The passing of icons

Michael Jackson is dead. So is Farrah Fawcett. Everybody knows them because they were world icons.

Nancy Q is dead. I was informed about her death days after she was buried.

You may ask, Nancy Q who? I say, you don’t know Nancy Q. Only my high school classmates know or remember Nancy because she was an icon in our remote smalltime high school during our time.

Nancy was beautiful. She was the corps sponsor of our CAT Corps. In those days, CAT sponsors came from the lower years because all fourth year students were required to take up CAT. But in the case of Nancy, the standing policy was waived because she was too beautiful to become an ordinary cadette.

Au-au, Janet, and I visited her house in Barangay Hibolo, Janiuay, near the Suage Bridge. We met her husband and her siblings. We were informed that Nancy died of cancer. In her early years, she worked with Meralco in Pasig where she met her husband who was a lineman. She also had worked briefly abroad. Nancy and her husband had a son, now a first year Aeronautics student. Until she died, Nancy was still beautiful and sexy.

Other classmates had also gone to the great beyond. They may not be icons. Nevertheless, their passing could mean the passing of an age.

Nestor G, our class Third Horable Mention and the one we called in high school as Mr. Wordpower because of his penchant for bringing to class that book most of the time and embellishing his sentences with never-heard-of terminologies all the time (In our Biology class, he described a skinny squid as svelte. Mr. Mina, our teacher, could not decide on the appropriateness of the word as he immediately feigned going to the CR but actually rushed to the library to look for the meaning of svelte.), also died of cancer. In February of the year he died, he came back to Iloilo. He told us he worked as a religious preacher. Together with classmate Taling L and another local preacher, we visited classmate Jorge A, a former seaman who was paralyzed from the chest down. They intended to pray over Jorge. Taling and I went with them because we were informed we would stay only for 30 minutes. The pray over started at 5:30pm. At 6:00pm, they were still reading the scriptures. I was sleepy. Taling was bored. At 7:00pm, they were still reading. I was in and out of deep slumber, they thought I was meditating with them. But, in truth, I only got out from sleep during the times when Taling gave my left leg a kick. Her Lucifer look at me hinted that she wanted us to leave and quick. At 8:00 pm, they were chanting something. My left leg felt like it was about to break. And Taling was seething like hell. At 8:30pm, my left leg couldn’t stand it anymore. Taling was kicking like a demonic horse, I thought I saw horns growing on her forehead. So I told the two preachers that I still have an appointment. And Taling seconded that it was already dark, and I still have to drive to the city. I limped to my car. And Taling vowed never to go out with me again. After a few days, Nestor asked me through text to gather all our classmates because he wanted to meet them. I texted back some excuses because I thought it was another prayer meeting and my classmates would bury me alive because the classmates I knew were not the type who would qualify as members of CWL, CFC, or any church orgs. So Nestor went back to Manila without meeting his other classmates and without us knowing he was suffering from terminal cancer. Three months later, his family informed us that he died in a hospital in Manila. I was so guilty, I went to church everyday for one week.

Noel A died in his sleep, or possibly cardiac arrest. He was a classmate since Grade 1. Early on, he was one of the biggest in class. In death, he was still a gigantic hulk, his beer belly was protruding at the top of the coffin. His wake was at his sister's house in Bgy. Pungtod.

Irene M-C was an unassuming and shy classmate. She died of complications after she was hospitalized for high blood. She was a barangay social worker and was the mother of Denver, an iconic pugilist who is currently World Boxing Council minimumweight title holder (see the YouTube video) and was recently honored ala Pacquiao by politicians in Iloilo.



Ninfa P just came from the hospital due to a lingering illness. Then the flood brought by typhoon Frank nearly submerged their house. She died of exhaustion after she helped evacuate their belongings. We thought though that she was ready to die because she was a deeply religious woman. She was an office worker in the local Catholic church. So, during the funeral, I informed my classmates to also be ready for the eventuality that we reach our time. I asked them to become members of the church orgs, go to mass regularly, and stop wearing sexy dresses. As de facto class president and life-time class valedictorian, I was always obeyed without question by my classmates. But this time, each one approached me, felt my temperature, and asked whether I had a fever. Others offered me food. They thought I was delirious because of extreme hunger.

Rowena C also died of cancer. She was also beautiful and a CAT sponsor. We hired Celso’s jeep and went to her family’s house in Guimbal the day before her burial. Haydee M-A and Toto B-M led the prayers.

Another cancer victim was Luisa V. We went to her wake in her sibling's house in Bgy. Bolong, Sta. Barbara. Colay C was there because Luisa was her barkada in high school. Their barkada also included Bella B. All were marikulkol and gwapahon.

Still another cancer victim was Cecilia T. We remembered her in high school as slim, gwapa, maputi and suplada. When she was alive, she had never attended class reunions. But she had remained slim, gwapa, maputi, very suplada, and laon.

But the first wake I went to for a classmate was that for Renilda A. She was the 4th year section 1 muse. She too died of cancer. She died when we were still in first year college. She was wearing her pink graduation dress in her coffin.

These were the classmates whose wake/funeral I attended.

I noticed that almost all the classmates who passed away died of cancer. Could this be an indication that we had improved economically in life? I said this because in our impoverished community, only the few rich people who can afford doctors died of cancer. Sila mga astig gid. Where I came from, surhanos cured even the most serious illnesses and all the people I knew either died naturally of old age or they died mysteriously of hiwit (black magic or witchcraft).Weird.@