{"id":3571,"date":"2026-04-02T09:24:28","date_gmt":"2026-04-02T03:54:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/?p=3571"},"modified":"2026-04-02T09:27:24","modified_gmt":"2026-04-02T03:57:24","slug":"a-sunset-that-came-too-soon","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/a-sunset-that-came-too-soon\/","title":{"rendered":"A sunset that came too soon\u00a0"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p>A <em>tribute to my friend Mr. Tony Dias&nbsp;<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\">\n<figure class=\"alignleft size-full is-resized\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"526\" height=\"526\" src=\"https:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Antu.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-3573\" style=\"width:183px;height:auto\" srcset=\"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Antu.jpg 526w, http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Antu-300x300.jpg 300w, http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Antu-150x150.jpg 150w, http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Antu-230x230.jpg 230w, http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/Antu-365x365.jpg 365w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 526px) 100vw, 526px\" \/><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n<p>As always, those early morning calls that come outside of normal hours carry&nbsp;with them a quiet sense of unease feeling that something is not right. That Tuesday morning was no different. The ringing of the phone shattered the stillness, and in that very moment, an unspoken fear settled in. And then came the news&#8230; news that would weigh heavily on our hearts, leaving us in disbelief and sorrow.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>For the past few months, we had already lost a couple of our dear friends. Just as we were beginning to come to terms with those scars, this loss has come upon us like a wound that will not heal easily. Today feels like a sunset that came far too soon as though the sun that lit our lives has quietly slipped beyond the horizon, leaving behind a sky heavy with darkness and silence. There is an emptiness in the air, a stillness that echoes the pain in our hearts. It feels unreal&#8230; almost impossible to accept&#8230; that someone who meant so much, someone who was such a constant in our lives, is no longer with us.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<!--more-->\n\n\n\n<p><strong>Mr. Tony Dias <\/strong>&#8211; or Antoo as we fondly called him &#8211; was not just a friend, not just a relative. He was more than family. And today, probably with many others I stand here with a heart that feels incomplete, as though a part of me has been taken away. No words can truly capture this loss, no expression can fully describe the sorrow of knowing that he is gone-gone too soon, gone too far&#8230;.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Antoo was not just helpful &#8211; that word feels far too small. He was selfless, unwavering, and deeply compassionate in a way that touched every life around him. He was the kind of person who never waited to be asked &#8211; he simply showed up. Always a phone call away, always present&#8230; in moments of joy, and even more so in moments of pain. In sickness or celebration, you could count on him on time, every&nbsp;time, without fail.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He was also a meticulous and methodical person. Even to the very last day, if a task was entrusted to him, you could rest assured it would be completed \u2014 no matter what challenges arose. That quiet reliability was one of his greatest strengths, and one of the many reasons so many of us depended on him without hesitation.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Our journey together goes back many years, filled with memories I will carry for the rest of my life. I will never forget his support during my mother&#8217;s illness &#8211; how he stayed in constant touch, how he stood by me when I needed strength the most. I still remember the call where he told me to come back to Goa immediately because she was in a coma explaining in details why the urgent trip was necessary. That was Antoo&#8230; always watching over, always standing guard for those he loved.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I also carry deep gratitude for the time when I was operated on in Kuwait during the uncertainty of the COVID period. During those difficult days, Antoo became my strength from across the ocean. He called me almost every day, checking on me, encouraging me, waiting patiently until I was out of the hospital. That was his love-constant, reassuring, unwavering&#8230; never letting you feel alone, no matter the distance.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Call it generosity, call it charity &#8211; his name will forever be etched in gold be it for St. Sebastian Church, Aquem, and St. Sebastian Cemetery and even for the Parish bulletin <strong>&#8220;PORMOLL<\/strong>&#8221; His efforts stand out today as living testimonies to his involvement, dedication, his hard work, and his love for the community. They stand tall, just as he did steadfast, giving, and full of purpose.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Just days ago, life felt so normal. You watched the finals of cricket match with us, enjoying it as always. We exchanged a simple hello at last Sunday&#8217;s Massa passing moment that now feels so precious. And then&#8230; you were gone. So sudden, so difficult to believe, that even now it feels unreal.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Your warmth, your humor, your presence &#8211; they filled every space you entered. Weddings, festivals, funerals, dramas&#8230; you were&nbsp;always there with us whenever time permitted. You didn&#8217;t just visit- you belonged. You treated my family as your own. And even when we had our differences, as all relationships do, we spoke from the heart and moved forward stronger than before. You were not perfect-none of us are&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>but your goodness always outweighed everything else. That is what we will remember. That is what we will carry with us.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>And although we might never be able to connect the dots, today, in our grief, we are reminded of a quiet truth how often we fail to tell the people who matter most just how much they mean to us. How often we take for granted those who stand beside us in our darkest hours. Antoo was one of those rare souls someone you could call without hesitation, lean on without fear, trust without question.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As you made your final journey from your home to the Church and then to your place of rest, there is so much more I wish I could express-far more than words or pages could ever contain. My deepest regret is that I never truly told you, in person, how much your kindness meant to me, and how profoundly grateful I was to have you in my life. You left too soon, without giving us the chance to say goodbye or to offer one final &#8220;thank you.&#8221; You stood by me through my most difficult times, and today I find myself at a crossroads, blank in mind wondering who I can turn to when life throws its challenges to me in future.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>To the family, I say this with all my heart-words are poor comforters. A heart knows its own sorrow. But take solace in knowing that Antoo lived a life full of love, generosity, and meaning. He touched lives in ways that will never fade, and his legacy will live on through all of us who were blessed to know him. May God grant you all strength in this difficult time, and may Antoo&#8217;s beautiful soul rest in eternal peace.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>Note: Adapted from <\/strong>social <strong>media, with <\/strong>a <strong>special <\/strong>request <strong>from <\/strong>&#8220;Pormoll<strong>&#8221; <\/strong>Management.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>By Agnelo A. S. Fernandes<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A tribute to my friend Mr. Tony Dias&nbsp; As always, those early morning calls that come outside of normal hours carry&nbsp;with them a quiet sense of unease feeling that something is not right. That Tuesday morning was no different. The<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3571","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-pormoll"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3571","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3571"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3571\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3576,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3571\/revisions\/3576"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3571"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3571"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.stsebastianaquem.com\/web\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3571"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}