For Tata

Tata must be shocked in heaven that I volunteered to speak, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t take this opportunity to honor her and her friendship.

*
Together with many of us here, Tata and I were friends for a very long time. We were classmates in Woodrose since the 2nd grade and went to Ateneo together. She was always so lovely, but you couldn’t describe our friendship then as “close”.

That never stopped her, though, from going direct to the punchline. I remember having just graduated in NY where she had come to visit her sister, Trina. We were hanging out, and she asked me what my plans were. I said I wanted to move to Europe. Without batting an eyelash, she said “You’re trying to chase your happiness, Anita. You think your happiness is elsewhere. But you can find happiness wherever you are.”

So I stayed in NY for another 12 years.

*
It was after I retired from the NY corporate life and semi-returned to Manila that our friendship went on overdrive. For some reason, Tata took me under her wing and reintroduced me to the city — she introduced me to friends she thought I might find interesting, invited me to events, took me to her favorite places. But more than anything, we just taaalked — in person, when we were still able to, then in the last couple of years, via daily text or marathon phone calls that required several banyo breaks.

Since neither of us had children to raise or anything that resembled a real job, we had all the time in the world to navel-gaze. We overanalyzed everything.

Last month, I went to buy a pair of glasses. She said she wanted to shop with me from the safety of her apartment. So I sent her 30 selfies. Then she called and said, “Wait, Anita. I need the bigger picture. Are you buying A pair of glasses or THE pair of glasses? Because my choice of glasses will be different.”

“Well, I’m always looking for THE pair of glasses and have always been willing to plonk down a pretty penny for them, only to realize after a few months that THE pair of glasses had devolved into A pair of glasses. Which makes me go in search of THE new pair. So this time, I’m looking for THE pair of glasses. But cheap.”

*
We were both on an intellectual pursuit of what a meaningful life is. Our conversations were dotted with pocket philosophy quotable quotes:
“Tats, what do you think is the purpose of life — is it service and sacrifice as we’ve been taught or is it learning self love? Because to me, they are contradictory.”

“Well, Anita. The more you’re generous with yourself, the more you can be generous with others. When you find balance, you GIVE happily and it doesn’t FEEL contradictory.”

Even if she often answered with such wisdom and confidence, she, too, had her own struggles. One of them was setting boundaries because she gave so much. She texted: I don’t want to give aaallll my energy away to others anymore.

She’d celebrate the little victories: Anita — i did it, i declined the offer and wished them well.

Sometimes I’d bring in 3rd party opinion into the conversation in the form of messages from my angel books. We both had the same quirks, that way. “Hey Tats”, I’d start. ‘This is what the angels told me today: Your purpose is to find yourself, your own divinity, and truly discover who you are. Allowing your true self to come through is the greatest gift you can give humanity.’

*
Tata was my confessional. I told her everything. “Tats, you know i’m trying to be more generous in spirit, right? — but shiiit, i couldn’t help it. I blew up at someone today.”

She’d always be gentle, “Don’t be so harsh on yourself. That’s why there’s a difference between self love in a vacuum and self love in reality. Because in reality, being inis is normal and could even be a teacher.”

She was relentless in making sure i understood what she was saying. If i didn’t reply to her texts, she’d pester: Yoohooo. Hellooooo?

Tats, i’m watching Nadal win his 21st. Very important.

Fine. But we’re picking this back up tomorrow.

*
A couple of weeks ago, while i was getting my annual check up, she texted: Anita, how is this moment serving you?

I don’t know Tats but I’m waiting for my boobs to be squeezed.

I just want you to start looking at your life that way and be mindful of your motivations. Because maybe you’re living your life on autopilot without realizing that this moment isn’t serving you and your intentions anymore. And when you realize that’s happening, go live your life!

*
She was the Socrates, the gadfly, to so many of us. The angel who had so much time to listen, to guide us, to overanalyze for us. And who always forced us to look deeper.

*
The morning of her death, she texted: Want to chat? I was busy doing busy stuff that I missed a chance for my last life session with her. I often wonder what she would have said. If she sensed anything.

*
The morning after her death, in an effort to understand, I opened the angels book.
And I got a strong urge to text her:
Hey tats, i kid you not, this is what the angels told me today:. . .When you are in self-love. . . you bow your head in wonder at the beauty and divinity that is all around you. You beam love to those who were part of your life, and are no longer. You know all too well that you are all one and the same. You also know that the short time you shared physical space is honored and sacred. You say your goodbyes knowing all too well that you will always be connected, and your paths are woven with invisible golden strings of love. . . . When it is time to say your goodbyes, honor the ones who taught you, thanking them for showing you the way.

*
Thank you, Tats, with all all all of my heart. I will miss you forever.