For me and many other students, this past year has been a journey through a grief that feels endless. There are moments when sadness resurfaces unexpectedly, bringing the painful reminder that one of my closest friends is no longer here. Nov. 7 marks a year since the passing of my good friend Ivan Valerio ’26, and I’ve found myself reflecting deeply on what it means to carry this loss.
I met Ivan my first week of coming to Middlebury. We are both Filipino-American, so we had that instant cultural connection. He was like a brother to me, because we had so many similarities in our backgrounds, and he would always jokingly call me “Ate,” the Filipino term to refer to your female elders… because I am exactly two months older than he was. He cooked really good Filipino dishes that reminded me of my mom’s and had similar mannerisms to the family I grew up with. It was little things like that that had brought me home.
So when Ivan passed, I felt like a part of myself was lost as well. I lost a part of my culture, and I lost a part of home. However, I have started to understand that even though he is gone, he has remained an enduring part of who I am today. Although in no way am I done grieving, I have had time in the past year to reflect, and I realized that I have learned a lot from him.
Losing a friend to suicide of course has the feeling of loneliness and sadness, as most grief does, but it is amplified by guilt, shame and confusion. The past year has made me question my own relationship to him. I’ve asked myself if I had been making our friendship larger than it was after his passing in fear that I would forget it if I didn’t. The past year also has made me realize that I have this constant need to put the blame on someone, whether that be the administration, other students or myself. Early on, I asked myself, why can I no longer text my friend? Why can I no longer have a Proc dinner with my friend and debrief my latest unattainable crush? Why can’t I see him anymore? Where is he? Now that it has been a year, I realize I still ask myself these things, but I also think about what he has taught me.
Lesson One: Embrace new skills and hobbies. The Middlebury Campus office sits just below the Hepburn grand piano, and sometimes the melody filters through the walls, transporting me back to freshman year, listening to Ivan learn to play. Despite having no prior experience, he became really skilled, and his dedication to learning something new was inspiring. I can still hear him playing the theme from “Your Lie in April,” and his ‘you can do anything if you just try’ mentality is something I carry with me now. Before, I wasn’t particularly adventurous, but over the past year, I’ve committed to broadening my horizons and learning new things. I’ve tried new painting techniques, learned to cook traditional Filipino dishes, snowshoed up a mountain and even gone skydiving. Next on my list to try? Knitting — maybe that’s the skill I’ll take on next.
Lesson 2: Perform random acts of kindness. Ivan easily is the kindest person I have met at Middlebury, if not my entire life, and I am grateful to have been able to call him a friend, as not everyone was privileged enough to have met him and known his compassion. Once, as I prepared to head home for the holidays, he helped me pack up my dad’s car — even though I hadn’t asked. Another time, during Thanksgiving break two years ago, he walked over a mile with me, helped carry my luggage to the Amtrak station, insisting on helping simply because he wanted to, and because that's what friends do. In the hustle culture of Middlebury, it is easy for us to get lost in our own worlds, overwhelmed by deadlines. Ivan showed me that making time for small acts of kindness can leave a lasting impact. We all have the capacity to be kind, yet we sometimes forget that these little gestures of support can mean the world to someone else. Honoring Ivan’s memory means taking those extra moments to be there for others, creating the kind of compassionate world he led.
Lesson 3: Show up for your friends in college. I’m incredibly grateful for the friends I’ve made at Middlebury, but it’s sobering to realize that this is likely the only time in my life I’ll live in the same place as all of them. College is brief, so I want to make the most of it by being present and supportive of my friends. Ivan always made time for those around him. When I first started writing for The Campus, I was anxious about conducting interviews, but Ivan was my very first interviewee in my first article, and he made it feel like an easy, casual conversation. I still carry that approach into my interviews now.
Ivan always showed up. He showed up to his friends' plays, dance shows and any project they needed help with. He showed up not just because he could, but because he valued supporting his friends in their passions. We’re all juggling a million things here, and it is easy to get caught up in our own obligations, but Ivan taught me that taking the time to support each other — whether by attending a show, cheering at a game or even reading their friends' Campus article — makes college a more meaningful experience. We all have friends doing amazing things that deserve to be celebrated, and it's important to show them love.
The one year anniversary does not mean everything becomes okay. I still get emotional — often, actually. I reread his birthday text to me the other day from summer 2023, he wrote “I’m truly so grateful to have met you. You’ve made such an impact on my life that’s truly hard to express in words. It’s been so fun making memories with you, and I am excited to make more next semester Ate Mandy.” I would give anything to turn back time and tell him just how much he impacted my life, how grateful I am for him and how deeply his kindness still resonates with me and everyone who knew him.
I’m never going to see Ivan again. I’ve accepted that. But his legacy lives on in the way I try to live now. I carry forward his courage to embrace new things, his compassion to be kind even when it’s inconvenient, and his unwavering dedication to showing up for others. Ivan taught me that, above all, our time here matters most when we use it to care for each other. That is exactly what I intend to do.
Mandy Berghela '26 (she/her) is a Senior Local Editor.
Mandy previously served as a local editor and staff writer. She is a Political Science major with a History minor. Mandy serves as co-president for Southeast Asian Society (SEAS), a member on the Judicial Board, and an intern for the Conflict Transformation Collaborative. In her free time, she enjoys cycling and reading fantasy novels.
