In my meager Blog Archive there are 15 articles which I started to write in March, 2011.
Last July 17, 2011 I made a blog about a friend entitled “The Bravest Heart: a Tribute to a Friend”. This was 2 months after I visited my friend, Mario Castillo in Tiaong, Quezon in May, 2011.
Right after this article came out, I was swamped with a lot of PMs from many of my friends who were touched by Mar’s story. My heartfelt thanks to all of you.
Within 2 weeks of its publication, that blog dislodged both my top blog of the last 2 and a half months (What's the 3rd Most Visited Place in The Philippines [May 1, 2011]); as well as its close second (How It Feels to be in the “Pre-Departure Area” of Your Life [July 8, 2011]).
September 17, 2011 is the birth date of my mom. On this bright, sunny day death happened. Although it seemed more to me like death intervened. After years of medical complications, one after another, my friend Mario’s frail and wasted body succumbed. I was informed one day before burial date, set at 2 PM of Wednesday, September 21, 2011. So I had to travel 16 hours yesterday to spend the last 4 hours by his side before he was laid to rest.
I had known Mario for 22 years, requesting him to work for me at Speed Computer College in Sorsogon city as COO in 1997, when his diabetes caused him to be bed-ridden and sidelined from many of his activities. After about a year, he was well enough to return to his job in Manila. The school we helped reinvigorate rose steadily and in fact celebrated its 20th foundation anniversary last August, 2011.
We seldom saw each other or talked after 1998. But when I visited him last May, 2011, the few hours that we talked were pleasant and still full of hope. I did not realize it would be the last time I would see him alive.
Yesterday at 3 PM, after the mass, his daughter, Thea eulogized him by giving her insights to “Who is Mar Castillo?” She said her dad raised them in love and laughter. He was a father who did not impose but gave guiding words that taught them independence. I couldn’t agree more.
Laughter. You cannot be with Mar Castillo and not laugh. We really shared a lot of fun moments. This is not to say we had similar, compatible personalities. In fact we are opposites in many ways. He was an extrovert for the most part. He basked in the friendships he cultivated around him and was profligate in his expenses, spending prodigally, and often, recklessly. Most of all, he was a man of the world who was full of life.
Only a few of the closest people were at his funeral. But all of his 7 kids were there (6 natural, 1 adopted).
And so were his 5 wives (4 are moms of the 6 kids, 1 had no kid but made an adoption).
I know 3 kids and 1 wife personally. The rest I am meeting for the first now. I’m pretty sure they all have heard of me.
You see, Perry Auxillos is not only The Friend of Mario (caps supplied by me); I am the friend, primus inter pares. I think I am one of the few (if not the only one) who can connect the dots in the lives of Mario’s diverse family members at that funeral. This I say tongue-in cheek, because I know enough detail, as shared to me by Mar through the years of our association. With his passing, I know that this too will fade in my memory.
So what made us click as friends and thrive in our diversity though we were poles apart? Well, for one, I respected his intelligence. For example, he had a way of explaining theories in Physics in the simplest manner which even a laborer can understand. We were both handymen and liked working with our hands. But he had the talent of keeping things simple.
We liked to discuss constructing things that made life easier for others. Whenever I’m confounded by a construction methodology that might be too expensive, or involve too much manpower, or take too long, I will find time to discuss with him. He has the gift of analysis that breaks down complex situations into simpler ones.
I will remember Mario for the way he lived life to the fullest. He savored it with zest. Years ago, when I reminded him against driving intoxicated, he reassured me by saying: “Repa, Mind over Body!” In effect he was telling me not to worry because his mind was in control although his body was a bit tipsy.
When I saw him last May, 2011, as he rushed to me in a wheelchair with a foot amputated below the knee as a result of his diabetes, he shouted: “Repa, dati ang kawikaan ko – ‘Mind over Body!’; ngayon iba na.” In mischievous anticipation I asked: “ano na?”
He retorted: “Repa, I’m a Mind without a Body!” And with that he gave me a hearty laugh. Mwahaha. You cannot not love this guy.
In Memoriam, Mario Castillo, Tiaong, Quezon. 1954-2011. The Bravest Heart.
