By: Telly Gonzaga-Ocampo
A Goodbye Note for my dear brother, Dodong!
Since my mother passed away on July 27, 1994, our lives as siblings changed forever. As the second eldest, I found the weight of responsibility settle heavily on my shoulders.
The yoke was heavy. But God, in His kindness, never let us carry it alone. Family, cousins, and friends stood beside us. Some friends became closer than blood. In the lowest moments, I remembered the words of song Footprints in the Sand. “When I could not walk anymore, God carried me.”
First, I thank the Lord for every blessing He has poured on our family.
My husband, Roger.
He is not perfect, but his heart for my siblings has always been. When Mama died, she was already worried about Cora, my sister. She must have had a premonition. So, after she was gone, Cora came to live with us. Roger welcomed her without any question.
After Typhoon Odette, two more of my siblings came under our care: Junior and Dodong. Junior passed away on January 7, 2024 — on my husband’s 84th birthday.
Then, there was Dodong named Julito Gonzaga.
With Dodong’s life with us, I must thank my two daughters, Estela and Irene. They were like Mary and Martha in Jesus’ time. Irene was our Martha — hands always busy, meeting every physical need. In the hospital, she stayed with Michelle (a cousin) and held Dodong’s hand at his last breath.
Estela had to leave for an important engagement in Cebu. But the truth is, my two girls are only whole when they are together. One without the other is not enough.
But before Estela left for Cebu, she made sure that everything was in place. With tears rolling down her face, she recalled using these exact words:
“It was me who arranged to have the video call with Tito Dodong from the hospital midday on the day he died. We had both signed the waiver for blood transfusion and amputation of his left leg. I made arrangements for the waiver and paid him a visit (before leaving for the pier to go to Cebu for the exhibit preparations). Mama and Ayen were at home that time. I’d like to think the video conversation helped Tito Dodong and Mama find some peace. I had arranged for the video call because with the waivers, it meant that we would let nature take its course. I had a conversation with Tito Dodong about it and I reminded him that it meant the end may come sooner (and it did). So it was very important to say goodbye and make amends. Am grateful Tito Dodong’s last hours were pain free and peaceful. God was kind to him.”
Dodong took his last breath at 7:30 in the evening on Thursday, August 27, 2026 — the feast of St. Monica, mother of St. Augustine.
That morning he called me through Irene’s phone as arranged by Estela. His voice was weak but clear.
“Pasayloa ko, Tel.”(Forgive me, Tel).
He was conscious until the very end.
I keep remembering a poem I read long ago. It feels like it was written for him:
It is easy enough to be pleasant
While life goes on like a song.
But the man worthwhile is the man who can smile
When everything goes dead wrong.
For the test of the heart is trouble,
And it always comes with the years.
And the smile that is worth the praise of the earth
Is the smile that shines through tears.
Dong, I know Irene won’t be able to sing this for you. For the three of us — Irene, Estela, and me — you are the one who gave everything, physically and emotionally, until you had nothing left to give.
Goodbye, my dear brother.
In God’s perfect time, we will all be together again. Somewhere.