Remember Me
“Remember me
In a Bible cracked and faded by the years
Remember me
In a sanctuary filled with silent prayerAnd age to age
And heart to heart
Bound by grace and peace
Child of wonder
Child of God
I've remembered you
Remember me”- Mark Schulz
The death of a loved one is never easy. It doesn’t matter if it’s sudden or whether your loved one has been battling an illness for many years. The sting of death cuts so deep and can be quite incapacitating. This past week, we lost my dear Uncle Henry. He was only 65.
The last time I saw my uncle was thirty-seven years ago. Thirty-seven years ago! Why do we allow so much time to pass? I don’t have a definitive answer to that question, just a bunch of assumptions. But through the power of technology and FaceTime, I was able to lay eyes on him one last time, just before he passed. Even though it was thirty-seven years since I last saw him, his death had an unexpected impact on me. When I open my eyes in the morning, he is the first thing I think about. I have thoughts of him throughout the day. And I think about him just before I close my eyes at night. I’m not sure why I think about him so frequently. But I do.
When we lived in Illinois, Uncle Henry, along with my grandfather and two aunts, came to live with us for a while. From what I can remember, my uncle was a soft-spoken person. He was very kind and very loving. And though it was many years ago, I do recall that he liked to engage me in conversation and often tried to teach me Filipino martial arts. He was pretty good with nunchucks! I, on the other hand, was not. I could not twirl them without hitting some part of my body. He and my relatives stayed in the room across from mine and we’d converse often. But with his work schedule and my “busy” teenage life, it wasn’t as often as I would have liked.
A Heroic Act
A few years later, we moved to New York. I assume this was the start of losing touch. The next I heard of my uncle was when I heard of his heroic feat; he saved the lives of three children. An article in the Chicago Tribune dated April 26, 1985, gives an account of what happened:
Henry Abellar, a 28-year-old unemployed mechanic from Downers Grove, saved three children by pushing them out of the way of a van, only to be hit and seriously injured.
And another article in the Chicago Sun Times dated April 27, 1985, reported this:
Henry Abellar of Downers Grove smiles optimistically while talking with Susan Anderson, a nurse at Good Samaritan Hospital in Downers Grove. Abellar, who suffered severe scrapes on his chest, arms, and legs, is scheduled to undergo reconstructive surgery tomorrow. Abellar faces a number of operations and extensive physical rehabilitation. A “Friends of Abellar Fund” has been established at Downers Grove National Bank to help offset medical expenses.
The Downers Grove Reporter interviewed my uncle and wrote this:
Abellar spoke to the REPORTER last week and stated, “There is always pain, but it’s not that bad.” The patient acted heroically when he spotted the van driving towards the children as he pushed them out of the way. However, the van hit Abellar, causing six broken ribs, two broken pelvic bones and badly damaged tissue and nerves on his left arm.
The article goes on to say:
The driver kept driving the van on the shoulder of the road and shaking the van. I closed my eyes and said, “God, I love you, and I’m not ready to die.” the 28-year-old Filipino stated. He also explained that thoughts about his loved ones crossed his mind while he was under the van. Abellar mentioned that as the van approached, he considered two choices. One option would be to stand and allow himself to be hit by the auto. The other was to push the children out of the way.
Reflection
I share his good deed with you as testament to just how truly kind my uncle was. I think about what he did and wonder, if I found myself in a situation like that, could I have been so selfless? Would I have found the courage to give my life for someone else’s life? To save a stranger’s life? Could you? Maybe this is one of the reasons why he often crosses my mind. I think of this heroic act that he did and compare that to how frail he was when he died. I think about how lucky he was to have survived that ordeal and think, “Why couldn’t he survive this?” “Why did he have to be taken so young?” I realize 65 is not young. But if you know that the average life expectancy of a male in the United States is 77.28years and the average life expectancy of a male in the Philippines is 71.36 years, he still had a few good years ahead of him.
Death comes for us all. No one knows the time or day when we’ll be called home. And so, we need to remember that life is a gift. Every morning, that we wake up and open our eyes, is a gift. The death of my uncle has caused me to reflect and think about what’s truly important in life. I guess the point of this blog was not only to remember my Uncle Henry and celebrate his life, but to also remind each of you that life is short. Is there someone in your life you haven’t spoken to in a while? Have you let a lot of time pass from the last time you saw them? If someone comes to mind as you read this, don’t let another minute pass. If they don’t live close, there are many ways to bridge the gap. Technology has made that possible for us. Often, the biggest regret we have is wishing we did or said something. Don’t let that be you.
