In Memoriam: Rue Ann "Jagurl" Salvador

January 1, 1979-August 18, 2008

A confidant.

An adviser.

A counselor.

A friend.

A girlfriend.

A best friend.

A sister.

A daughter.
A loved one.

These are but a few descriptions of Jagurl in our lives. She has even been more than the designation.

Jagurl was an extraordinary person who had a knack in making friends. I got acquainted with her in the company I'm working at right now. We were transferred from different accounts to a newly opened Line of Business (LOB) in a Sales/CS account. I was a newbie in this call center industry and I was only a week old in my previous account. I was nervous to take calls & terrified by the fact that I have not fully internalized my product knowledge. She was a veteran. At that point in time I was somewhat standoffish. I only talked to my batchmates who were transferred along with me. I couldn’t forget how she started talking to me & making me feel comfortable. She was an initiator, a proactive type of person—especially when it comes to friendships. She was thoughtful & very sensitive to one’s feelings.

Eventually we became good friends. We had a great time being team mates in the first part of the LOB we pioneered in. I learned from her. She was a very good communicator. With that talent, I looked up to her & did my best to communicate with my callers in the same way that she did. I had the opportunity to listen to her calls many times and her callers just loved her. She knew how to build rapport in a timely manner. She brought gladness to her calls the same way she brought sunshine to the team.

She was a happy person—someone you can take on to brighten up any gloomy day. She can also be a wacky kind of individual. She can take you out of depression & bring you to a totally different world of excitement & fun. She was much uncomplicated—very simple, yet she could always dress up in style, & can be classy. With that, however, you could notice her innocence to subjects carnal in nature. She was a very religious person. She valued spirituality in a different level—a higher level than those who share the same lifestyle. She employed life with great sensibility, maturity, & responsibility.

She did not deserve the kind of passing she stumbled upon. Those cruel bandits didn’t have to kill her. She died in the arms of cold blooded, selfish individuals who disparaged her plans, obligations, & loved ones—let alone the value of her life.

We see and hear about crime all over. Murders, fatalities, all manner of horrible exploits flash through media every day of our lives—even accidents that involve the loss of thousands of lives. Every time we see the remains of the victims & reactions of those left behind, we feel an affinity with them. We feel for them. We ultimately pray that none of the same nature will happen to our loved ones.

If it does happen, even to a beloved friend, it can be as heartbreaking as losing a dear family member: painful & distressing. Once you hear the news, you wouldn’t believe such brutality would occur to someone we dearly love. At times like these, we come to realize how subtle life is—that in one quick & small moment, it can be taken away from us. How evil are those perpetrators who played in being god in taking away somebody else’s life. They didn’t have the right to do so.

It was Edwin Markham who said: There is a destiny which makes us brothers; none goes his way alone. All that we send into the lives of others comes back into our own.

Those who did this merciless act to Jagurl will have no where to run. If their conscience had been numbed with their repeated commission of crime, they will surely be pursued by life’s boomerang.

Speaking about the subject, the apostle Paul in Romans 13 discusses that this type of crime can not be set aside. In verse 4 he explained about God’s avenging authority: that He “executes wrath upon him that does evil”.

We, the friends and family whom Jagurl left behind, can only be consoled by the fact that she had already passed on to a better life. She lived a life of principle. She feared & loved God & devoted a considerable portion of her life demonstrating that love. In modern scripture found in the Doctrine & Covenants 42:46, the Lord said: And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them.

I couldn’t even bear to imagine the details of how Jagurl died. It must have been physically grueling and painful; but I know as soon as her spirit left that mortal body, a feeling of sweetness & joy enveloped her soul as she was taken back to God who gave her life.

Jagurl had finished her earthly journey and has moved on to the next sphere in the eternal scheme of things. We are all part of this journey together. We were born, as was Jagurl, to experience mortality—to obtain physical bodies & to prepare to meet God. Now that our dear friend, Jagurl had passed on, may we make her memory our inspiration to live our lives in such a manner that we may be worthy & be granted the privilege of meeting her again in the eternities. This reality, therefore suggests that that we consider the real meaning of “goodbye” as an interjection. It means “see you later”. The word “goodbye” or “farewell” appropriately, should be succeeded by phrases such as, “we’ll see each other again”, or “we’ll meet again, some time”.

However, no matter how we look at it, the word “goodbye” is a sad word. I would rather look at it the way Tasha Yar of Star Trek: Next Generation, explained it—she said: Death is when we exist only in the memories of others. So this is not goodbye, but good memories.

Good memories, Jagurl! We love you. We will miss you. We shall see each other again.

Mother, I love you.

My mom is a never-ending song in my heart of comfort, happiness, and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune. – Graycie Harmon

Not too long ago, there was this church filmstrip called “I’ll Build You a Rainbow”. I used to have the story memorized. It was about a little boy named Jamey and his mother. I came to love this story as I likened the little boy to myself. Both our mothers died when we were 11 yrs old.

(Read story at http://anchoredbygrace.com/heartstrings/families.htm)

The story talked about Jamey’s mom having all the time in the world for him as compared to other moms who were busy with their “fashion shows & bridge parties”. She was home with him. I remember when I was growing up, my mother stayed home with me. She was a homemaker. My dad was already retired from the Navy when I was born. I never had to miss my parents’ company while growing up.

My 11th year in life was notable as this was the time my mother got sick and died. The same happened to Jamey’s mom. He was called home from school one day and he was surprised to see an ambulance parked in the driveway. When he went in the house, he saw his mom lying on the bed. He had a moment with her. Jamey did not understand as to why it had to happen. He said, “mom you can’t die”. His mom replied, “It’s ok Jamey. I have been with you more in 11 years that most moms been with their boys in their whole lifetime”. He said, “I know mom. I know, but you just can’t die”. The mother reassuringly responded, “Jamey I want you to know a secret—it’s a special secret, and I want you to always remember it: ‘Families are forever’”!

I wish I also had a moment with my mom before she closed her eyes and eventually passed on. I was playing the piano at home one morning. She walked towards me and sat down on the rocking chair by the piano. I thought she fell asleep while listening to my music. I couldn’t wake her up. When the doctors came, they said she must be taken to the hospital. The next time I saw my mother, she was in a casket.

I remember it was my mother who sent me to piano school. She aspired that someday I can play the hymns at church. The church building in our hometown was still under construction when she died. It was a noble intention and for that, I am grateful that since then, I’ve been playing the piano at church. It has become a talent I humbly share. It also came handy when I was a missionary. There were some areas where wards or branches didn’t have pianists so I got to play during sacrament meetings.

Going back, the day my mother arrived in a casket, I went to our backyard. I looked up in the sky and I didn’t know what to think or feel. I didn’t understand. I went in the house by the kitchen door and my father was right there. He embraced me and cried, “your mother is gone”. I cried, too. Just like Jamey, I could feel my dad’s teardrops on my own cheeks. Then I remembered the secret. I looked up to him and said, “dad it’s alright, families are forever!”

My mother was out of my life’s scene early. It’s been 23 years since, but I still remember her as a kind and caring mother. I remember her kisses when I was hurt. She was always there to give me a hug every time I was in trouble. Of all the things she did, I will always be thankful for the things she taught me. She was my primary teacher at church. I learned about the Savior and my Heavenly Father’s love at her knees. My mother instilled my testimony of living prophets to me. I remember her testimony of President Kimball. She loved that prophet and she testified that when communicating with God, President Kimball could almost touch the Savior. From that testimony, I know now as I learned before that our living prophets and apostles are literally special witnesses, even eyewitnesses of the Savior.

My mother. I love her. I thank the Lord for giving her to me and letting her stay with me for those 11 years. I thank her for the love, the comfort, and the happiness, which became music to me, still playing in my heart. It’s been a long time. I can only remember a few things about her, but the tune unto which she sang her lullabies will always be a part of me. Ultimately, I’m grateful for the knowledge & assurance that I can be together with her again, forever.

“I'll build you a rainbow, way up high above. Send down a sunbeam, plumb full of love. Sprinkle down raindrops, teardrops of joy. I'll be happy as spring-time, watchin' over my boy”

Almost Perfect Getaway (A Photo Essay)

Bantayan Island, Cebu

QA Outing-Summer '08

Our seemingly endless wait for a ride back to Cebu and the woes that came with it almost ruined our Bantayan summer escapade. Toby became fidgety, as Ting remained somewhat calm as everybody else. Ann would rather ride a V-hire, yet Paul proposed that we head to Bogo and take our chances there for a bus ride. However, there is not anyone more concerned about the situation than Lainy, while Jan patiently grins buoyantly to keep the team together. There is exhaustion in Marc’s eyes as Cedie expresses his dismay about the matter. Mira smiles her braces out as she, too, tries hard optimistically to see the situation through.

Our QA team capped Summer 2008, and successfully froze the moments in Bantayan Island. We began our retreat leaving the office in a rainy Saturday dawn. The sun was still behind the clouds when we arrived at Hagnaya. It was drizzling. The weather was tolerable in such a way that it wasn’t warm yet it was far from being chilly. I loved it as I’m not the type of person who’d appreciate a hot weather. It takes the energy out of me and drains me eventually. I’m probably just getting old. I take on the vigor of my youthful friends.

I can’t recall when I last immersed myself in seawater. It was probably more than 10 years ago. I was actually waiting for Ting as she beseeched me prior to the outing that I should get wet and indulge myself. Juvi had to leave early. She, too, entreated me to take a dip. Both Ting and Juvi’s pleas were not without a condition. Afraid that I might lose them as friends (pun intended), regardless of how long it has been since I bathe in the beach, I had to go and took the plunge. Watching Lainy, Jan, Cedie, and Juvi from the terrace of our room, enjoying the Bantayan seawater, somehow gave me the yearning to join them. I did. I almost forgot how it felt like to be in the water that I’d never felt so cold in my life. It was still drizzling and the sun wasn’t out. I almost quit and wanted to run back to the resort room. The guys had to convince me to keep my body in the water. That, eventually, kept me warm. I was glad I stayed. I didn’t want to get out of it.

Ann, Marc, & Mira had their own adventure while we were reveling in the beach. Thanks to them we were fed well during the trip. I’m amazed at how these guys express initiative, take inconveniences & turn them into funny experiences. They had to go to Bantayan proper to buy food. Ann recounted that the ride to and from the place seemed endless. While in that seemingly incessant journey, imagine holding your breath naturally because of the poultry stink. You believe It will only take a few turns before you get a grasp of fresh air again. To your dismay, the poultry covered what seemed like 48 acres or 99% of your entire travel time. You have to accept the fact that you’ve taken in the foul-smelling air into your system and hope that it will refresh itself once you reach the fresh air zone.

We missed Juvi’s company overnight.

The Iron Chef Marc took care of our cuisine for dinner. We were all in the room after, having delightful exchanges until some, including I became heavy eyed. We thought to hit the sheets. Marc, Ting, & Toby remained awake until later. Marc said he took the dive before bidding Saturday goodbye.

During the night, I was awakened by the animated sounds of snoring. I found I wasn’t alone. Ann and Paul were awake. It didn’t take long before I found myself in my dreams again, leaving Paul absorbed by his video game, and Ann reading the silly text message of Gwendee. It was a fun-filled night just listening to the snoring episodes. To a musically inclined person like me, I thought there was music in the wheezing sound. (Pun intended)

Nothing compares to a Sunday Breakfast treat by Iron Chef Marc. The Tuna Cheese Omelet, the Hamonada, and the Tuna Omelet (without cheese this time). The presentation itself was half the treat! It was a good way to start the day as the sun was already out.

Ogtong cave resort was just beautiful! There’s a loch enclosed in a cave, which was the main attraction of the resort. There was also a fresh water swimming pool, aside, of course from the open beach.

Lunch was taken cared of by Tristan Beach Resort—our refuge for this getaway. Getting ready to move out was as eventful as our arrival. I lazed around gripping on the air conditioner, as I know it will be excruciatingly hot outside. We took off and headed for the pier. The same as how we came in, we RORO’d our way out of Bantayan.

What’s amazing from this outing is that despite some trouble or difficulty, the team’s diverse strengths came into play as the inconveniences were turned into positive experiences. Each member of the team, despite some display of frustration & exhaustion, rose above adverse moods and faced the trip head on.

Until the next QA outing, we just had a blast of exciting moments—enough to keep us going and to keep us strong as a team. From such familiarity as this, we come to know each other and bond—to strengthen friendships and create lasting memories.

We had fun, even in the bus ride on the way home.

In'Ting'ible (Intangible)

I was leafing through Friendster last night and I thought I’d look at those of my childhood friends. They aren’t all in cyberspace as some find the Internet as too innovative. Creating a Friendster account would be too much for them to do. There were profiles like those of Renelyn’s (Gleng), Rhodora’s (Doray), Desiree Lou’s (Lot), Arbel’s & Aida’s, Dulce’s that steered me to look back and reminisce. They all look too grown up as children make up their lives now. Looking at their photographs reminds me of the old days and how it used to be. I realize how long it has been since we basked in each other’s presence. I couldn’t help but become poignant as I glance at the images of their children. A little over 10 years ago, these kids weren’t even thought of.

After high school, and even in college, we believed we wouldn’t come to a point where we’d have to part ways. As everyone else did, we all had to find ourselves and make the most out of life, even if that involved separation from each other. They are my friends who I consider my family—friends who became part of my life that in a way, helped shape me into who and what I am.

My mother passed on when I was 11. The remaining years were spent with my father. My sister married when I was 14. I had no other family member my age to share my growing up years. My friends had to cover that part. They became my family.

Through the years I’ve met and became acquainted with new people who eventually became my good friends—friends from school, work, and church. I knew then as I know now that wherever I go, the people I meet and become close with will have one way or the other, an effect in my life. Moreover, each of them plays a role in my growth as an individual.

Meeting new people and making friendships are inevitable component of our existence. They come and go. Heaven knows when we will have the privilege of reunion again.

This time, one of my colleagues and a close friend will return to her beloved home in Cagayan de Oro. Ting has resigned from her job as part of the Call Center bandwagon for a little over four years. We took the same route on our way home. We spent jeepney rides (sometimes cab rides) together. To make a long story short, she, as did my acquaintances from before, took part of that wonderful and miraculous course of friendship with me. I count the making of friendship a miracle for even if the process consists of just a few months; the quality can be as good as friendships made in years. Ting is no different from my old friends. She knows me inside out as they do. We laughed & shared serious matters together the same way as those friends of mine and I laughed and shared tears years before. This is what makes life gratifying. This cycle of making friends and creating memories make most of our probation here in this world.

The process sees itself in action as Ting and I part ways. As always, I thank God for memories. The times shared—the meaningful discussions, the humor, the idle conversations—all are now sealed and wrapped up in the memoirs of life. Even if reality suggests that we see each other again in the future, the “call center friendship” episode has ended. I can never see Ting come in to the same door, sit on the same station, and eat at the same pantry again. Furthermore, I will never be sharing jeepney rides with her again on the same route.

We still have another getaway this coming weekend together with Ting and the team. After that, the tangible will turn into intangible. We can do nothing but hold on to memories—intangible as it is. Just as my relationship with my old friends became discolored through the years because of absence, the same may come to pass with my friendship with Ting. Nevertheless, just as with all my friends whom I haven’t seen for a very long time, sweet remembrances will be shared if God permits our paths to cross again.

I will forever be thankful for the friendship Ting and I made in the short time of knowing each other. I hope that moving forward the friendship will remain as sweet and meaningful as it is now. Ting, my friend, will always have a special place in my heart.

Rain

It was a delight to listen to the pouring rain last night. It’s been a very hot summer and we’d appreciate a downpour every now and then. I just wish that would happen during mid-day to make my rest more comfortable—to, in a way, bathe the oven!

A rainy day or a rainy night brings back many memories. Aside from the fun bathe in the rain when I was a kid, there was that elementary school nostalgia when I bring along my raincoat and have my teacher button my way to it since mom wouldn’t come pick me up.

Gone were the days of raincoats in high school. I brought along an umbrella. It’s funny how we show off our umbrellas and compare as to which was bigger, but it was always enjoyable when I get to share with friends, especially my crush (just pray that she didn’t bring along an umbrella).

I would rather not talk about my memory of rain in college. That took place in Manila, particularly in Espana in Sampaloc. A downpour would mean cancellation of classes as flashfloods rise faster than you think. You’d later find yourself stranded and if you want to go home, you have to trek your way through the dirty floodwaters. My birthdays always had to happen on a rainy day. We had to walk our way through the ‘swamp’ just to buy food to eat for the fete.

I lived through those days and looking back, I think I know & understand the importance of rain in my life. For me the rain is a symbol of God’s blessing. Moroni, a Book of Mormon prophet wrote about a certain “dearth” (famine) in the land when the people basked in wickedness (Moroni 9). “And it came to pass that there began to be a great dearth upon the land, and the inhabitants began to be destroyed exceedingly fast because of the dearth, for there was no rain upon the face of the earth” (v. 30). The famine occurred because of the absence of rain. Notice what happened when the people humbled themselves—only then did the Lord send rain. “And it came to pass that when they had humbled themselves sufficiently before the Lord he did send rain upon the face of the earth; and the people began to revive again, and there began to be fruit in the north countries, and in all the countries round about. And the Lord did show forth his power unto them in preserving them from famine” (v. 35). Because of the rain, “the people began to revive again, and there began to be fruit…..”. Notice the effect of rain among the people.

We all hear some people grumble about life’s difficulties. Sometimes the hardships lead to transgression of God’s laws. That is somehow extreme. Let us just say that because of life’s hardships, people tread on the paths of omission, not necessarily intending to disobey. While on that path, however, the things that are supposed to be done which aren’t done leads one away from God, thus the beginning of a more errant life. Then the “dearth” comes. There’s no more rain, just famine. People then die down and bear no fruit at all. Life becomes even less mediocre, if not useless and miserable.

When life becomes too unhappy and unfruitful, one would want rain to come as the Philistines of old (Gen. 27:28, Deut 33:13) to make their land fertile. Just as the dews of heaven come when we start to realize our mistakes and our lack, the rain follows when we stay on the path of recovery and become “sufficiently” humble. Then we become revived and once again, productive.

I want to think of rain as the gift of the Holy Ghost. We keep a dazzling “downpour” of this gift if we tread the paths of obedience & righteousness. Just as I remember how fun and joyful it was with my experience of rain in my youth, the same feeling vibrates as I remember the rainy days in my spiritual quest for happiness.