Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Ghost writer

My dad's friend is dying but even then, he still found the time to e-mail my dad and their other friends, letting them know that they shouldn't worry about him because he has accepted his fate.  He said he had a few days, if not just hours, on earth.

Naturally, people had to reply.  For my dad's part, he had so much to say but with all the emotion, he found it hard to write everything.  The thing was he already had to reply as time was of the essence.  He was worried that if he put it off for another day, his friend might never get to read his letter.

Eto na, shet. He called me and asked for my help. He was already a bit teary-eyed when he was telling me the gist of what he wanted to say but couldn't articulate in writing.  I know it's my job -- one of the things I get paid for is to write what people want me to write... but a letter to a dying person? Darn! But I had to do it, of course.

I guess that's the difference -- if it were me, I wouldn't have been able to say exactly how I felt but I would've been able to write fluidly.  Perhaps the only time that I'd be able to talk about something that heavy is if I'm intoxicated... then somebody has to stop my talking!