Brut’s 40 Days

Trevor DeHaas' supermoon from last week. This makes me miss Brut

 

I cried again last night. For real.

Brut left us 40 days ago. We don’t celebrate this 40 days thing for dogs but dog people will celebrate anything dog related, and we don’t fucking care what other people will say. The day started sad. I woke up very early, I don’t know why. It kinda reminds me that dawn when he died. The morning started sad. I talked with my sisters and reminded them that it is the 40th day. We will celebrate separately no matter what. I told them I will cook pancit later. My sister said she will too.

My sister's bihon guisado

The work day ended. My sister already sent me the picture of her pancit from Papua New Guinea. I promised to go home early so I can go to the grocery and buy the necessary ingredients and whatever I think would fit the occasion. Looking around the grocery I was already teary-eyed. The mere thought of this is the last thing I would do for my dog is really sad. After this he will just be a memory. It is still difficult to take. Cook something for my dog for the last time is hard. I still do it anyway. I have to. I want to.

For the pancit, I already have the noodles, calamansi and French beans at home. I bought cabbage, black fungus, chicken breast and shrimps. I forgot to buy carrots but it was okay. I got white bread. Pancit is not complete without the accompanying slices of bread. I bought a fruit cake, Brut’s memory is not complete without fruit cake. I also bought San Miguel Pale Pilsen six pack just because.

I watched two YouTube videos on how to cook it properly. Cooking was hard, and sad at the same time. The thought of why I am cooking pancit. My roommate arrived home and saw me cooking pancit. “Birthday” he said. I did not answer. My wife arrived from her Yoga class. I am still not done cooking. Make it taste like real pancit has to be met. I don’t want this to be a big disappointment. I want my cooking to be good nonetheless.

When it was done, I prepared the table, served the noodles, chopped the calamansi, put out the coca cola, put the fruit cake as well then took this picture:

After sending that picture to my sisters on Whatsapp, I burst out crying. It felt like fulfilling a promise. Doing a good deed. Saying goodbye. Feeling a heartbreak. One of my saddest moments ever. I got myself a can of pale pilsen and I swear, beer hasn't taste that good in a long time.