Friday, February 26, 2016
<p>Eulogy For My Wife</p><p>Maria Corazon (Marichu) Saraspi-Tan</p><p>By: Cesar F. Tan</p><p>To everyone gathered here today, thank you: for being here with me on this sorrowful day, and for the amazing generosity you bestowed upon us as we suffered through the agonies of the past few weeks. Your thoughts and prayers and deeds of kindness and mercy gave me the courage to walk on during the many moments when I doubted I had the strength to take another step.</p><p>Thirty Two years ago, on an ordinary November night in an ordinary town, I picked-up the phone and called her to introduce myself and to make friends with her. When I heard her voice, her thoughtfulness and kindness, I never wanted to stop getting to know more about her.</p><p>By December, the following month, I went to meet her and first laid eyes upon the extraordinary woman who would change my life forever. I'll never, ever forget the first time I saw Marichu: those beautiful hazel brown eyes and her long, straight dark brown hair made my heart skip a beat, or maybe two, and a strange feeling came over me; a feeling that something important had just happened.</p><p>Over the next few months a deepening friendship developed between us. I noticed she had the gift of making others feel comfortable with themselves; she had an infectious and generous smile; she had a serenity about her. As the months passed and we drew closer, I found myself opening up to her more and more; I felt like I could tell her anything about myself, and she made me feel like whatever particularly unflattering detail I might reveal could never lower her opinion of me. Marichu had an innate understanding of the inevitability of imperfection and this allowed her to see past faults and to focus on the good side of people.</p><p>One year into our affair, in January of 1986, we decided to get civil married. At that point , we both assured ourselves that we never wanted to be parted from one another. We both sat down and cried our eyes out, because we knew, for certain, that we had found the one thing we truly wanted in our life.</p><p>Few years down the road, in 1994, we had our church wedding with God as our witness. The wedding was a great experience for both of us and our entire family and friends.</p><p>In April 1996, we migrated over here in the United States and we started our new life like it was a newly wedded couple. We went through lots of hardship and we both survived and was able to support ourselves to the current state.</p><p>Together we built our own little castle that we both cherish as of late today. We are honored to have lots of great friends that surrounds us. We are specially honored also to have such a great families that continues to provide support for our love story and journey together.</p><p>But truly, for me and Marichu, the honeymoon never ended. Our love for each other never stopped growing. During all the time we spent apart, we always used to say, in text messages and over the phone, that ALL we wanted, ALL we cared about, was being together. And when the time came for us to be together, we savored it. We truly and deeply appreciated the gift of being present with each other.</p><p>The years seemed to melt happily together, and I knew that I'd found the one true calling of my life: as Marichu's husband, and soulmate. Sure, we had some down times along the way, but they were far outnumbered by the ups. We had close and loving family and friends and we shared countless good times with them: There are so many moments during these special times, as the conversation made its way around tables and rooms, I would pause, to slip my hand into Marichu's, or to slip my arm around her shoulders, and I would look at her and think that I must be the luckiest man in the world to have the love of this woman, to have the life we had.</p><p>As much as I'll miss those special occasions, in the end, I will miss the rhythm and cadence and magic of our everyday life even more.</p><p>And now, sadly, that time together has ended. I stood here today hoping to utter words that would in some way illuminate how special a daughter, wife, and friend Marichu was; I wanted to tell the world how much she meant to me, and how much joy she brought to so many people. I wanted to say something beautiful and poetic and majestic, because Marichu was beautiful and poetic and majestic. But I will end with simple words, words simple and true, words which she heard over and over from me and words she never tired of hearing:</p><p>I love you, Marichu. I always will.</p><p>I will surely soon to be with you, wherever you are…</p><p>Your loving husband,</p><p>-Cesar</p>
