I have fond memories of how I and my siblings admired our loving Uncle Abel ever since we were kids. He liked my elder brother and sister the most, and it was truly heartening how he would check out on what’s the latest about them whenever he had the means and time. His arrival from abroad then always came as a fiesta to me as it would mean a series of fun weekends at Burnham Park. Though we are not related by blood, he has placed a special niche in our hearts for he never failed to make everyone in our family feel special with his thoughtfulness. Greeting cards (and voice tapes) from him were a familiar thing for us year in and year out. I could also remember how he delighted Mama with her tape collection of 1970s music. Such caring ways came as typical of him as he was always just a call away even up to now that we’re already grown ups.

The very cheerful soul that he is, Uncle Abel would chuckle to his heart’s content during gatherings. With such vibrant character, he would ride on with the perennial jesting of him as the so-called “Rabbit” because of his trademark front pair of teeth. He, too, presented and carried himself very well. He looked dignified all the time and such was complemented with his good communication skills always expressing his thoughts with class. Yet in spite this, he maintained a very humble profile.

Work wise, he was a standout! I could just assume that he had a hand in the electrical concerns of practically all the houses of everyone else in the clan. Putting it both in literal and figurative contexts, the man will certainly be remembered because he left a mark in our homes.

Sigh, times have really gone by so fast. I guess I will miss him a lot more often now. That day last week when I got word that uncle had a stroke, I immediately rushed to the hospital after work. It was such a moving experience seeing him smile at me when I arrived at his bedside, then asking my auntie and cousin in a very faint voice if all his pamangkins were already on their way to see him. I held my emotions as I saw a joyful tear fall from his eye… I hated the feeling: it seemed he was about to go.

Few days later, the news reached me. My cousin’s text message confirmed my query: “The Jolly Rabbit has gone.” And in a flash, the sweet memories of him gushed into my mind…then I paused in prayer of thanksgiving for the privilege of having been among those made special by such a wonderful person.

Thank you so much Uncle Abel for the love you have given to us all, your pamangkins. Good luck on your next journey — our good Lord’s waiting for you, so always keep that smile Uncle Rabbit; and hop your way through…