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A Requiem for Willy .- It seems like it was only yesterday that Bro. Willy died so suddenly. He was 51. He had just sat down to have dinner at the Megamall with May and their two teenaged girls, KD and Angel, when he suddenly felt he had better go and see a doctor at a clinic in the mall. KD, his eldest daughter, went along with him. When May thought it was taking a bit too long, she and Angel followed. Shortly thereafter Willy had what looked like a sudden heart seizure right there at that clinic. With May by his side holding his hand, Willy gazed out at May, a tear rolled out of his eye … and he was gone.
In the days that followed, a steady stream of relatives, friends, business associates, seminary classmates, priests, neighbors and all sorts of people came to grieve and condole. Most expressed not only great shock and disbelief but genuine loss that someone so young and so good would be taken away from them so suddenly for some inexplicable reason or circumstance. What was even more amazing is that many of these people kept coming back and coming back and staying – for hours on end. They shared common stories of how Willy touched their lives, how Willy somehow had time for each one of them, how good, kind, compassionate, gentle, patient and understanding he was, how he loved children especially.
Ang sabi po nila, you can tell the size of a ship by the waves it leaves behind. Willy was not a politician, a public figure nor some sort of a celebrity. And yet, there was never room enough for all the people who came to pay their last respects, who attended the funeral services, the cremation, up to the last funeral mass and trip to the columbarium. No less than a dozen priests insisted on concelebrating at the last funeral mass.
Willy’s sudden and unexpected death brought up once again the painful, almost cruel questions like why, why Willy, why so soon? And then the old refrain about having to learn to prepare for one’s own death because it comes we know not how or why or when… “like a thief in the night.” And then of course the inevitable caveat, who among us will be next…and when.
More importantly though, I believe that the questions we should really be asking and the lessons we should learn about Willy’s death should be about Willy’s life. Who was Willy, what did he do, what was so great or so good about him. What was his secret?
In all humility, I would like to propose that the lesson we should learn from Willy is what should be one of the greatest Christian virtues. It is in fact one of the greatest lessons that Jesus himself, the Son of God, if you will, tried to teach us.
When a religious decides and announces that he/she is going to give up sex and live a celibate life, that fact alone is considered heroic and admirable. When someone is able to work miracles, heal the sick, make the lame walk, turn stones into bread, that is considered spectacular, almost divine, and the person much admired as a living saint, or a prophet. When a young girl announces that she looked directly into the sun and saw it spinning, tens of thousands of people will rush to the place and build a basilica. When a smooth-talking preacher or TV evangelist is able to make people cry, repent, laugh, sing, and/or pick the pockets of the congregation at will, he becomes so popular he sets up his own church and political leaders, presidents, senators, congressmen will fall in line to pay homage and seek his endorsement.
Our Bro. Willy was not like that. He was so simple, so ordinary, so unspectacular that he would hardly be noticed in a crowd, especially in a group of boisterous, opinionated and irreverent xvds. He did not choose the more glamorous assignments, such as, standing there in front of everybody and delivering some fire and brimstone speeches, or decreeing some policy-making decisions like some chairman of the board of some imaginary global enterprise, or generally monopolizing the use of the microphone for everybody to sit up and take notice. Instead, he would choose the lowly, menial dirty jobs that few would take, such as, setting up the tables during xvd Friday meetings, clearing the tables, picking up the leftovers, stacking the chairs, serving at mass (usually an assignment for grade school kids). It did not help of course that he happened to be diminutive in size. But unlike many of his size who try hard to make up in aggressiveness what they lack in physical prowess, Bro. Willy was most unassuming, self-effacing, quiet, and, (if you’ll pardon the comparison) like most dogs with pedigree, even-tempered and great with the kids. In a word, Bro. Willy learned one of the greatest lessons of all. Humility.
Bro. Willy understood this lesson well. Like his father before him, Manong Guillermo Soriano, whom I knew quite well, was for all intents and purposes the sacristan mayor in their parish in Aurora Hill in Baguio City
This should also explain why Willy was so great with kids. He did not mind, indeed, he enjoyed having to go down to their level. How often I would observe him teasing Angel and pretending to get into some squabble with her as if they were of the same age. You would almost be tempted to chide him and say: “Willy, para ka namang bata.” Even in church where we would often go together on Sundays, I would see them engaging in all sorts of mischievousness just like some innocent 4-year olds. Afterwards when we would be having breakfast at McDo, Willy would invariably play with the styrofoam cups, plates, plastic spoons, forks, stirrers, etc. and make all sorts of figures with them just like any youngster would.
That was Willy. So simple. So unspectacular. So humble.
We who are trained to look up to and to watch out for the superstars, the celebrities, the moneyed or enormously successful business people and political leaders, we are liable to fail to notice guys like Willy. We who idolize, who thrill or get excited, fall over each other when we suddenly find ourselves in the same room with some TV personalities, well-dressed or distinguished looking individuals, we might just miss Willy, or Jesus in disguise.
Which brings me back to my main point. This is really more a tribute to May than to Willy who doesn’t need anymore tributes, having had the reward promised to those who learned their lesson well. Just as Mama Mary knew and recognized Jesus for who or what he really was, the Son of God, the Messiah, May found and recognized Willy for what he really was, a rare gem, a pearl of great value. May found Willy because she knew what to look for, where to look. It takes a particular sense of values for one to discover a guy like Willy. If you’re looking in the high places, among beautiful, glamorous, spectacular people, among the rich and famous, the high and the mighty, o kaya naman yun showbiz ang dating o namimigay ng pera, you’ll probably never find Willy.
The Gospels repeat one saying of Jesus more than any other: “Whoever wants to save his life will lose it but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” Lk.9:24
In the process of losing his life, Willy has found it. He has received “the peace that is not of this world.”
Rest in peace, Bro. Willy.
viyopineda wrote on Jul 24, '08
Brod James, I don't know Bro Willy but reading your "requiem for Willy" make me feel I knew him. Great piece Brod for a great person!
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My first brush with Willy was during our Cebu recollection aboard the Super Ferry in 1999. I remember how he made our bus ride less boring with his group dynamics exercises. My, how we came to love this husband & wife (loveable May) team builders and their wonderful presence and handling of group exercises in almost all of our recollections.
We were at Camp John Hay in Baguio in the summer of 2007 (April 23-26) when there was this mysterious knocking on our cottage window. "Kanina pa yan," my wife (Baby) said when I asked her if she heard the rapping sound. The following morning, I received a text message that Willy died the day before. I surmised that Willie, a Baguio boy like Kuya James, gave us farewell visit. Willy, I salute you. |
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