Thank you for creating such a wonderful human being in Jim.
He would help anyone, even those he remotely knew, whether they were students, Uber drivers, budding developers, aspiring musicians, members of the press, presidents or CEOs.
And he would help them with anything — whether they merely wanted help with their thesis, his opinion on the current state of the Philippine internet, to look for a job, to fix their phones, or advice on which Mac to get.
Thank you God for creating someone who showed us the value of sharing his talents and knowledge selflessly.
He brought people together and created communities — whether they are for Filipino musicians, for his classmates, for startups, or for the internet community in general.
You also made him so honest and so innocent.
He never knew how to lie. I would always say that all I had to do was stare at him, and he would admit he ate lechon.
He would wonder why people would act meanly towards another. He could never understand office politics. He hated gossip, and would make me sermon whenever i would participate in such.
Thank you God for creating someone so intelligent and yet so humble.
Whenever he will be on TV, he wouldn’t tell a single soul. People will just find out and tell him about it.
And he would always be so shy to ask favors, even from his classmates. “Baka I don’t matter to them …” he once said.
At work, he would usually be one of the smartest and the most logical. But like in a typical office setting, there would be obstacles and debates. He would say his mind, and if his opinion is rejected, he would leave it at that.
He valued peace and harmony over anything else. He would simply resume whatever he is working on like a dutiful soldier.
Thank for for making Jim show everyone how to be curious.
He loved seeing the world. I was the opposite. I was contented to stay home, clean the house, take care of the household. Him, on the other hand, would always want go everywhere, even if it’s just a walk in the neighborhood.
He would take pictures of his mini adventures, and share them to me (and social media) as soon as he gets home.
Thank you for making Jim show me how to love like a child.
He was always insecure on how to show people he cared. “I don’t know how,” he would always say. “Is this what I’m supposed to do?”
He would ask me the weirdest questions “What does an uncle usually give to nephews and nieces for Christmas? Do you think Byng and Jojo will go if I invite them to lunch?”
The same with his team. Years ago, I asked if he would give pasalubongs to his team in Smart. He got rattled. “Oh I’m supposed to give pasalubongs!” From that point onwards, he would make giving pasalubongs a project.
Once he even got hurt because I got the chocolates that he was supposed to give Vida and Nim. I thought he wouldn’t mind, because they looked like cheap chocolates. I only knew later on that he actually gave a lot of thought into choosing them.
When we first got Booger, he would watch a lot of Ceasar Millan videos. And when he found out that we were supposed to walk a dog every single day, that’s what he did. Even in the pouring rain.
Months before Gabby was born, he would read books and take down notes. He wanted to be the best father in the world. He read about the benefits of breastfeeding, and did everything in his power to make sure that I breastfeed, even driving for hours to look for donor milk when my milk ran low.
He would wake up in the middle of the night for Gabby. He would feed her, change her diapers, read her books.
And he became the person who could always make Gabby laugh. For some reason, Gabby reacted so naturally to his childlike innocence. Gabby would coo, would smile, and would copy him. He was her playmate and her teacher.
He also loved me with the same childlike innocence. He would accompany me anywhere, because as he said, “I heard that’s what husbands do.”
He would give me flowers even if I repeatedly said it was a waste of money. He would drag me to our anniversary dinner, open the doors, hold my hand, and have someone take our picture.
He would always be rattled if there’s anything which made me sad or angry. He would do anything and everything to make it up to me. And more.
Whenever I say he was the perfect husband, I say it with no exaggeration. He truly was.
Dearest God, I also want to ask for your mercy. Jim would always say I was a better wife to him than he was a husband.
That’s not true. He actually was the better spouse.
I was too busy worrying about our daughter’s future, about myself, about my own health, about ticking off our todo list, about making things clean and organized.
He was the one who did it right. He was the one who loved us wholeheartedly, without the need to plan, without any todo list, without any hang ups — the way he knew how. And, he was not only there for us, he was there for others too.
His health was already failing. Why didn’t I recognize or acknowldege the signs? I left everything up to him and his doctors. I could’ve screamed foul, I could’ve demanded more, I could’ve fixed his diet better, I could’ve objected, I could’ve made him live …
I didn’t do things to my expectations. And I’m sure not to Yours.
Please forgive me. My heart is full of regret. We’ve been together for 16 years, and for some reason, the only things that I remember are all the things I should’ve done for him.
I humbly ask for your forgiveness. Only then can I forgive myself.
Is Jim in heaven with you?
If not, once again, I’m begging for your mercy. I beg of you to cleanse him of his sins bring him to heaven with you.
Please let him be with Toni, with his parents, and all the people he loved who have passed before him.
Could you tell him I love him? I would always say it. But now I wish I said it more.
Jim always said he was so lucky to have me. I’ve would always retort that it wasn’t true — that I was the lucky one to have him.
And for that, dear God, I want to thank you. I was a sinner, and yet you loved me so much that you made someone like Jim enter my life.
Those were the best 16 years of my life. God, if 16 years is all you can give me in a lifetime, that’s more than what I deserve.