This is an article I wrote in 2009 about my dear friend and foster brother, the late Capt Apollo Carandang, who died in a plane crash last February 24,2010.
My snappy foster brother, the late Capt. Apollo Carandang of Philippine Military Academy (PMA) Madarang class of 2003.
It was just a few months after we got reconnected and vowed to always keep in touch. In November 2009, he told me the sweetest news about being officially related and we will never be a part because he was going to marry my cousin, Faye. Carrie, You will always be remembered, my snappy foster brother and cousin-in-law. (Apollo Carandang, October 12, 1980-February 24,2010)
My friend is coming to town, he is a combat pilot now (fulfilled his dream) so did the rest of our KABERKS. Been five years since we were all together …enjoying each other’s company every day.
“Inubos mo na naman boodles ni Meds?!” Carrie exclaimed, laughing out loud as we talked on the phone last Wednesday night (thanks to Sun Network, we could talk longer).
NOVEMBER 2003 PHOTOGRAPH.(L-R) The late Captain Apollo Carandang, Dra. Cherish Hortelano, Major Jeezer Molve, Karisna Khate Sesante-Aparri and Major Edwin Parcia behind the famous Eli Rock of Boljoon,Cebu.
He was referring to two years ago when I dropped by at Meds’ quarters. I checked on him when we learned that the TOQ (where we spent so many memories) was burned down, and one of the things saved from the fire was his refrigerator stocked with boodles. hehehe.
Meds, currently in school, is a great cook in our group. He always bragged about his native special dish “sigsig of Pampanga,” a staple during our boodle fights. Along with Andok’s liempo, lechon manok, and Lucky Me’s pancit canton, our gatherings were always filled with delicious food. (thats a good one!)
As we continued our conversation, memories started flooding in, like scenes from a movie. Tears started running down my face; I missed the smiles, the laughter, the teasing, the bonding, and much more.
I still remember my reaction when they broke the news about reporting for flying school. I felt my knees weaken, a sense that a part of me would soon be gone. I was still recovering from my father’s demise, and now the ones who gave me strength were leaving.
Every night, I prayed that day would not come, but it did. Slowly, they left for flying school. I found myself standing in an empty hall of the TOQ in Mactan Airbase, hearing only the water dripping down nearby as I carried the golf clubs.
I went there to pick up the golf clubs that I left, my father’s stuff that we promised to play with. My father, the late Atty./Col Napoleon Medida Sesante of PMA Magilas class of 1976, never got the chance to play. After he made that promise, he became busy after assuming the post as the Cebu City Police Director.
A photo during Khate’s 18th birthday last July 2003
“Stay for dinner, iste. I am making sisig,” Meds told me while I was busy looking at one empty room after another. I tried to hold back my tears. Those empty rooms, our gaming room, were filled with beautiful memories.
“I can’t, Meds. I still have work to do,” I told him. One more hour in the building, and I would surely burst into tears. I wanted to leave him with the impression that I am already strong.
“Let’s bring our kids to the park when I am there,” Carrie said before we said goodbye. Five years had passed. Most of us were already married.
“Sure, basta don’t forget to bring boodles from Cavite,” I kiddingly told him. Memories—I love reminiscing because, no matter how I try to duplicate that bond, it was unique, unforgettable, and extra special.
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