Laughter and Goodbye

Yesterday a good friend of mine left Rome. He returned to Barcelona for good. We’ve been together for more than three years here in the MSC Generalate House. He was Catalan by birth and by choice. Aside from his native tongue, he could speak Spanish (of course) and French.

His name is Joaquin.

He was a very funny guy, funny in a non-irritating, likeable way.  He would call me “Signor Esteven, grande uomo” the way Antonio Banderas would say “caramba”.  We would sing Spanish and Italian songs while washing the dishes or while drinking espresso. Our all time favorite was “Volare” and “Cielito Lindo”.  Although sometimes I’d sing “La Bomba” or “Asereje”. He always brought me airplane toothpicks (my collection) whenever he returned from his travels abroad. There are two French fathers living with us in the Generalate House but it was with Joaquin that I conversed in French. Well, not Parisian French, mind you, but Italianized Français.  Whenever we came to a point when we didn’t know the French word, we would just Frenchise an Italian parola. Kind of adding a Tagalog prefix to an English word (say, pakistep sa brakes, or pakipush ng door).

He was a prolific writer. I cannot count how many books he wrote for the MSC congregation. The man was a walking encyclopedia when it comes to missionary apostolate. He had spent most of his missionary life in Guatemala and he always said that he had the most fulfilling years as an MSC and as a priest in that country.  He said that his foremost mission in life is to spread joy and that’s exactly why he liked to joke and make people laugh.

Sometimes he would call me to repair his antique laptop. I have told him many times to buy a new one but he wouldn’t part with his Windows 98 machine.  He said that he did not need a faster one because he only used MS Word and Internet Explorer anyway.  I jokingly told him that his computer was like a wooden cart in the internet superhighway.

He left at exactly 11:45 yesterday morning. Europeans are so punctual, even in their goodbyes. When he left, it felt like the Generalate House suddenly lost its laughter.  I’d miss Joaquin not only for his sense of humor but for showing me that laughter is a gift of God that can make all things new and alive with divine joy.