On Sunday we woke up early for breakfast and toured around the hotel’s recreation area. I took some shots of my cousin’s cousin (my 2nd cousin?) Jun.

This is one of my favorites. Isn’t she cute?

Then the wedding preparations began in full force. An endless stream of people flooded into our hotel rooms: Flowers, makeup artists, wedding coordinators, photogrpahers. It was insane.

Here’s a shot I took of some of the bride’s wedding accessories.

I also had the “honor” of wearing some makeup, lucky me. By the way, I’m wearing a barong, traditional Flipino formalwear for men. It works better than a tux in a place as hot as the Philippines.

My Kuya (respectful term for older brothers/relatives) Lito poses by the staircase, a patient groom. He’s waited over 5 years since they started dating to get married. He can stand to wait a few more hours.

At last, my cousin Eloha comes down the steps.

I caught another cute shot of Jun - don’t you like her dress?

My cousin Engel, the Maid of Honor and bride’s younger sister, and I.

Eloha and I. She scared me when we took this picture by saying, “One day you’ll be the groom in your own wedding.” Haha, as if that day would ever come..

The groom in the middle, surrounded by his best man and groomsmen.

The scene of the wedding - an elegant outdoor garden. The ceremony will take place at the front under the little gazebo.

There were tables set up all around the flower-filled garden - complete with a swimming pool.

The ceremony’s begun and here I am escorting my partner Joy (sister of the groom) down the aisle.

*Cue Here Comes the Bride music* Don’t the bubbles and mist have a nice effect?

Our part in the wedding was to attach a symbolic veil to the both of them, representing that they’ll be together through the good times and the bad together.

The newlywed couple poses after the ceremony.

During the reception, they call on me to make the “Grand Toast” for the couple. I don’t really remember what I said - I hope I didn’t stutter too much.

The wedding was a lot of fun and it was all done so well with such a beautiful ceremony and all, complete with fireworks at the end. More wedding pictures can be found here.

The next day, I went with Eloha’s family to a private island in Subic Bay where we spent the day before leaving the couple alone there to stay the night

The view from the boat as we leave the mainland for the island - a quick 30 minute trip.

As you can see, we had some fun playing in the water, riding inflatable boats while a motorboat pulled us along.

Here’s a picture of Eloha and me by the water. I like the pictures my new Nikon D50 dSLR takes :).

As we left the island, I took this shot of the sun going down approaching dusk.

I had a really good time in the Philippines. Though I was just there in December, this was different since it wasn’t the holidays and I got more of an “everyday” sense of the way things work (outside of the wedding preparations and celebrations). I really miss my cousins and I hope I get to go back soon. That’s it for my first post about the Philippines. I’m going to cut it here and talk about Taiwan in the next one. Thanks for reading :).

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