Since my only brother, Dr. Raymond Silverio Barba, would have been turning 57 next month, I find myself reflecting not only on the years we shared but also on the extraordinary life he lived.

Birthdays are occasions for celebration, but for our family, this one carries a bittersweet feeling. Since his passing in 2024, there has been a void that can never truly be filled. Yet, there is also immense gratitude for having known and loved a man whose life was dedicated to serving others.

We were not close when we were growing up. We were always fighting over food and bed space when we shared a bed as kids. But all changed when our mom passed away. Since then, we have become close. He became a friend, a confidant and an inspiration.

While many people measure success through wealth, titles, or recognition, he measured it through the number of lives he could help. As an orthopaedic oncologist, he viewed medicine not merely as a profession but as a calling.

He believed that healthcare was a right and that every patient, regardless of social status, deserved compassion, dignity, and the best care possible. That was why he didn’t subscribe to mixing medicine with business.

What made him truly special was his unwavering commitment to the poor. He often went beyond the duties expected of a doctor. Many who sought his help had little or no means to pay, yet he never turned them away. He understood that illness does not discriminate between the rich and the poor, and he devoted much of his life to ensuring that those with the least resources would not be deprived of medical attention.

I remember how patients, including our relatives, who came to his wake spoke of him not only with respect but with genuine affection. They knew that he cared. He listened to their concerns, reassured them during difficult times, and treated them as human beings rather than simply medical cases. For countless families, he was a source of hope when they needed it most even if he himself was undergoing dialysis three times a week and frequently had to go to the hospital because the fistula got infected.

His legacy extends far beyond the clinic and hospital. It lives on in the many lives he touched, the communities he served, and the young people he inspired to pursue service above self. The gratitude of his patients, colleagues, and friends remains a testament to the impact he made during his lifetime.

As his birthday nears, I cannot help but miss him. I miss our conversations, his wisdom, his laughter, and his sense of humor. I miss knowing that I could always count on him. The passage of time may soften the pain of loss, but it does not diminish the love we feel for those who have gone ahead of us.

Today, instead of dwelling solely on his absence, I choose to celebrate his life. I choose to remember a brother who lived with purpose, served with compassion, and left this world better than he found it. His work among the poor reminds us that true greatness is found not in what we accumulate for ourselves but in what we give to others.

Happy birthday, bro. Though you are no longer with us, your legacy of kindness, service, and love continues to inspire all who were blessed to know you.