FPJ's Death

A mass for FPJ was going on as I turned on the TV. At the last part of the mass, his widow was called upon to give out her last words of gratitude. I was moved to tears as she delivered her words. She chose to dedicate her speech to the Lord Almighty.

While showing his funeral march, the TV networks inserted interviews of his friends and family. All were saying the same thing, on how great he was, his generosity, all describing him as a man with a big heart.

I'm no FPJ fan. I did not vote for him last election. I did not watch any of his movies. I didn't care about him, not until his death and funeral have made it in every headlines.

FPJ's death reminded me of how self-centered I am. Everything I did was for my own happiness only. Yes, I know I have been a good friend at some point, but only to those who are good to me. Yes, I do acts of kindness, but only if I'm in the mood. No, I don't rejoice over someone's misery, but if that someone happens to be my so-called not-so-friend, I'd have the tinge of satisfaction and my mind saying "serves you right! B*tch". I have not violated any of the 10 commandments, well except for the part where it says to remember the Sabbath day.

In his death, I started reflecting about my life. 24 years... where have all the years gone? What have I achieved? How do I rate as a daughter, as a sister or as a friend? Have I been a good Christian? What do I tell God if He asked me about my accomplishments?

FPJ's death turned out to be a realization for me. That life is short. That life without compassion for others is meaningless. That the real meaning of giving and helping is an act that does not expect something in return. That it's not too late to start.

FPJ's death wanted to pass on a message to me - that I should start living.