Remembering the life of Daniela Maria Escobar: a personal account

The last conversation I had with Daniela Maria Escobar changed my outlook on life and weighed heavily on my decisions. 

She was letting me know that she couldn’t join me for an acai bowl: “Sorry, I can’t hold down some meals because of my chemo treatments. It’s fine though, I can still do other things! I feel so blessed.” 

But it was I who had been blessed with her friendship. 

Ever since she passed, there hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought of her. 

It made me realize that I have made mistakes. I think about mornings where my mom would leave to visit Daniela at the hospital and I chose to sleep in or the gifts she’s made me, such as a rosary that I misplaced. I could go on, but Daniela did not. She passed away on Nov. 11, 2018 from brain cancer, after a two-year battle. 

Her passing instilled new life in me. 

I know that she wouldn’t want me, or anybody she cared about, to feel regret. 

I can write about Daniela’s battle with brain cancer and how it affected her everyday life. 

“But that’s not what Daniela is about,” her sister Natalia told me. And she was right. 

Daniela was more than just her disease; her heart was purer than that of anybody I have encountered. 

This was a young woman who spent her time in the hospital making bracelets and rosaries to fund money for a family in need. 

During the end of her time staying in the hospital, her own doctor left her, tearfully saying:

“Out of all of the people in this hospital, you are one of those who is suffering the most…yet you have never complained. I visit you to provide hope, but instead, it’s you who provides it to me.” 

She was focused and loved being a Long Beach State student. So much so, she was buried with her beloved CSULB cap. She had less than a semester’s worth of units left to graduate but had fallen behind during her battle with the disease. 

After Daniela passed, there were many stories of how she had affected others. After her battle ended, a parent of a friend of Daniela’s approached her mother, Ana. 

“You have no idea how much of a positive impact your daughter had on my son’s life. He has suffered with depression for years, and became suicidal,” she said. “However, she stepped in to tell him why happiness in life is worth searching for. She spent so much of her time dedicated to comforting, supporting and keeping him here with us.” 

If there is one source of Daniela’s best qualities, it is the character of her family. Daniela grew up with two sisters, Natalia and Gabriela, and her brother, Diego. She also had two devoted parents, Ana and Eric Escobar. 

When my mom asked Ana how she was doing, she told her simply: 

“My family is like an orchestra…when one instrument is down, the rest have to pick up the tune and continue.” 

And that certainly happened: there were 60 or more people in their home every night after she passed, praying the Novena, or nine-day prayer service. 

On the day of Daniela’s funeral, I turned around in my pew and saw hundreds of people from my community filling the church. It was standing room only. We saw this family, who gave so much, endure something so crippling. The last time we spoke, Daniela didn’t put her wig on, because she felt beautiful as she was. She had a big smile on her face the day her hair fell and sent a selfie to us and her family. 

She had a fire inside of her, determined to live every day as if it were another opportunity to make somebody else smile as big as she did. 

The last conversation I had with my friend changed my life because she gave me hope. After she passed away, I became driven to pursue happiness regardless of the challenges that come my way. I am inspired to love people the way she did, and I dream of having an ounce of the selflessness she embodied. 

And that alone is my beautiful friend’s impact on every person she encountered. 

–Daniela Maria Escobar 

AUGUST 30, 1993 – NOVEMBER 11, 2018