It seems that whenever I post here, something dreadful happens. This is the third time I am posting a death in my blog. This time, her name is JaGurl.
I knew her from work. Worked with her for 2 years. She laughed. She cried. She got angry. She dressed up, wonderfully and unabashedly flashy. She was a good friend.
I remember, distinctly, as if it just happened yesterday -- she was still alive.
One fond memory I have of her is when one day, we ate lunch in Chef di Angelo in Glorietta. It was not planned; it was just another impulse of the day. She was the one who instigated the whole trip to the mall after work. She had her camera with her. I wore a blue-green turtle neck long-sleeved shirt. She was trigger-happy with the camera. I was hungry because I couldn't eat too much within our shift; my shirt was body-hugging.
Then, lo and behold, JaGurl asks us to eat in Chef. I couldn't resist! It was one of the best restaurants, in our opinion. While waiting for our food, she took pictures of our group. She took a picture of the two of us because she said that my eyes looked so good. Apparently, she thought I had Spanish eyes; my eyes are almond shaped in reality.
The next day, she gave us prints of the pictures she took.
That was in 2006.
Now, she just smiles in my memory. In the picture she took of us, she was smiling. I was in my usual tempting aura. I was so fond of that picture. Now, I can't look at it without feeling sad.
