Jimmy Borges, the consummate jazz singer, often said he was a storyteller first, then a crooner.

That’s why he adored and embraced lyrics that enabled him to share musical tales. He wanted his listeners to soar through the melodic jazz and all-American songbooks he favored.

He respected arrangements, too, scoring a personal biggie when one of his favorite singing storytellers, Frank Sinatra, allowed the Hawaii trouper rare access to the charts that put Ol’ Blue Eyes on the map.

Borges, who died Monday, spent his last months battling lung cancer without the usual chemotherapy. Yearning to live the last days of his life with dignity, he did just that — until the final curtain.

“I had to learn to die,” he had said about forgoing conventional treatment. “It’s not been easy.”

At 80, Borges was transparent about living life his way. Chemo might have extended his life a few weeks, but he preferred to dodge the ravaging side effects, such as losing his hair and weight. In his world, appearance mattered. He was always immaculately coiffed and nattily dressed. T-shirts? Almost never, in public. He was the essence of class and style.

The Kalihi-born entertainer had built up a colorful and rich career for 60 years, a journey that took him to the showbiz capitals of Las Vegas and New York, with stints in San Francisco and Japan that fortified his credentials. Hollywood actress Shirley MacLaine is credited with discovering the handsome islander with the winning pipes; his smooth and suave delivery attracted ardent, devoted listeners, including another idol, Tony Bennett. Bennett said of Borges after hearing him at the now-gone Trappers club, “Wherever this man goes, follow him. He’s one of the best singers I’ve ever heard.”

Borges’ mission was always to be the best he could be, the leader of the pack, the no-gimmick performer.

It was after his conquest of liver cancer about five years ago that he began thinking about his legacy. When he was told by his doctor last year that cancer had recurred — this time in his lungs and virtually incurable — Borges decided he wanted to end his musical journey by establishing a vocal music scholarship that would ultimately become his legacy. The scholarship would provide needy, qualified students with access to the financial kokua that Borges never had.

Although he declared himself to be part Portuguese, Borges also was a smidgen Hawaiian and mighty proud of his ethnicity. But he never embraced Hawaiian music in his artistry, lamenting at one time that he didn’t even know the lyrics to “Aloha ‘Oe” before recording it last year, as a personal adieu, on his eloquent jazz-oriented CD. Nor did he ever fully embrace “Hawaii Aloha,” the anthem traditionally performed at the conclusion of a Hawaiian celebration.

But he was always respectful of Hawaii and its rainbow of musical colors.

His aloha will endure via his music.

His last public performance was on Jan. 29 at “For the Love of Jimmy,” an emotional evening and a benefit event that raised more than $77,000 for his eponymous scholarship. He joined Melveen Leed in a couple of tunes, serenading a small army of his supporters and fans to shouts of joy and thunderous applause.

On a personal note, I will forever cherish the annual “Happy Birthday” sing-out, via the phone, I received every Aug. 13 from Borges. I called him Jeremiah, which is how he also identified himself in our phone conversations.

Last year Jeremiah was a couple of days late with his annual birthday cheer. I sensed something was horribly wrong. A few days later he chirped the birthday song, then shared the grim news that broke my heart: The big C was back, this time without hope of a cure.

But Jeremiah will be eternally jamming and jazzing within the pearly gates, brightening the heavens with his suave vocals. That’s his calling.