My teacher from last year Prof Miguel Hagerty died in the 26th of last September. He has always been in a struggle against cancer , in which cancer had triumph at the end. That was three weeks away and I had a moment of silence when I read the news , but then I started worrying about a class I took with him that was never confirmed as ''passed'' and that he might have taken the secret of my class to his grave.
Today I went -as the schedule says- to the class he used to teach - the one I passed but no one has a record of it- just out of pure curiosity to know who would replace him. After a while in front of the locked door we realized that there is no class because there is no teacher.
It was then when I realized that he is gone ,,, you know: Gone , never coming back , leaving his place , his memories and the all the people who loved him behind.
I did not think about it this way... I was far away and his death was one more ring in the chain of absence , but when I was back in the faculty where he formed a very important part I felt that he has really really died.
Its 3 am , but I am feeling a strong urge to go visit his grave ,,, maybe tomorrow morning I will ... Maybe.
The picture above is the only one I have with him , and in that day I was so shy that I wanted to go home without taking it. Now I am thankful that I did.
May his soul rest in peace.
Ya rabb.
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