I do not see sparks when he smiles and he smiles a lot, laughs a lot. Are those real teeth, though?
The words coming out of his mouth do not compare with that of Gandhi or with any president of any country or homeowners association, whether living, dying or dead. His are of a different level altogether -lower or higher, make a guess.
His actions, namely the jumpshots he makes in every city he visits; his tennis and golf swings; his daily 25k steps; boxing punches -are more of perspirations than inspirations. But can you beat him?
Yet here I am. Nowhere near racking my brain for words to describe, honor and celebrate him. I need not see sparks, or hear rhetorical words, or witness actions that are super-extraordinary. I just have to.
He is real. They say, what you see is what you get. This may be true but for me, it’s what you see is what you love. He lets you be in his world to experience the wonder of it and learn his recipe for enjoying life each day at a time. Ask me about the joy of sharing twinning jackets with him. I smile just recalling that time.
For him, things little are things big. Things big are things little. Don’t overthink what this means because I don’t know either. What I know is he values every little big thing that comes his way. This must have been the product of all the lessons he’s picked up all this years of working, serving, traveling and dancing in front of a youtube video.
He is family. Not just because of affinity. I call family those that I love and appreciate and those that laugh at my jokes; those I disagree with in some things but still agree in others. Oh yes, he is such. His love for his own goes beyond sanity and exceeds scientific explanation. Makes you really want to belong. And as a sweetener to this, he loves ube and macapuno. That, too, I love.
He is Hermie Morelos. If you know him as well as I do, your Facebook page should also be flooded with greetings from people he has touched and from those who want to touch him -you know, like a saint. But he ain’t one. I’ve seen his bad side to make me doubt it but yet, a bad side that’s an exemplar on how to be bad. In a good way, a bad example. Do you catch my drift? On second thought, maybe he is a saint.
Happiest birthday, my dear brother. I know you want more of this. But too much and too mushy already. Time to bring out the good wine.
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