Aristotle B. Molina
February 3, 1977 –
March 13, 2022
Early this year, our family
dealt with a huge blow. We lost our brother Aris due to cardiac failure. Few
months prior, he had a battle with acute leukemia and went through chemotherapy
sessions in Riyadh. These chemo sessions happened at the time of pandemic where
travel restrictions are still in effect and he had to stay in the Riyadh
hospital alone.
I accepted the reality that
we will have to face dealing with old age, sickness and death, primarily with
our parents getting older and weaker. I did not expect that we will lose my
younger brother so soon.
As a brother, we fondly
remember Aris growing up as soft-spoken and even-tempered man. He was the
gentle soul of our family, with a cheerful disposition in life, growing up as
the only boy in a home surrounded by strong-willed girls. He is a man of few
words, very private in his thoughts and goes on life with a very optimistic
outlook. When we moved to Rizal, he helped me in taking care of our younger
sisters, running our country side home when modern amenities did not yet exist.
He was in charge of fetching water from the deep well, and eventually doing the
cooking chores because he was the better cook after all. He likes cooking
soup-y tinola and adobo. Life was hard when we were growing up and having
chicken or pork for our dishes was a luxury often reserved for special
occasions. In order to stretch dishes, he would cook them with loads of soup
and sauces to make up for lack of meat. He is very fond of basketball and music
from DZMB radio station.
Aris had been living and
working in Saudi Arabia for 23 years already. He left when I was still pregnant
with my firstborn. I remember that he visited me in my workplace in Makati before
his flight and I gave him a going away gift. We were relieved that he is able
to settle well in the foreign country and that the employer gave them good
accommodations. The advent of social media and messaging apps made
communication easier. At least he is able to catch up with the goings on in our
lives and vice versa. He got married in 2009 but their relationship did not
last very long and he was never really able to have a family of his own. I
guess his community of Filipino colleagues overseas had become his second
family over the years. I can also imagine that in the latter years, when Aris
is already getting older and some of his comrades already went back home to
Philippines, solitude, loneliness and the longing to have meaningful
connections caught up with him. I am grateful that in the last few months of
his life, he was not alone for a time when he had to face health challenges,
although it did make his life complicated.
He was supposed to finish his
contract by September and go home for good. We were planning for a family
reunion in Manila by December where my younger sisters and their family will
come home too and that we can be complete once again after more than 10 years.
But sadly, it was not to be.
The repatriation of his
remains was very challenging. He was finally laid to rest last April 21, 2022
at Mount Zion Memorial Park, on the 40th day after this death.
This was the first time we
had to face the death of a loved one, within the immediate family. The most
difficult moment during the final interment rites was when the casket is being lowered
six feet below ground level – the final separation between the living and the
dead. When I learned of Aris’ death, there was shock and disbelief but then
again, there was little time to grieve because there were so many logistical
challenges that had to be managed. The time for grief only truly began for me
after his burial and reality hit that he is now gone from us forever.
Rest in peace, Aris.
We comfort ourselves with all
the good memories with you, and the knowledge that you are now at peace with
our Creator, free from pain and suffering. Our reunion will have to wait.
