The never-ending story of KC

One lazy afternoon, my brother and I were throwing ideas around for my column "Chasing Toff." Grounded on what’s hot and what’s not, I thought I’d take a different approach today and commemorate something that had happened exactly one year ago. Yes, it has been a year since the tragedy of my sister’s death, since an unfortunate fire ravaged my home, and took her as its penultimate casualty. It’s been a year since the newspapers hailed the story of her death unto their headlines, and many a family and friend mourned with our bereaved family. The world has indeed come and gone, stopped for a moment, grieved, and continued on, but our family has been left to deal with a devastating loss and slowly attempt to pick up the pieces.

Remembering KC while indulging in my latest PS2 obsession, "Star Ocean 3", my brother advised me against writing about something that took so hard to get over. Why, in fact, rekindle a memory that might get me all down and depressed, yet again? With flashbacks of hellfire and brimstone racing through my head, my thoughts echoed and my heart skipped an unfathomable beat. The task of remembering is not as easy as one-two-three. But perhaps it’s necessary – to accept, to feel better, and to hopefully move on. Through this process of remembering, I have discovered solace while some have seen tragedy and untimely defeat. In embracing the fire, and the miraculous fruits of its countenance, I have seen life and new beginning. KC always was a presence to be reckoned with, and even in her absence, she is still weaving new chapters to her story that have in fact, only just begun.

It‘s widely known that children should bury their parents and not the other way around. Here is where KC’s story begins as she journeys into the newly established, I.N.A., which stands for Inang Naulila sa Anak. Ingeniously coined by Boy Abunda, the group has counseled and provided inspiration to mothers who have stumbled upon an unfortunate twist of fate. They have all lost children at one point in their lives and have bared the cross of separation from someone they have given so much of themselves to. Who better to say that everything will be all right than someone who has gone through the same experience? Someone like Ali Sotto who co-founded I.N.A. and shared her son Mikko with a girl who needed his eyes in order to see again. Someone like Dr. Honey Carandang, an expert on grief counseling who has guided these mothers through inevitable lapses of grief and distress. Someone, like my mom who has become a beacon of light for many others in their time of great need. KC’s passing has pumped so much life into it’s fruition that today, I.N.A. boasts a membership of 36 mothers who have all channeled their grief into something worthwhile. With a healing center that aims to provide grief counseling for less-fortunate mothers inaugurated earlier today, KC’s story will surely touch many lives.

Remembering the fire, I couldn’t help but be embittered once again by our firefighters’ inability to save my sister. Its the same old story of faulty water spouts, weakened shears, and lack of equipment that incapacitate these should-have-been saviors. Thus, KC’s story continues through the most recent initiative of House Speaker Jose de Venecia to import asbestos suit technology from Austria for fire stations nationwide. Although still in its initial planning stage, these will enable firemen to go in headstrong through painstaking fumes and falling debris in hopes of finding survivors and granting them a new lease on life. In addition, a pediatric ward in the Philippine General Hospital has been renovated in honor of KC’s bravery during the tragedy. Inaugurated last Nov. 24, the special section of the Ramirez Burn Center is set to nurse young victims of burn injuries under the leadership of Claire Paragas, head nurse of the PGH Burn Unit.

From Old Manila to the hinterlands of Alabang, KC’s story has pushed on through various charitable institutions around the area. All of which have dedicated special infrastructures in her name. The Haven for Children, a center for the rehabilitation of juvenile delinquents, has designated its Special Education Center in memory of KC, while its sister organization, Marilac Hills has done the same with one of many residential buildings. The Haven Center for Abused Wome, phase two has also been touched by my sister’s memory in helping them construct the KC de Venecia Productivity Cottage, a venue for livelihood activities such as rosary and basket-making for its hundred-some clients – that, in addition to countless other fruits of KC’s sacrifice.

Every story has its climax. Sixteen years in the making, and her story has beautifully culminated into the previously launched KC de Venecia Foundation for the Arts and the Sciences. Having exhibited some of her finest watercolor paintings as early as age six, she also had a knack for the natural sciences back in her Colegio San Agustin and ISM days. These passions shall serve as the premise for the college scholarship grants that KC will be imparting to deserving students who hail from humble beginnings. Here lies the essence of preserving a story that is far from over. And through the journeys that these scholars will embark upon, KC’s story will definitely sail on.

Remembering and reminiscing about my sister, I can’t help but relapse into the unfortunate Thursday of utter misfortune. If what-ifs bled out of shoulda woulda couldas, then perhaps my sister shoulda gotten rescued, woulda survived the fire, and coulda still been with us. Had I answered my phone on time to confirm that she wasn’t with me in Starbucks, or had my father been let out of Congress early, or there been a function in our forever-bustling home. Maybe she’d still be trying to grow up if our helpless firemen had thick enough shears to cut through the rails. Unfortunately, these what-ifs remain helpless cries of a longing heart. It’s one thing to live under their shadow and be consumed like a moth to a flame. It’s another thing if someone decides to do something about them. Through dedicated family and friends, KC sure has with continuing developments to her story that just keeps getting better.

The task of remembering has unlivable consequences. Even in trying to suppress a painful memory, it emerges through the thick and thin of a familiar brother and sister roughing things up like cat and dog, of seeing a random movie that culminates to a tragic death, or just by a passing butterfly and other such reminders of KC’s short-lived life. One year has passed but we have yet to recover. Mom was right. The pain just subsides but it never really goes away. It’s a scar that will forever hurt when in the oddest of times or in the silence of an hour, a painful memory recurs. That is until the good ones come your way.

Her story will live on, through her scholarship foundation, through I.N.A. and countless other endeavors – weaving chapter upon chapter that inspire and help make life a little better for the next burn victim, scholar, or grieving mother who’ll come knocking at the door. And just as a green-skinned lady from Wicked realized at the end of her ordeal, "Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better?" While she may never have experienced Elphaba, or read the newest installment of her favorite Harry Potter series, or added Cold Rock to her ever-expanding "binge list," KC, because we knew you, we have been changed… for good.

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Catch your breath and let me know what you think at chasingtoff@yahoo.com.