SARI SARI TALES was brought about by my curiosity... hearing about so much about blogs, i thought of creating one; my wanting to share . . . my thoughts, my experiences. So here it is.
I am not a professional writer, but my former boss actually said that i can write fairly well. Coming from her, it was rather inspiring. She was with Women's Journal as ed in chief for more than 10 years, and she should know better, di ba? Actually, Ka Romy (my personal astrologer) said that writing is really in my 2010 solar return. Anyway, SARI SARI TALES are mostly about personalities I've met, places, events I've been invited to, etc.. .
Please bear with me, I'm just a newbie in this kind of thing. But i sure hope you'll enjoy reading SARI SARI TALES! God loves us all!!!!
swayne n. cunanan
Monday, September 27, 2010
SST: Goodbye, Fur
My first attempt . . .I wrote this last August 23, 2010, a day after Fur died.
“Death comes like a Thief in the Night”. He died last night after several days in the local hospital. His grieving mother and his father, whose tears fell unheedingly, stood side by side, as they watched the doctors and the nurses trying their best to revive their eldest son. Both of them thinking that it was too soon. He was only 26.
Although he was the eldest of five children, Fur grew up in the care of his paternal grandmother, Mamang , in Tarlac. Mamang, who loved him dearly as if Fur was her own son, was so proud of him. He was intelligent, he was an achiever. . . His parents and siblings, who live in Dasmarinas, Cavite, were proud of him, too.
I don’t know him too well, but I remember Fur, to be reserved, very courteous, a loner. . . I only knew his real name when I asked his brother Louie, the spelling of his name. You see, I knew him as Fer. Without being told, I knew somehow that he's different. You see, in my line of work, I meet different kinds of showbiz people --- make-up artists, PAs, talent managers, handlers, fashion designers, and entertainment writers.
He used to go to our sari-sari store to buy cigarettes or buy his daily autoload. Until the end it was a standing joke between us that I cannot remember the last 4-digits of his cell number. “Okey lang po,” was what he used to say to me with a smile, maybe in deference to my age, my difficulty in remembering names and numbers. Sometimes he bought a bottle of soft drinks, which he drank while sitting in front of the store, smoking his cigarette and texting.
I didn't see him for several months, maybe because my work in Makati takes me away from the house the whole day, coming home late in the evening. The next time I saw him he was thinner, and looked like he’d just recovered from a bout of flu.That by looking at him whenever he came to buy his autoload, I thought that maybe, there is something wrong with his lungs. He stopped smoking, he told me. His shoulders were stooped, just like those who suffer from asthma. And I was not completely wrong. . .
Ironically, Fur worked as a Clinical Instructor in a well-known hospital in Makati, while studying his Masterals. Sir Serquinia, as he liked to be called, would be sorely missed by his former students. One of his former students even posted in his website his fond memories of her departed instructor.
The cause of Fur’s death was pleural effusion caused by pneumonia. In medical terms, pleural effusion is the collection of fluid in the space between the two linings (pleura) of the lung, and too much fluid impairs the ability of the lung to expand and move. Suffice it to say, further treatment was too late. He chose to suffer quietly---maybe he didn’t want his loved ones to suffer, too. He breathed his last with a smile on his lips, after hearing his father’s loving words of caring and forgiveness.
So long Fur, go in peace.
“Death comes like a Thief in the Night”. He died last night after several days in the local hospital. His grieving mother and his father, whose tears fell unheedingly, stood side by side, as they watched the doctors and the nurses trying their best to revive their eldest son. Both of them thinking that it was too soon. He was only 26.
Although he was the eldest of five children, Fur grew up in the care of his paternal grandmother, Mamang , in Tarlac. Mamang, who loved him dearly as if Fur was her own son, was so proud of him. He was intelligent, he was an achiever. . . His parents and siblings, who live in Dasmarinas, Cavite, were proud of him, too.
I don’t know him too well, but I remember Fur, to be reserved, very courteous, a loner. . . I only knew his real name when I asked his brother Louie, the spelling of his name. You see, I knew him as Fer. Without being told, I knew somehow that he's different. You see, in my line of work, I meet different kinds of showbiz people --- make-up artists, PAs, talent managers, handlers, fashion designers, and entertainment writers.
He used to go to our sari-sari store to buy cigarettes or buy his daily autoload. Until the end it was a standing joke between us that I cannot remember the last 4-digits of his cell number. “Okey lang po,” was what he used to say to me with a smile, maybe in deference to my age, my difficulty in remembering names and numbers. Sometimes he bought a bottle of soft drinks, which he drank while sitting in front of the store, smoking his cigarette and texting.
I didn't see him for several months, maybe because my work in Makati takes me away from the house the whole day, coming home late in the evening. The next time I saw him he was thinner, and looked like he’d just recovered from a bout of flu.That by looking at him whenever he came to buy his autoload, I thought that maybe, there is something wrong with his lungs. He stopped smoking, he told me. His shoulders were stooped, just like those who suffer from asthma. And I was not completely wrong. . .
Ironically, Fur worked as a Clinical Instructor in a well-known hospital in Makati, while studying his Masterals. Sir Serquinia, as he liked to be called, would be sorely missed by his former students. One of his former students even posted in his website his fond memories of her departed instructor.
The cause of Fur’s death was pleural effusion caused by pneumonia. In medical terms, pleural effusion is the collection of fluid in the space between the two linings (pleura) of the lung, and too much fluid impairs the ability of the lung to expand and move. Suffice it to say, further treatment was too late. He chose to suffer quietly---maybe he didn’t want his loved ones to suffer, too. He breathed his last with a smile on his lips, after hearing his father’s loving words of caring and forgiveness.
So long Fur, go in peace.
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