I remembered I spent my time after I had a Sunday Mass that morning. I used to find the gleaming grin from this young man. He used to be a friend and a student at the same time. I called him Dio. He used to tease me for looking too young despite of being twenty somethings. We laughed together as I tried to tickle him. Little did I know that the little moment I shared with him was the last time. We slowly got busier and I even did not attend the mass in my church. I found the LINE group message striking me in the most uncomfortable way. Ferdinandus Guardio Winarendra passed away yesterday.


I came again to the church and could not find the infectious smile of him. I did not find his hillarious way of calling me “Mbak Bu”. I did not find a person that treat me as teacher and friend at the same time like the way Dio did. I found him lying down cold inside a casket in front of the altar.
Dio, the friend that we all missed. Dio, the student with all his talents and flaws. Dio, the warmest personality I used to find him in the front of the church. I could not help but cried and tried to hold the memory of this young man of only seventeen.
Farewell, Dio.
God embraces your soul forever.

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