Eulogy given by Abigail Buenviaje during the Memorial Mass for Albert on May 23, 2020,
On behalf of the Buenviaje family, I would like to thank you all for taking time out of your weekend to join us in the memorial service of my dad, Albert Buenviaje. I’m Abby, the eldest child of Albert and I was assigned the difficult task of speaking for the family.
Many of you know my Dad as the great, lovable Dean of the Ateneo Graduate School of Business or perhaps as the brilliant director/ or CEO leading the strategic management of several top companies, but what most of you don’t know (and this was shared by my late Lola), is that his original, long held ambition in life was to be a kutchero ng karitela– sorry, I need to explain what a kutchero is to my son, who can’t speak tagalog - kutchero is a coachman of a horse-driven carriage. This was a common means of public transportation back in the day, but now you can only see them in Intramuros. My lola explained that they rode a karitela once, and my Dad enjoyed the ride so much – I think they happened to be with a chatty kuchero – the kutchero was explaining the history of the different places they passed, told jokes, made sure that he and my lola were comfortable during the entire ride especially since there was a flood, and after the ride he saw my Lola hand over a few coins to the kuchero as payment – My Dad exclaimed that “This was his dream job – because the kuchero ng Karitela brought joy and learnings to people, was caring and reliable since you can only ride a karitela during floods and you got paid doing it.” A few days later, he said, he can perhaps also be a movie actor, but my Lola squashed this immediately and said he wasn’t good looking enough, and that he should just stick to his kuchero ng karitela ambition.
My dad as you all know, did not become a kuchero, but the overarching principles of why he wanted to be a kuchero were carried on in his life – he brought joy, laughter, selflessness, care and learnings to everyone he met.
My Dad, being the true blue Atenean he was, always imbibed the vision of AGSB and would always repeat this mantra to his children and I’d like to share this with all of you - “Expertise without integrity is empty. Integrity without expertise is ineffectual. Expertise and integrity without service is irrelevant.” I remember how a taipan who knew my dad told me once that my Dad was the “the most brilliant person he’s ever met and that he could either have been a multi billionaire due to his brilliance or ideally the President of the country”. Instead, my dad chose to devote most of his life, sharing his expertise through service and education – as a coach to his students, a mentor to CEOs and leaders, a strategic planner for corporates and a teacher to all.
Our family is extremely overwhelmed with the number of messages and anecdotes we received from people whose lives he touched. Leaders and students recount how instrumental my Dad has been in helping them achieve their goals and successes. My Dad also dedicated these past years as well (together with my mom) in working in the vineyard of the Lord, thru their involvement in various parish activities. He unselfishly shared his leadership ability to the parish community. He took an active role in the various leadership development programs of the parish. Coming from a poor family during his growing up years, his heart is always with the poor. He supported parish programs to improve the lives of the less fortunate families around them, not just financially (as he saw this as a temporary solution), but more so through EDUCATION, believing that when you give people the tools to improve themselves, eventually they can elevate their standard of living.
During this lockdown, my dad also re-tooled and made himself, in his own words “cool and tech savvy” to further people’s learnings. He learned how to use zoom. Every week, he would give us, his children a zoom lecture where we would discuss economic, capital markets and political updates. I work for an investment bank and naturally, I knew all these, but to be honest, my Dad always brought fresh perspective to these topics. We always looked forward to these and encouraged him to open these up to other people. The day before he passed away, he was actually so excited to launch his own virtual classroom for his students in the corporate world – to enumerate some of these topics are Strategic Management, Corporate Governance, Managing Change, Economics for Business. He posted his excitement on Facebook a few hours before he passed away. My Dad truly was that teacher and mentor that inspired hope, ignited the imagination and instilled in people a love of learning.
To the family, my dad was perfect in every way. To my mom, he was a loving and sweet husband. My mom and my dad were high school sweethearts, which is something unheard of in this day and age, and which also means they’ve been together as a couple for more than 50 years! They were such a great super team supporting each other in every way. And after all these years, my dad still looks at my mom like he was seeing the most beautiful person in the room. My Dad even commented during one of our zoom calls that he wasn’t bothered at all by the lockdown, since he was locked down together with my Mom and that they were actually re-living their teenage years. Whatever that meant, that statement made all of us, his children cringe.
To us, his children, and also grandchildren and sons in law, apart from being our mentor, he was our greatest cheerleader. Whenever we had major projects at work, in school or every time we encountered difficulties, my dad would always end our conversations by shouting “Fight, anak, fight!” in encouragement. When we would succeed, he would lead us in a dance which he dubbed as the “Chipachi dance” – it was like a tribal success dance where we all formed a circle and chant our success. My Dad taught us that if you really put your mind into something, anything is possible, any difficulties can be overcome.
Most important of all was how our dad taught us to love and care immensely – to be selfless of one’s time for the people you love. He was always available for his family, despite his extremely busy schedule. He was always available for all our school activities growing up (awarding ceremonies, declamation contests, etc.). He was always available and would be the first to ask “kamusta” on text or viber and would remember for some reason all the important deadlines or work projects we had on our plate. He would never forget to ask how things were going for those milestones. He was always available to volunteer to personally be the taga-sundo from the airport of his balikbayan daughters (when Arlene was still living in Singapore and whenever Kaken would fly back from Australia). He was always available to be their personal chauffer to take them to wherever they needed to go during their visits, even if it was just to go to the mall. He would be the first to raise his hand if any of his grandkids needed a ride to the doctor or sundo from school. Whatever was going on with his busy life, he was always available and he was always there.
My dad had so many achievements in life, but while he never bragged about these, he was the proudest dad and granddad. He was always the very first one to post on social media whenever my sisters and I accomplished major projects, like an IPO listing ceremony, or my sister’s successful marketing exhibitions; or my sister’s major supply chain project – sometimes before even these were publicly disclosed and we’d have to remind him to take things off from social media. He would also be the first to post milestones of his grandchildren, like my son, Gabo’s report card; my niece Ela singing her favorite song from Frozen, even before us parents had the chance to do so. Hence we fondly nicknamed my dad the “Town crier”.
Despite my Dad’s many health challenges, God actually blessed us with so many years with him. He had his first heart attack at the age of 40 in 1992, a quadruple bypass in 2003 and his last health scare was in 2016 – when he had a stroke and underwent a double brain operation. And yet God allowed him to surpass all these challenges – allowing him to walk all 3 daughters down the aisle during our weddings, mentor several people to achieve their goals and most of all enjoy his two grandchildren, Gabo and Ela, immensely.
Pa, to say we’re going to miss you terribly is the greatest understatement. We can’t begin to imagine not having you at the end of the phone checking up on us, encouraging us and your grandkids and having you at our weekly zoom sessions. This is definitely a huge loss for us, and while we know the pain of your loss will be profound and deep, we are comforted by the fact that you are now home with your Creator.
Rest in peace, Fafi.