A Light Once Known
Only in darkness, when a flame has been extinguished,
Do we see the glow of the light, suddenly relinquished.
Its radiance lost, yet lingering still,
A glow that haunts, a silent chill.
November 30, 2014
“What the fuck dude?!” Beatriz mumbled as she woke up from a terrible nightmare. She was angry at Humberto, lying asleep next to her. In the strange way of dreams, Humberto had visited her in her sleep and had tried to tell her, “It’s my time. You’re going to have to let me go.”
“It was just a dream, Bia. It’s okay. He’s right there, sound asleep. Let it go,” She told herself as she tried to calm her nerves. Unable to fall back asleep, she watched some Netflix while keeping an eye on her beloved. He was so beautiful when he slept.
Dozing in and out of her own state of consciousness, Beatriz began to hear Humberto’s breathing. It was heavy, labored, as if he had just entered a deep sleep cycle. Long drawn out breaths soon picked up pace, almost panting, struggling for oxygen, like his essence was being choked by an invisible force. Then, suddenly, under the covers, his body started to shake and convulse.
“Wake up, Humb! Are you okay? What’s happening?! Humberto!! I’m right here. I’m here. It’s me—Bia! Humberto!! Wake up! Wake up wake up wake up!!”
In the middle of the darkest night, no matter how much Beatriz shook her dormant partner, he wouldn’t wake. Lying on his back, his pale blue eyes were open wide, but he was detached, as if trapped in some distant dream.
Unsure what was happening, Beatriz left in a hurry to go and grab his parents. She stumbled down the hall, hands grasping the walls, bracing herself, afraid she would collapse at any moment from the sheer weight of the reality she couldn’t bear to accept. “He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s just convulsing. He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s got to be fine.” So much hope channeled into words that somehow form a prayer; how we all long to believe that if we say anything enough, it will be true. And so, we repeat ourselves over and over, unwilling to accept any alternative. “He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine…”
“Wake up! Help me – please help me! Humberto, he’s…he’s…he’s having a seizure. I don’t know what’s happening…” she desperately yells into Humberto’s parents’ bedroom. Jolted awake, the parents tried to process the distressing cry for help. As if waking from her own nightmare, Humberto’s mother cries, “My son is dying.” Somehow, she knew, without even stepping into Humberto’s bedroom. “My son…is dying.” As they rose from their bed, Beatriz quickly returned to Humberto’s bedroom; she also knew the truth.
The room was bright, radiating with light, as if stadium spotlights were pointed in through the windows. She moved towards the bed and sat down next to Humberto, placing his hand in hers. His body was now still and silent, radiating the diminishing warmth of his once present lifeforce. Though his body was now calm and though his heart was still beating, in the deepest part of her core, she knew that his spirit had departed. Lying there on the bed was just a young boy. “So, this is death…”
As one grasps onto an ineffable, fading dream, though futile, she held on to Humberto’s hand, hoping to ground him in this physical world. Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her. Thinking it was Humberto’s parents, finally arriving in the room, Beatriz turned to face the door, but there was no one. And yet, still she sensed a presence; his presence.
“I’m here with you. We’re all here with you. I love you, Humberto.” It was the first and last time she uttered those words. And with those final words, the astral glow in the room diminished and Beatriz was now left alone in the shadows. He was gone.
The ambulance arrived shortly thereafter, but it was no use. Humberto died within an hour.
The spark, so small, that ignited the fire,
Burned with such passion, love it did inspire,
Flickering in the shadows, much hope it did impart,
Shining with all its light, radiating warmth from the heart.
Life is nothing if not complicated, even if at its core, it is really quite simple.
Beatriz first met Humberto while working at PricewaterhouseCoopers (PwC) in Brazil. He was flirtatious and warm. It was unexpected and yet delightfully welcomed; unexpected because Beatriz was currently married to a military man, Alan, but delightfully welcomed because the love between Beatriz and Alan had long dried up with the drought of distance and time. “It was his cologne that first drew me in to his aura. Chanel Platinum Égoïste. I remember smelling it on Alan and thinking, it’s not the right person. And then I smelled it on Humberto and something inside me simply knew, he’s the one.”
Shortly after meeting Humberto, Beatriz had a severe asthma attack and needed to get to the hospital. In lieu of accompanying his wife to the hospital, Alan simply sent an SMS saying, “Text me when you get there.” A week later, Alan and Beatriz separated, though their divorce would take some time.
Humberto waited a year before pursuing Beatriz. Though he barely knew her, Humberto understood on a deep level that she was the perfect woman for him; he also believed she would be the last woman for him. Humberto was a gorgeous man with an enchanting smile and the deepest, blue eyes that pulled you into his world. He was also grouchy and always woke up in the worst mood, but then he would put on some music and get into the groove of the day. He had an unassuming energy about him. He lived well.
And so began their journey together in 2010. In 2011, Beatriz and Humberto moved to Singapore, continuing to work with PwC while exploring the treasures and spices of Southeast Asia. “My gift to Humberto was being the push he needed to get overseas. He longed to explore the world, to build a global community of friends and family. I moved to Singapore first and forced his hand. I think it was the last thing his soul needed to do.”
After a couple adventurous years abroad, living fully alive, Humberto and Beatriz returned to Brazil, moving to Rio de Janeiro. They were in the prime of their life. Though technically married under Brazilian law, Humberto wanted to marry Beatriz officially, in a church. Two become one and then some day, perhaps they’d bring a third into the world. Humberto would often say to Beatriz, “We need a baby; a baby with my blue eyes and the rest just like you.” They were in love and life was beautiful.
But how fast the candle burned in the steady hands of Time,
Until one fateful night when solemn bells echoed Death’s chime,
Too soon the wispy smoke emerged, the wick fully consumed,
Light eclipsed by shadow, only darkness, now entombed.
Whether merely the brain seeking to rationalize the ways of the world or whether inspired by some higher consciousness, it is often only in hindsight that we begin to piece together the greater story, seeing how everything is interconnected.
In the days leading up to November 30, 2014, Beatriz remembers various scenes that foreshadowed Humberto’s death. She remembers having lunch with her father, a military attaché, and having the strange sensation that someone would die. Given his age, Beatriz thought it was her father who might die soon; it would be sad, but not entirely unexpected.
Later, driving with Humberto, again Beatriz had the same intrusive thought, “I think someone is going to die.” Perhaps unwilling to confront the discomfort of death, or perhaps simply trying to lift her spirits by changing the topic, Humberto looked at her and told her to be quiet; surely it was nonsense. Was it coincidence that Tim McGraw’s song, Live Like You Were Dying, was also playing?
Recounting the story today, Beatriz almost perceives a divine intention in the events leading up to Humberto’s death. The night Humberto died, he and Beatriz were back in his hometown, visiting with his family. Unknowingly, they all shared a final dinner together, Humberto and Beatriz, Humberto’s family, and Beatriz’s mother. “The dinner was unusual – it was beautiful and meaningful in a way none of us could understand at the time.” Upon finishing dinner, Beatriz’s mother thanked Humberto for a lovely evening; she often had reservations about Humberto given some tensions early in his and Beatriz’s relationship. That night however, she saw him for the man that he was, the man who sincerely loved her daughter.
After dinner, while driving home, Humberto’s mother also felt something unusual. Turning to her husband, she asked, “Can you please drive a little slower? My heart feels like it is being squished.” It was as if there was a heaviness clenching her heart, but she didn’t fully understand what her intuition already knew.
Arriving back at Humberto’s parents’ house, Beatriz and Humberto prepared to go to bed. Changing into their pajamas, Humberto realized he had left his change of clothes back at the apartment in Rio. Smiling today, Beatriz says, “It’s like he knew he wouldn’t need a change of clothes the next day. The whole evening, it’s like he orchestrated the end of his life, bringing everyone together for one last meal, one last goodbye, like he knew, at an unconscious level, that the end was coming. And after that perfect evening, being home with his family, he made sure I had the support around me to navigate what came next. He made sure we would have each other.”
Left alone in silence, mourning a grief so vast,
Memories, how they fade as the years now have passed,
The absence of your light is felt in my every cell,
What truly once was heaven, suddenly feels like hell.
Shortly after his death, the family held a funeral for Humberto. The church was full of people from various chapters of his life; so many people and so many memories were shared in that space. It was like the final hug in a relationship, when you love someone, but know that your paths part ways. You hold each other as tight as you can, lingering in the doorway, unwilling to say the inevitable goodbye. For Beatriz, the funeral was that final hug, surrounded by love and by memories, a final moment to embrace the fullness of Humberto’s life, to feel his luminous presence; it was the final moment to pause and delay the impending grief that awaited Beatriz when she returned home to Rio, alone.
“He left at the best time in our lives, but I know I was one of the lucky ones. I got to experience The Great Love. But then he left. And that became the worst moment in my life. With Humberto, I knew heaven. And now, without him, I know hell.”
Linear time may be a construct, but in this physical realm, there is no path but forward. After the funeral, Beatriz had no choice but to eventually return home to Rio de Janeiro. Known for its vibrant colors and vivacious energy, Rio was nothing but gray, drab and dreary.
The emotions of grief can be so consuming. “Nothing prepares you for this kind of loss. How do you grieve the death of your soulmate? How do you begin to move on? How do you explain to someone what it means to be utterly heartbroken? How do I explain that I dream about and long for Humberto, physically, mentally, emotionally, sexually, and spiritually? How do I reconcile the fact that I wish someone else, anyone else had died in his stead?”
Going through their apartment, Beatriz would see photos of the two of them; “I saw ‘us’ but I couldn’t see ‘him’ anymore.” Days went by, numb and in shock, before she finally felt the gravity of his death and broke down sobbing. Suicide seemed like such a beautiful escape from the hell in which she was perpetually living. What could possibly be worse? Was the grief worth it?
In moments of weakness, she would go through all their photos, but then she beat herself up, believing she wasn’t making progress. She went through his belongings, trying to remember him. She slept in his clothes, trying to recall his smell, wanting to believe it was his arms wrapped around her body. She wrote him letters; she still does occasionally, in effort to remember him. “The problem with the human mind is our propensity to forget things. I don’t want to forget him. I didn’t want to lose his scent. But I appreciate how the brain works to preserve the self. We are wired to survive.”
“For a period of time, you aren’t yourself. But at some point, you realize you have a choice, to choose the light and live, or to choose the dark and be bitter. I wanted to die. I didn’t want to live with the sadness and the sorrow, with his profound absence in my life. But Humberto was my light. I know that to honor Humberto, I need to live a beautiful life so I can meet him when my time comes and be reunited with him.”
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. With time, Beatriz grew stronger—still frail, yes, but stronger. In our suffering, healing is but a direction, never a destination. She started to clean up the apartment and give away his clothes. “When someone passes away, you learn the small things about them.” In each of his jackets, Humberto had a pen from PwC; she chuckles today thinking about the dozens of pens she collected from his clothes.
Ten years have now passed. Today, in 2024, Beatriz has found her way through the darkness and shines with the light of Humberto. He may not walk amongst the living as a man, but as an angel, he is a part of Beatriz. She has found her own sense of faith, believing in the eternal power and connection of love that unifies everyone and everything. And she believes that one day, in the realm of spirit, she will be reunited with Humberto.
Reflecting on Humberto’s gift to Beatriz, she said, “He loved me. And I learned to love someone else. I rediscovered life and today, my life is an homage to Humberto. He was the best part of me. He made me stronger – I know I can get through anything. I may cry, but I’ll still be standing there. I know that now. I try to be a better person, for Humberto, for the world. I try to see the beauty in everything. I love more. I worry less. We are all here to live a beautiful life of love.”
“We all get a number. You can’t trade it. When your number is called, your time is up. Humberto, I miss you. So much. Thank you for allowing me to be beside you, for taking care of me both in your living and your dying. I can’t wait to see you again.”
Only in darkness, when a flame has been extinguished,
Do we embrace the glow of a light never truly relinquished,
For its brilliance still lingers, like the aura of morning dew,
A light once known, its love burns forever true.
A Light Once Known
Only in darkness, when a flame has been extinguished,
Do we see the glow of the light, suddenly relinquished.
Its radiance lost, yet lingering still,
A glow that haunts, a silent chill.
The spark, so small, that ignited the fire,
Burned with such passion, love it did inspire,
Flickering in the shadows, much hope it did impart,
Shining with all its light, radiating warmth from the heart.
But how fast the candle burned in the steady hands of Time,
Until one fateful night when solemn bells echoed Death’s chime,
Too soon the wispy smoke emerged, the wick fully consumed,
Light eclipsed by shadow, only darkness, now entombed.
Left alone in silence, mourning a grief so vast,
Memories, how they fade as the years now have passed,
The absence of your light is felt in my every cell,
What truly once was heaven, suddenly feels like hell.
Only in darkness, when a flame has been extinguished,
Do we embrace the glow of a light never truly relinquished,
For its brilliance still lingers, like the aura of morning dew,
A light once known, its love burns forever true.
For Humberto Gomes and the 10-year anniversary of his death on November 30, 2014.
Dane Dowell
November 30, 2024