Love You, Lolo Ben.

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Today I feel like a scared little girl. Now that Lolo is gone from where I can see him, I have to grow up. This fear will pass, I know. Loben (as Myla called him) and Lola have blessed me with the gift of strength and practicality, knowing that life is always made of change. We can't avoid this stuff, so we might as well meet with it -head on, guns a-blazing.

On my yearly visit, when it came time to say goodbye, Lolo always ended our trips the same way. One of the last things Lolo always said to me, was, "You know I hate long, emotional goodbyes. Just kiss me on the cheek and know you will see me again." And I didn't dare look back at him, until I knew I was out of his sight. I always felt a little bit stronger every time I did it. One time, I looked, and he was looking too, with wet eyes, and I pretended not to see. Even though, in the back of my mind, I knew one day, this would come.

(deleted letters to family members)

I wanted to write something profound and exquisite about a great soldier, journalist, a great mentor, editor-in-chief, boss, and writer. I wanted to write an epic story with special effects and CGI, and fireworks and a 21 gun salute, and a procession and parade and LARGE headlines, and a day of mourning and a holiday, but this isn't how I feel.

Instead, my heart is heavier than it ever has been my whole life. I have cried some quiet tears, while I think about him. I think about our talks about life, and love, and work, school, politics, and the mornings when he got ready for work and we listened to Botticelli and Pavarotti. I think about soft bread and butter and coffee and piles of pineapple that made our lips itch. And anything he saved in a napkin from a luncheon he had the previous day. Im thinking of fried eggs for breakfast and how I ate the yokes and he ate the whites, and our egg system: if he got there first he'd leave the yolks for me, if I got there first, I would do the oppsosite- eat the yolks and save the whites. I think of his uncanny ability to make me laugh in the face of adversity, and to never be afraid of people. Also he taught me to depend on other people for something either.

I never told you about the one time, at the airport, I DID look back, Lola was crying, and Lolo had tears in his eyes, (although he told me later that it was allergies.) And one of the very last things he told me (besides jokes about everything) on our last visit, (he was sick and I looked worried)

"Never mind, it's all part of life. Can't change that, I just don't want to be ugly and drooling on a rocking chair like some of those old people you see. Just shoot me instead." And we shared a laugh over it. I'm glad, my dearest Lolo, you are the handsomest, non-drooling Lolo in the face of the earth, and I will never forget you. Thank you so much.


Love to you all,

Melissa, Andy, Myla & Emily


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http://www.balitapinoy.net/journal/599238/EXEDITOR_OF_MANILA_BULLETIN_DIES