Last night, I went to the wake of my brother’s best friend.

He died at 23 due to pancreatitis.  Most of you know it as “bangungot.”  I couldn’t believe it.  The news was unreal.

I’m sad beyond words.

He and my brother have been friends since kindergarten. He’s really close to our family and was like a second son to my mom and dad.  Only 23.  23 is too young to die.

Death has always been so sneaky.  He comes into your home when you least expect him, undetected.  He steals lives right from under your nose, snatching people away while they’re sleeping.