22/01/2026
It’s been seven years since you were taken from us, pop.
Not lost. Not gone. Taken. Murdered.
Every year I go back to our old conversations. I read them over and over, as if you’re still asking me right now, “Kamusta ka na, nak?”
You always checked up on me. You always wanted to know if your unica hija was okay.
I didn’t realize then how much those small things mattered. I didn’t know they would be taken too.
Living with the truth that someone chose to end your life, and that justice still hasn’t come, never gets easier. We just learn how to carry it.
If heaven permits a call, I’d call you every day pop.
I’d tell you how I’m doing. I’d let you see that I’m still trying. I’d tell you how much we love and appreciate you, since we didn’t get the chance to say it often while you were still here.
So I surrender this pain to God.
The anger, the waiting, and the questions I still don’t have answers to. The emotions that weighs heavy on my heart. Some days, faith is the only thing holding me together.
I miss you so much, pop Ricardo Reluya.
We’re still hoping and praying for your justice. Love you.
