Charlie Callejo died in his sleep at 3.44 in the morning of September 4, 2014. He was 48.
At one time, he had ballooned up to over 200 pounds filling his 5 foot four inch frame. At his passing, he had shrunk to a little over a hundred pounds.
His nemesis was cancer, a particularly virulent strain that first infiltrated his liver, then metastasized to his lungs and then to his brain... On the day before he passed, a last X-Ray had shown that the lungs were all but enveloped by the malaise.
Yet, to quote this line in the Last Samurai, I would rather focus not on how he died, but on how he lived.
Charlie Callejo was one of the early foodies, long before the technology made this concept a byword in cyber speak. He loved food, loved to cook it, loved to eat it, loved to share it, loved to sell it. The culmination of his love affair with food was his beloved Soca's bar and grill, named after his beloved daughter, Sofia Camille, and in the Fat Man meats he used to sell.
He ate well, drank well and a lot, smoked like a chimney, loved exotic women, and loved life. He was fearless, if a bit reckless, but he grabbed life by the horns and gave it a good old fashioned tug every chance he got.
He was a doting father. Calling his daughter "lover", was his Charliesque way of expressing how she was his immortal beloved, the apple of his eye, the cherry in his sundae. Life did not always deal Charlie good cards, and making a living was a often a struggle, but he remained chipper and cheerful and optimistic.
He was a fiercely protective brother. The only boy in a brood of five, brother to four tough, sanguinary Amazon like Hispanic sisters, he nonetheless was a warrior where their honor and good name and safety were concerned.
He was unico hijo, the pet of his mother, who despite his many shenanigans in life, stayed fiercely loyal to him and protective of him till the end, and adored him because he was such a charmer.
He was a wonderful uncle...acting like a second dad to his nephews, especially Mikel, whom he taught to drive, and drive well, even though he did not have a professional license, and needed one to enable Mikel to learn to drive. It was a chance that he took, a precaution that he did not bother with, yet it was an opportunity he turned into a skill for an adoring nephew.
He was a great friend. Gigi Pratts will agree, his bestest of the best friends. He made friends easily, he was such a charmer I tell you, and he never judged, never gossiped, never bad mouthed or criticized anyone. He always agreed to disagree, and adopted silence and an easy smile when one person's opinions differed from his own.
He was a loving if typical Latin husband. He always thought of his wife Gina as the most exciting woman he had ever met, certainly the most sensuous and exotic. Yes he had a wandering, admiring eye, and he fulfilled the legacy of his equally larger than life dad by fathering two other daughters out of marriage, but he loved liberally and unselfishly. Perhaps it was because he adored children, and had a great capacity for loving. Perhaps he was a true Latin. Perhaps he was a real Callejo man! Whatever he was, he would have been a grandfather this December...
The halls of the home on Laoag St. will echo with the silence of grief for a while to come, but every nook and cranny will resound with many loving images and memories of Charlie's laughter, of his wonderful dishes, of his sheepish grin after he pulled a stunt, of his gentle ways through the thick and thin and vicissitudes of life.
He was a bon vivant in the true sense of the word....he was the ultimate lover...of life.
Rest well Charlie, and till we meet again in the hallowed halls of the afterlife, in the meantime, enjoy your passions with abandon in heaven. We will miss you now, but we are the better because we each have an armload of precious memories of how you came in and touched our lives.
Adios, carito.
His nemesis was cancer, a particularly virulent strain that first infiltrated his liver, then metastasized to his lungs and then to his brain... On the day before he passed, a last X-Ray had shown that the lungs were all but enveloped by the malaise.
Yet, to quote this line in the Last Samurai, I would rather focus not on how he died, but on how he lived.
Charlie Callejo was one of the early foodies, long before the technology made this concept a byword in cyber speak. He loved food, loved to cook it, loved to eat it, loved to share it, loved to sell it. The culmination of his love affair with food was his beloved Soca's bar and grill, named after his beloved daughter, Sofia Camille, and in the Fat Man meats he used to sell.
He ate well, drank well and a lot, smoked like a chimney, loved exotic women, and loved life. He was fearless, if a bit reckless, but he grabbed life by the horns and gave it a good old fashioned tug every chance he got.
He was a doting father. Calling his daughter "lover", was his Charliesque way of expressing how she was his immortal beloved, the apple of his eye, the cherry in his sundae. Life did not always deal Charlie good cards, and making a living was a often a struggle, but he remained chipper and cheerful and optimistic.
He was a fiercely protective brother. The only boy in a brood of five, brother to four tough, sanguinary Amazon like Hispanic sisters, he nonetheless was a warrior where their honor and good name and safety were concerned.
He was unico hijo, the pet of his mother, who despite his many shenanigans in life, stayed fiercely loyal to him and protective of him till the end, and adored him because he was such a charmer.
He was a wonderful uncle...acting like a second dad to his nephews, especially Mikel, whom he taught to drive, and drive well, even though he did not have a professional license, and needed one to enable Mikel to learn to drive. It was a chance that he took, a precaution that he did not bother with, yet it was an opportunity he turned into a skill for an adoring nephew.
He was a great friend. Gigi Pratts will agree, his bestest of the best friends. He made friends easily, he was such a charmer I tell you, and he never judged, never gossiped, never bad mouthed or criticized anyone. He always agreed to disagree, and adopted silence and an easy smile when one person's opinions differed from his own.
He was a loving if typical Latin husband. He always thought of his wife Gina as the most exciting woman he had ever met, certainly the most sensuous and exotic. Yes he had a wandering, admiring eye, and he fulfilled the legacy of his equally larger than life dad by fathering two other daughters out of marriage, but he loved liberally and unselfishly. Perhaps it was because he adored children, and had a great capacity for loving. Perhaps he was a true Latin. Perhaps he was a real Callejo man! Whatever he was, he would have been a grandfather this December...
The halls of the home on Laoag St. will echo with the silence of grief for a while to come, but every nook and cranny will resound with many loving images and memories of Charlie's laughter, of his wonderful dishes, of his sheepish grin after he pulled a stunt, of his gentle ways through the thick and thin and vicissitudes of life.
He was a bon vivant in the true sense of the word....he was the ultimate lover...of life.
Rest well Charlie, and till we meet again in the hallowed halls of the afterlife, in the meantime, enjoy your passions with abandon in heaven. We will miss you now, but we are the better because we each have an armload of precious memories of how you came in and touched our lives.
Adios, carito.
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