That is how people always describe FPJ – gracious. That people looked up to him was almost a given, his stature as a celebrity who has remained on top for over 40 years practically sealed that. Over and above that, what was so admirable about the man was, first, his propensity to share his blessings anonymously, and second, that he was genuinely liked and loved in an industry all too often known for hypocrisy and selective memory – an industry that usually chooses to highlight the negative rather than the positive if only because the former always makes for juicier copy. Maybe that is in keeping with the natural order of things: One is loved according to how much he, too, has loved. Tit for tat. But that is another story altogether, better told by all those whose lives he personally touched.
If other people found out about his kindness and generosity, it most certainly did not come from him. I have yet to meet anyone from showbiz who actually has nasty things to say about FPJ. Even in his short but memorable stint in the political arena, even his staunchest critics could uncover no stinky skeleton in his closet and the closest thing they could do to thwart his immense popularity was to highlight the fact that he had no prior experience in public governance, that he was not qualified to lead because he did not know in theory what his opponents supposedly did. But no one, no one, questioned his integrity as a person. All agreed he was decent, everyone knew he was honest and like his on-screen persona, he always fought his battles fairly in real life.
Although he could have faded away with time, he was taken by our Creator suddenly and quickly, pretty much like the heartbreak of first love. And for the first time in a long time, a divided nation is united in mourning.
The night that his casket was brought to the Sto. Domingo Chapel, the whole room fell into hushed silence, broken only by the sound of soft crying. There was not a dry eye in the room, not a sad heart. The sight of his grieving but ever gracious widow, Susan Roces, was enough to move one to tears – bravely smiling through her pain. Her strength and composure despite the circumstances is admirable. "He is smiling, he is smiling!" she tearfully but happily said to all around her. And indeed he was. FPJ, even in death, still had the same kind face, the same familiar kind smile he was almost always never without.
By some people’s standards it was a tragic end to the movie that was his life. It matters not how he died. What matters more is how he lived his life because that is how he will be remembered. His life was constantly punctuated by random acts of kindness, one that was not only blessed but also shared. As if to underscore that even more not many people knew that he spent the last four days of his life doing what he did best and what made him happy – helping others. And as he busied himself with easing the pain of typhoon victims in Quezon, he again admonished his assistants to not announce what he was doing.
Now emotions are high but when all this dies down, it is obvious that there will only be sweet words for a soul that once upon a time walked so kindly even when the times were unkind, helped so quietly yet so constantly. The outpouring of love and support from all corners of the nation is overwhelming and amazing. The thousands who patiently line up the whole day to go through the sea of white flowers to pay their final respects for the self-made man that was Da King is testament to the fact that was loved dearly.
I did not know the man on a personal level, but like thousands of others, I grieve the loss of a truly honest and decent man, a rarity in this time and age. Genuine love is something that neither wealth nor power can buy. That is what FPJ had so much of, that is what he took with him when he finally breathed his last.