By Gee-Gee O. Torres

I’d worked with Father Niall in Misyon for almost nine years, but why do I find this very difficult to write? There’s so much to tell about him but I don’t know how to begin. I refuse to think that he’s not with us anymore. I am afraid that if I do, he’d be part of yesterday and it would mean that he would become someone to remember only once in a while  — I don’t want that. If I could only hold back the time, I would. I’d like April 23 of this year to last forever. This was the day when he sent me his last email. He told me that he was looking forward to Tuesday because they were going to do an ultrasound on him. He said that things were looking brighter though there was still a long way to go. This gave me high hopes that he’d make it and that I’d see him again. However, April 25 we received the news that he had a bad fall from his wheelchair, then April 27 his sudden death. I felt empty . . .

The eldest brother of Father Niall, Fergus, brought home his ashes to the Philippines

Father Niall was not just an editor to me. He was a friend —  a friend whom I could talk to, a friend who listened. He told me to remember the story of the Three Wise Men . . . ‘they were following the Star and then it disappeared. But the important thing is that they kept going and then suddenly the Star reappeared right over the place where the Infant was in the cave . . . that will happen to you. The clouds will lift and the Star will reappear and you will be flooded with happiness and you will remember my words.’

Fergus hands over the urn to Msgr Vic Rivas (Diocese of Bacolod)

Father Niall, I will always remember your words. You know how much you touched my life and how grateful I am for all the things that you taught me. You taught me how to live and showed me how beautiful life is. You will always have a special place in my heart.

Father Niall's parishiners in Kabankalan took turns in carrying the casket containing his ashes