‘No one fights alone’

Ian Alfredo Magno

THIS column  is dedicated to a good friend, Alvin Frederick Llavore in memoriam.

It is a rare privilege to witness life’s final gasp of someone whom you grew up with since the first grade; a long-time classmate during the high school years; went to the same school in college, and worked in one office until recently, when his Creator finally granted him eternal repose.

Yes, it is a privilege – and indeed, rare – but agonizing nonetheless.

“No One Fights Alone” is the mantra dependably adopted by the Xavier University High School (XUHS) Batch 1995.  It has been observed, even by alumni hailing from other batches, that Batch ‘95 is the most closely-knit batch among the XUHS alumni.  So close that activities undertaken by Batch ’95 likewise closely involve their wives and children, who have similarly cultivated a close relation with the batch.

It began when, several years after graduating from high school, the all-boys batch came together one instance and decided to fortify the batch’s team in the one leisure we loved doing (even during short-lived lunchbreaks) way back in high school – basketball.  Since then, the team adopted the moniker “95 Sprockets” (courtesy of Pawaw Cababaros).

Preparing for the XUHS Alumni Basketball Association (ABA) was just a start of something stronger.  Little did anybody among us know that such new-found endeavor would refine one of the closest – if not the most compact – band of friends and batch-mates the XUHS has ever had.

Among the members in batch ’95 was the towering six-footer Brother Alvin Frederick Llavore.  Being one of the first stringers, he was also instrumental in leading the team to its twin championships in years 2012 and 2014.  Indeed, his passing marks a great loss.  More than that, nonetheless, the loss resounds beyond the games and shared activities – but straight down to a very personal plain to each one of us his batch-mates.  We lost a humble friend, a good listener, a big brother, and – a healer.

The last description may come as a surprise to some.

But over the years, Alvin encountered his God-given gift of healing.  Certainly, it was something only a few acquaintances knew about him.  After all, that was not something he bragged about, nor did he loosely talk about; neither candidly.  Nevertheless, he never failed to extend his healing assistance to relieve a friend or a friend’s loved one from the suffering caused by a serious illness.  Even while already agonizing with a fatal illness of his own, he still exerted best efforts to extend his help to relieve a friend or two from disease.

A week prior to his demise, he woke up after several days from under a state of coma.  Not being able to fluidly utter anymore, he gestured to friends who were present in the hospital, the number “17” – only to find out its significance later, when he passed away on September 17, 2017.  Born on October 17, 1977, his favorite number has always been “17” until he returned to his Creator last Sept. 17, 2017.

His innate love for goodness and God; his candid but constant visits to the church and to the Holy Sacrament (even during the most ordinary of days); his gentle, yet non-imposing demeanor are what defined the man, apart from being a basketball icon, which he was largely known for.

Our condolences to the family; his wife, Jenie.  We recognize the steady assistance extended by William Valduhueza, Chippy Yacapin, Shantaw Moreno, Janjan Geroy, Mark Adeva, Lourd Magto, Pawaw Cababaros, Ailer Quia, Michael Ragay, and the rest of XUHS Batch ’95; and of course, the mommies of ’95.

Thank you.  Rest well Brother Alvin.

(Ian Alfredo T. Magno is a practicing lawyer based in Cagayan de Oro. He is a legal officer at Philhealth. E-mail: ianalfredom@gmail.com)