One professor in our college, Ma’am Aissa Jimenez, passed away this morning. She was my professor in Filipino I, and I am really shocked by her sudden death.
We know that she’s struggling because of a certain illness since one of our professors last semester told us to pray for her, and we assumed that it was a complication in her giving of birth to her first child. Bingo! It was the reason. And she succumbed to death in her sleep, cardiac arrest according to another professor.
Yesterday, she even visited friends in AB. She was there, and one professor, according to what I’ve read, told her to rest because she’s growing really thin. Little did the professor know that Ma’am Aissa will rest for good.
I feel sad, first for the husband he left, Sir Agui, and their first baby. What could be more heart breaking than to be left behind by the person you love most? Especially if she is your only family left. It was tragic. More than two years ago, Sir Agui and Ma’am Aissa survived a violent attack in Blumentritt Market. Both were alive, but Sir Agui was deeply injured.
I feel sad for myself as well. I’m hoping this is only a bad joke.
Last summer, I was tasked to interview Ma’am Aissa’s husband, Sir Agui and since I didn’t have any contact of him, I decided to message Ma’am Aissa. Well, it took a while before she replied, but she did share some of her thoughts to me regarding the issue that her husband faced. I remembered her also asking how I was doing in my OJT, and chatting with me through several messages. She even thanked me after the article got published. The same gratitude Sir Agui extended towards me. It’s as if they were one – bound by the same set of values, and beliefs.
She wasn’t the teacher that you’d look up to because she’s superb intelligent, but when it comes to relationships, she’s probably one of those who were able to be a friend to her students. Yes, she’s a nice professor, joking around with students. I haven’t seen her in my entire stay in AB with a long face. Never.
And of course, she never fails to ask how are you doing whenever your paths cross.
Ma’am Aissa, you’ve touched the hearts of lots of students. You’ve been such a good teacher and friend. It may be hard for the people you left behind, but I wish that you find happiness in where you are now. You will be missed. Thanks for all the precious memories. We love yooou, and death can never take that love away.