A Friend Has Gone
April 14, 2019 was a usual Sunday off. It was Palm Sunday and in the afternoon, my sister and I were butting heads on who goes to prepare for church first since everyone was too lazy to do anything in a scorching hot day. The morning was just a blur; I don't even remember if I had lunch.
But I would remember the moment I saw that post in my news feed from one of my classmates from college, how I frantically called one of my closest friends and desperately hoping that I was stupid enough to misunderstand what the post meant, and how the world stopped just by hearing three words: Yes, it's true.
One of my best friends died on April 14, 2019. She was 31.
Death is a reality, but the death of a friend at this point in our lives just doesn't make sense. Thirty-one – an age when a person starts to figure things out, or at least try to. It's a time to work hard and play harder, a time for milestones and mistakes. At 31, some people have started their own families, bought their own cars or houses, or embarked on journeys - long and short, here and abroad. It's that point in life when we can finally tell the younger ones "I told you so" and ironically, hear the same line being said by folks from the generation before us.
Our thirties was a time to celebrate, not to mourn.
I met Marco when we were sophomores, both taking up a degree in Mass Communication. It didn't take a long time for us to feel comfortable due to her knack of striking pleasant and interesting conversations and perhaps my occasional sense of humor. We also both loved to read and watch movies, although the genres we were engrossed in did not necessarily match all the time. We both aspired to be writers and looked forward to a day when we could finally credit even just one piece of literature to our name. That was 2006 – one of the simpler times we yearn to revisit now.
We would continue to be classmates and friends throughout college. She was one of my frequent collaborators and teammates in group activities. No matter how difficult college was – with all those projects, presentations, and exams that we pulled all-nighters for – Marco always seemed to know what to do, what to do next, or what to do if all else fails. Even in our group of friends, she was the optimistic one and she almost always kept a cool head. She was our mediator and negotiator inside and outside classes.
After college, I slowly lost touch with my friends. Life happened in the past ten years and those days in college with them were just pleasant memories overshadowed by work and personal dilemmas. However, Marco and I didn't lose communication in the past decade. We'd chat once in a while to catch up. Once every other year, we'd meet up and spend hours talking – jumping from one coffee shop to another – until the end of mall hours. Aside from the mandatory "How have you been lately?", we'd often share the most recent film we've seen or the music we've been listening to lately. She'd invite me to join her hiking, but I would always decline. (Being a klutz that I am, she'd probably be taking me to the hospital before we even take our first gulp of water.) We'd talk about our friends and what they've been up to, our families and personal struggles, then scoff at the topic of relationships. While she was the dating type and overly encouraged me to test the waters, it wasn't our cup of tea.
Our most recent meet up was last December, before the end of the year. We talked about going out of the country to scratch one off of my 29-before-30 goals. I told her I recently learned how to drive and promised that the next time we'd be going to the countryside for a quick getaway, we wouldn't be taking the bus anymore. She also boasted that her cooking skills had improved a ton - pesto pasta being her staple dish - and that she would cook for me someday. These were a few of the things we planned together which will now remain as what-might-have-beens.
How your warrior heart failed you this time, I would never understand.
Dude, you were gone too soon but I can attest that you have accomplished so much in 31 years. You climbed mountains, got lost in the fictional worlds of the books you've read and the films you've watched, and allowed your soul to be filled by music and art. You were a loving daughter and sister, a compassionate colleague and the best friend anyone could ever ask for. Until the end, you made a way of re-connecting all of us from Batch 2009 and you made sure that I had a shot to fall back in to the friendships I fell out of in the past years.
I owned every second that this world could give
I saw so many places, the things that I did
With every broken bone, I swear... You lived.
But I would remember the moment I saw that post in my news feed from one of my classmates from college, how I frantically called one of my closest friends and desperately hoping that I was stupid enough to misunderstand what the post meant, and how the world stopped just by hearing three words: Yes, it's true.
One of my best friends died on April 14, 2019. She was 31.
Death is a reality, but the death of a friend at this point in our lives just doesn't make sense. Thirty-one – an age when a person starts to figure things out, or at least try to. It's a time to work hard and play harder, a time for milestones and mistakes. At 31, some people have started their own families, bought their own cars or houses, or embarked on journeys - long and short, here and abroad. It's that point in life when we can finally tell the younger ones "I told you so" and ironically, hear the same line being said by folks from the generation before us.
Our thirties was a time to celebrate, not to mourn.
I met Marco when we were sophomores, both taking up a degree in Mass Communication. It didn't take a long time for us to feel comfortable due to her knack of striking pleasant and interesting conversations and perhaps my occasional sense of humor. We also both loved to read and watch movies, although the genres we were engrossed in did not necessarily match all the time. We both aspired to be writers and looked forward to a day when we could finally credit even just one piece of literature to our name. That was 2006 – one of the simpler times we yearn to revisit now.
We would continue to be classmates and friends throughout college. She was one of my frequent collaborators and teammates in group activities. No matter how difficult college was – with all those projects, presentations, and exams that we pulled all-nighters for – Marco always seemed to know what to do, what to do next, or what to do if all else fails. Even in our group of friends, she was the optimistic one and she almost always kept a cool head. She was our mediator and negotiator inside and outside classes.
After college, I slowly lost touch with my friends. Life happened in the past ten years and those days in college with them were just pleasant memories overshadowed by work and personal dilemmas. However, Marco and I didn't lose communication in the past decade. We'd chat once in a while to catch up. Once every other year, we'd meet up and spend hours talking – jumping from one coffee shop to another – until the end of mall hours. Aside from the mandatory "How have you been lately?", we'd often share the most recent film we've seen or the music we've been listening to lately. She'd invite me to join her hiking, but I would always decline. (Being a klutz that I am, she'd probably be taking me to the hospital before we even take our first gulp of water.) We'd talk about our friends and what they've been up to, our families and personal struggles, then scoff at the topic of relationships. While she was the dating type and overly encouraged me to test the waters, it wasn't our cup of tea.
Our most recent meet up was last December, before the end of the year. We talked about going out of the country to scratch one off of my 29-before-30 goals. I told her I recently learned how to drive and promised that the next time we'd be going to the countryside for a quick getaway, we wouldn't be taking the bus anymore. She also boasted that her cooking skills had improved a ton - pesto pasta being her staple dish - and that she would cook for me someday. These were a few of the things we planned together which will now remain as what-might-have-beens.
How your warrior heart failed you this time, I would never understand.
Dude, you were gone too soon but I can attest that you have accomplished so much in 31 years. You climbed mountains, got lost in the fictional worlds of the books you've read and the films you've watched, and allowed your soul to be filled by music and art. You were a loving daughter and sister, a compassionate colleague and the best friend anyone could ever ask for. Until the end, you made a way of re-connecting all of us from Batch 2009 and you made sure that I had a shot to fall back in to the friendships I fell out of in the past years.
I owned every second that this world could give
I saw so many places, the things that I did
With every broken bone, I swear... You lived.
Know that I will always remember you as the girl with the hearty laugh, the teammate one can always depend on, and the friend who has left a hole in my heart.
RM
P.S. Please keep one last secret for me. Save your scolding until we meet again.
RM
P.S. Please keep one last secret for me. Save your scolding until we meet again.
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