THIS IS A STORY ABOUT A MAN named Eddie and it begins at the- The Five People You Meet in Heaven
end, with Eddie dying in the sun. It might seem strange to start a story
with an ending. But all endings are also beginnings. We just don't know
it at the time.
by Mitch Albom
Since
summer time has made itself at home here in the country and summer
classes, as I have found out, cost an arm and a leg- and probably
some other internal organs as well- I have decided to make these two
months of vacation as productive as I possibly can. That means
looking for work, indulging on books, practicing my writing, catching
up on forgotten passions (music and dance), and eating healthy to my
heart's content- I just hope it's disciplined enough to lay off the
bacon and sweets just for 8 weeks. Anyhow, like always, I made it a
point to stick to a schedule. My OC self would always take over at
times like these when the temptation of doing nothing and being
nothing tries to stage an attack. I wrote down everything I needed to
do for the summer in an old notebook and crossed my fingers, hoping
each one written there would push through. It didn't.
I was
applying for my school's official publication. Every aspiring
writer's dream- to have his name printed in a newspaper even before
he gets his diploma. I was one of them, ofcourse. But as easily as
fate conspires to have dreams reached, odds can be against it. Just
when I was one step closer to the position, I felt the weight of
rejection drag me down. In a matter of hours, I got the depressing
news. I didn't know what was worse- knowing I failed or knowing I
failed without knowing why. In a cruel twist of irony, I received the
news moments after positively relating how I did in the interview to
my mom and dad. I went up to my room thinking I made them proud. I
went down again taking it all back. It's moments like this when I
question the dignity of my optimism. I notice I do a lot of
positive-filled posts and saintly encouragements; I wonder if after
spending more years in the adult world, would I change this kind of
thinking? Would I turn into those lonely men and women who feel stuck
and unhappy, rotting in the cycle of making a living instead of
actually living? Uggghhh! Whatever. That's still a long way down the
road. What's important is now. And now I feel like having a bucket of
fried chicken and some Ben&Jerry's while at it. Maybe listen to
some Alicia Keys to have my swagger back, I don't know.
Recently,
I downloaded a bunch of pdf files of books that I longed to read. I
chose to read The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom,
thinking another Paulo Coelho-like magic might work on a
tragedy-struck girl like moi. And I was right in my choice. I was
debating on whether to pick up an Emily Griffin book versus that and
I'm really glad I chose the latter. After the introductory paragraph,
I though to myself “Dear, God: Where has this fine piece of
literature been all my life?”. It was that helpful. This is no book
review post so I'll make the spoiling quick, okay. The story centers
on a man named Eddie and his journey to five places in heaven wherein
he meets five people who have impacted his life in some way. In each
place in heaven, he learns a lesson from one person and at the end
received a better understanding of his life on earth. The messages
involved life having no random acts, sacrifice, forgiveness, lost
loves and purposes. The entire plot and concept was magical. I was
crying half-way through the book. Even the dedication part hit me. In
a course of one day, I felt better. The book took me back to the
interview itself when I was asked. “Would you commit a Kristel Tejada, if you don't get in,” they said in Tagalog. I didn't know
why I answered right away, “no sir, masaya pong mabuhay.” Now,
I think I know.
(P.S
I'm a badass, I still have my back-up plans. Sorry, setbacks. Better
luck next time. I have loads of legendary things to do.)
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