From Yoy

Everyday, since I heard about the terrible fate of my dear friend, Jewel Francisco, I've been glued to my computer, waiting for some good news.

I hit the refresh button of the TVNZ website after every half hour, even during the wee hours of the night, just to check if they have any breaking news with a headline that would read: SURVIVORS AT THE CTV BUILDING FOUND! And my friend's name will be highlighted in all its glory, and each and every one of her friends will jump for joy, screaming in great delight: "May Himala!!!"

We would all fulfill our promises to her, which we religiously posted on her Facebook wall since that terrible day, thank the Lord for such a miracle, and ask her to tell the tale of her survival. I'm pretty sure it would make a heck of a story. One that could even be sold to Paramount Pictures, FOX, or to National Geographic's Seconds Before Disaster, if not to any other Hollywood producer.

Days will be significantly better, hyped by Jewel's return, and all again will be well. Her arrival will commence a reunion, no doubt. Hundreds will be in attendance, and comments such as "walanya ka, nag alala kame ng bonggang bongga sayo!" will be highly popular.

The cheerful spirit that usually surrounded her mother will be present once again. Her family and friends will be very thankful. People from the media will gather to sensationalize this news, until everything finally subsides, and life will go back the way they used to be. When everything was just fine.

Everyday, just like all those who loved her, I remained glued to the computer, waiting for some good news. Everyday, I didn't receive any.

Until one day, the New Zealand police advised her mother, Jovita Francisco, to expect the utmost worst. When I heard of this news, I broke down - hard. I was clinging on to a hope as thin as a strand of hair, anticipating for that miracle. And then this kind of news comes along. Whatever hope I was holding on to, whatever light I was trying to see, I lost it all. And for the better part of the week, I was just simply trying to get through the days, hoping that the pain this loss has caused would somehow, in someway, heal.

Jewel, or Meng as I lovingly called her, is like a sister to me. We may not be related by blood, but we sure are related by our heart and soul. During the most stressful and most challenging days of my life and I had to take charge of the family, Meng helped in lightening the burden for me. She would always say, "Yoy, pag may kailangan ka, wag ka mahihiya magsabi ah?" And she would give me words of encouragement or a token of sorts just to let me know that she always had my back. Her mere presence was already a strong reminder of that, and whenever she was around either to hang out or help out around the house, things became a little bit better.

She had planned and prepared on going to New Zealand for a year or so. Every chance I got, I tried to discourage her, and convince her to head for Singapore instead, where I am now working. I sort of had this plan in my head, where members of the AA, of which Meng and I are a part of, would be reunited in Singapore. We'd all live in the same house, or at least close to each other, and continue the better days we enjoyed back at home. I'm sure that would have been fun.

But as my mother would always say, God has a better plan for us than what we have for ourselves. And I guess this is what He had for Meng. Although I could not see or understand the "better" part in this situation, there really is nothing else I can do but accept what has happened, stay strong for my friend, and never lose faith.

Hope guides me. The same hope that guides most of her friends and family through the day, especially through those long sleepless nights. The battle is not over, and the fire in our hearts for our dear Jewel has not been extinguished.

Just the other night I dreamt about her. She told me "Buhay pa ko. Nasa church lang ako." Though I could not fathom whether this was a message from her, or my subconscious refusing to believe the cold hard reality, I'm taking this as a sign. A sign not to give up. No matter how optimistic the police in New Zealand are, as long as they haven't announced her name, or have proven her demise; as long as her mother and her family are staying strong, so should we. THERE IS HOPE. No matter how small, there is still hope.

And if, God forbid, the outcome of this trial isn't a happy one, I'm sure it's not the end. And by the grace of Meng, and the power of our Almighty Father, we shall see better days ahead.