PERSONAL NOTE: SAYING GOODBYE
I met her in her most ebullient. "Friends na tayo," (We're now friends) she declared with an infectious grin, without giving me time to ponder. I wasn't in anyway close to any of her friends. In fact, I was there as a favor for my brother. But like a breeze of pleasant wind, she became a friend. She didn't smile; she laughed. She didn't declare; she exclaimed! Her phone calls started like jovial puns and fiery flights of fancy. One day, she learned she was sick. We spoke less. I last spoke to her when she unexpectedly rang a couple of months ago - to seek advise for a TV series she was writing for, and to talk about her trip to Prague. The call bristled with hope and excitement. It lasted for 40 minutes, like she wasn't afflicted with anything fatal.
Last Saturday, she succumbed to breast cancer - in an unGodly time of 4:30 AM while people still dreamed of dreams.
Her decision to go the contentious alternative route took the air off her giggles and ultimately off her breath with so much anguish and pain. Cancer spreads even when you fight back. Imagine when you don't. There are still questions I couldn't help but ask; but it's all moot and academic.
The world is a less happier place without you. But I shall pray for you, my dear friend. May you have a safe journey to the world beyond. Your friends will sorely miss your laughter. I already do. Goodbye, Kune.