LJM: Mentor, mother, North Star
THERE WAS a full moon on Christmas Eve when Letty Jimenez-Magsanoc passed away.
“Not since 1977 has a full moon dawned in the skies on Christmas,” Nasa reported. And there will not be another until 2034.
I believe that full moon was out the night before Christmas because the Lord lit up the skies to welcome LJM to heaven.
That and probably because in the Lord’s infinite wisdom, he knew that if the light to follow wasn’t bright enough, the forthright and indefatigable LJM would have opted to stay behind.
“I passionately love life and I will be earthbound for the longest time,” she told Inquirer columnist and photographer (and good friend) Mandy Navasero two days before she died.
Seven hats for LJM
We will just take comfort in the fact that she was ready spiritually.
“Maybe God chose not to prolong her sufferings,” Navasero mused. “Letty was a devoted Catholic. She attended Mass (at the Edsa Shrine) daily at noon and then walked one hour in their village. I gave her seven hats to protect her from the heat and she told me every day she was sporting a new hat during her walks.”
In fact, our last conversation was about prayer.
Letty’s ‘bunso’
“I continue to pray for your dad’s continuing healing daily,” she texted in November.
Two days later, I had “good” news for her.
“Ma’am, thank you so much for your prayers and I have proof God has been listening. We are about to do radiation for my dad but the doctor recommended by our neuro onco is out of the country … so my dad’s case has fallen in the hands of a certain Dr. Marti Magsanoc, head of radiation oncology of St. Luke’s!”
Dr. Marti Magsanoc is her bunso (youngest son).
God’s healing power
“Praise the Lord! Your dad will be healed!” she rejoiced, as if my dad was a member of her family. “I also pray for the healing of all the patients of Dr. Marti.”
“May he be a true instrument of God’s healing power,” I replied. “I believe he is,” she concluded, confident in the capabilities of her son.
So it was with great pain that I received the news only a month later that she … could no longer be healed. We were celebrating noche buena with my dad, whose healing she prayed for every day, when we received the news that she herself had gone.
A second mother
It is an unbearable loss, made worse by the fact that it was so abrupt, because she was an invaluable mentor to me, as she was to many at the Inquirer. A lot of us regard her as a second mother, weeping as we were orphaned on Christmas Eve.
“The last time I felt like this was when my mother died,” Chelo Banal-Formoso, my first editor at the Inquirer, wrote on her Facebook wall.
“Hoping to be up and about before Christmas Day. Love you, guys,” Letty texted. Formoso texted back, “Pagaling ka (Get well), Let. That’s what’s important.”
But God had other plans, and now I can’t stop the tears, Formoso said.
A lot of us owe our careers to her. I, for one, wouldn’t ever have become a food writer if not for LJM.
“We don’t have an opening in Opinion,” she told me when I applied after graduating from law school. “What about food? Can you write about food?” Then she set me off on a totally unexpected path that turned out to be a wonderful, delicious journey.
PDI’s Yoda
As Philippine Daily Inquirer’s Yoda, she nurtured both Jedis and Padawans. No writer was small enough to nurture.
Until last month, she herself would give me tips on new restaurants to visit or quiz me on the dining scene to keep me on my toes.
When I started writing for the (now defunct) Sunday Inquirer Magazine, it was also her idea to give a budget so that I could eat at restaurants unannounced and have the bravado to critique even established restaurants.
Wisdom with wit
By writing from the perspective of a regular diner, Menu in the Sunday Inquirer in time became a noted reliable source for honest reviews.
I have happily been a food writer for 11 years now. I owe this life to LJM.
A sentiment I share with most if not all writers at the Inquirer: It was an honor and a privilege to work for her. And a delight because she imparted her wisdom with wit. And because she was always supportive. And loving. And genuine. And just ubercool.
Our North Star
On Christmas Eve, I surmise as LJM breathed her last, the sermon at our church was about the North Star and how it led the Wise Men to Christ’s manger. The North Star can sometimes be found in people, our pastor said. Notice how some have an aura so strong and bright that they guide you and bring out the best in you, leading you to Christ.
That was Letty Jimenez-Magsanoc for a lot of us: mentor, mother, North Star.
Thank you for being our North Star, LJM. Your spirit will shine bright with us, in us, inspiring us and guiding us always. You will live forever in our hearts.
