It takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, and a lifetime to forget them.........
His real name was Jonathan Brotonel. His family and mine are close for his parents are godfather to my younger brother Derek. He was 2 years my junior.
I was a freshman in college and our Physical Education Class for the 2nd semester was Basketball. I came to the town plaza to practice. Their house is situated just across the plaza. I didn't know he was watching me made a fool of myself. What's odd is - I can hit volleyball, pingpong, bowling, badminton good but never basketball. I guess basketball just doesn't like me. But that was the time when Jojo said he first really noticed me.
June 24th is a much celebrated day in our place. It is the Feast Day of St. John the Baptist, the precursor of Christ. He was the voice shouting in the desert, "Prepare ye the way of the Lord". The organizers collect money from the households and a gathering is held at a place in "Alakaak", a term referring to P. Canubas Street. Everybody goes there to share pancit (lo-mein), bread and juice. When you go there, you have to be prepared and wear something that can get wet, leave things that must not, for surely you will get wet. "San Juan" is always celebrated with water. I remember even in bus or jeepney, people will throw water at you.
San Juan fell on a week-end when I was a college sophomore, so I was in my hometown instead of in Manila. I was in the gathering place, when there appeared Jojo, freshly showered. Nobody dared wet him and I asked everybody why nobody's doing it. There must be something in him that made them all deferential. I got a pitcher with ice and I walked straight to Jojo and poured cold water on him. He blushed.
That was the start of an unforgettable courtship. Whenever we have gatherings like dances, caroling or halloween, Jojo made sure he was there when I was. He will come to our house all dressed up complete with shoes. His normal attire consists of shorts and slippers so when he was all dressed up like that, everybody knew he was gonna come and visit me.
At 16, I was so naive, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. I didn't know how to deal with suitors. I felt so shy everytime I'm near him. Nobody counseled me, since I belonged to a generation where it was still old school, parents never talked to children about feelings, relationships. Those were taboos. I liked him but I didn't want to have a boyfriend while I haven't finished college. Early marriage, disgrace to parents, teen pregnancy, those were shadows looming a teen-ager that time. I have to prove them wrong. So I did what I was good at doing - annoying him.
I have a network of friends and even though we didn't have cellular phones at that time, news traveled fast. Sometimes, I would deliberately hide from him. I knew he was going to our house to talk to me but I would linger on to my cousin Lilibeth's house just to discourage him. One time, he came while my sister and I were washing clothes by hand. My sister Yvette told me "don't worry, Eileen, I got it!" She liked Jojo for me, I guess. But what I did was got all the dirty clothes and washed them all so it would delay my facing him. I thought, maybe he will get tired of waiting for me to finish but he waited patiently, as if seeing me wash clothes by hand is the most fascinating thing in the whole wide world. He was that persistent, and he was that enamored of me.
Our family loves music. My brothers are good guitar players and singers. There was a phase when we liked to record our songs. I remember my brother Ronald replaying the recording he made & while listening, we heard our dogs' bark and my brother saying "Pasok, (come-in) Jojo". We all laughed so hard for he forgot to turn the recorder off to usher Jojo in in one of his visits.
My cousins Lilibeth, Jane and Gracelee were helping me clean in our house when Jojo came to visit me one time. My 3 cousins pretended working, one was sweeping, one was scrubbing the floor with coconut husk and the other one with a rag just to eavesdrop in our conversation.
His parents bought a house in Quezon City and there was a scheduled blessing. They rented a bus to transfer all relatives and friends they invited for the occasion. Our family was invited but only Dad and myself went. That was one fine gathering and I remember the event was catered by The Aristocrat, a very prominent restaurant.
I can say that Jojo's courtship was one phase in my life that I felt very very special. His family loved me as if I were one of them. They had a high regard for me because they learnt that I wrote Jojo a letter full of advises and good intentions. Plus, they believed in good match. Somebody told them that marriage between Jojo and me would mean good fortune for us. Astrology seemed to agree with that for our zodiac signs are the most compatible -- Pisces and Cancer. He was born July 13.
I remember my friends teasing me "Balita ko Eileen, iiwanan daw ang pari sa blessing pero di ikaw" (It means "Eileen, I heard, they can leave the priest behind for the blessing but not you"). Every member of their clan knew me. All of his family and relatives knew me. A visiting relative from overseas would come and Jojo will take them to our house to see me. It was really very flattering. But I did not feel very special at that time. I viewed it from the negative side.
At that time, I was very obstinate. My close friends knew that character of mine. I didn't like it at all that I saw it then as "opportunistic", that Jojo was putting me in a position where no other suitor can come in because he was already branding me as "his". I hate it when people are putting words in my mouth. So I made the decision to turn him down even though I really liked him. I even had a theme song for him. It was "Against All Odds" by Phil Collins. It was the most apt song for us, I thought, because I was older, and by that time he was always seen in company of wayward youth or let's say misguided juveniles; and there were lots of odds to hurdle. Some people said I would be better off without him, but I knew I was the only one who really knew him at all.
I remember my sister challenging me before, saying "so you're gonna wait for Jojo all your life?" to gauge how much I feel for Jojo. I said "It'll take just 2 years after I graduate before he does!" Another board-mate of ours chimed in "what if he doesn't finish it on time? You'll still be there against all odds?"
I was chosen Reyna Elena (Queen Helen, the most important character in the festival) in the Santacruzan (May Flower Festival) that year and Jojo was my partner. He ordered fresh orchids for me. All throughout the route, he was so caring and attentive, never left me, fanning me when it's hot, offering me drinks. A perfect gentleman. The long route of the procession didn't seem that long when you were having a good time.
The moment I said NO, Jojo distanced himself from me. He focused his attentions on other girls whom he didn't notice before because he was truly "into me". But I knew his feelings didn't go away. I can still feel it during the times we see each other afterwards. Even if he already had a girlfriend! And he still kept the picture of the two of us together in his bedroom.
The last time I saw him was in the bus station going to our hometown. He already saw me as early as I was still walking towards the bus, then I saw him the moment I lifted my eyes as I got up, he was smiling at me. He was wearing red shirt and jeans He did not invite me to sit beside him, he just stood there, all smiles, and I thought he was with somebody. And so I went to the back of the bus and sat there. When we reached our destination, he walked ahead of me and did not wait. Later on, I learned from his father that he got hurt that I did not want to sit beside him and that was the reason why he did not pay for my fare. I never thought that that would be the last time I will ever see him alive.
A few weeks or months after that, my cousin Cyril Alcazar went home for the week-end and I did not. When she went back, the first thing she told me was "Ate Eileen, si Jojo..." I did not even let her finish, and I said "what? he got married? that's good!" Then she chastised me saying "stupid, he died!" I said "are you serious?" Yes, I am! she replied. Then she proceeded to tell me how everyone was trying to contact me long distance, but nobody can get through. What's puzzling was, the phone was not busy all day.
Cyrill said that there were a lot of people at the funeral and that there were 2 girls crying their hearts out there. His girlfriend Essel and another ex-girlfriend from Batangas West High School. She even joked "you would have been the 3rd had you been there."
After it all sank in, my first thought was "God, forgive me for all the sins I've committed towards Jojo". After I turned him down, I think I tried to rub it in for I once went to their house in Sampaloc with the guy everybody knows I like, even though he was not my boyfriend. But Jojo took it all in like a man, he was still corteous and nice, very hospitable towards us.
That night, I had a nightmare. I couldn't get out of it and my first thought was, if I die tonight, then people will say I died because Jojo died. Praying the Apostle's Creed, which, my mom told me is a very powerful prayer, was what made me wake up that night. I recited it over and over until I woke up.
Evening and morning and at noon, I will pray and cry aloud; and He shall hear my voice. Psalm 55:17
A couple of days after, I received a phone call from Daddy Quirino (Jojo's dad). When he said hello, I can swear I thought it was Jojo talking to me until he continued to talk and I determined it was really him. He told me what happened, how Jojo was talking outside with a pregnant lady in the gate of their house when a big truck came rushing in, apparently dragging a live wire from the electric post which electrocuted Jojo and the pregnant lady. Daddy Quirino told me how there were lots of people who attended the funeral and how he wished it was a wedding instead; that Jojo told him about the last time we saw each other. I felt really bad at what I did. If I had known, I would have made it memorable for him.
The following week-end, I went home. I bought candle holders and a roll of cake which I brought to Jojo's parents. How they cried when they saw me. I was with Glenda and Kathleen when I went to their house. On the way home, we passed by the bank and as I was walking ahead of them, I smelled the beatiful fragrant camia scent. When they caught up with me, I asked them if they smelled the camia flower over there. Glenda looked at me as if I was out of my mind and she blurted out "Tange, ang tagal na kayang walang camia dun?" (Stupid, the camia plants are no longer there for a long time already). I believe Jojo was happy to see me see his parents and that the fragrant smell was from him.
The first All Souls' Day after Jojo's death, I picked a red rose flower from my mom's garden and brought it to Jojo's tomb. I told Mommy Josie and Daddy Quirino, this is for Jojo coz he never gave me roses. He gave me orchids.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.... 1Corinthians 13:4-8
That is the kind of love Jojo had for me. It was too late when I realized how pure and true Jojo's feelings for me was.
I've grown closer to his family after he died. Jojo kept our ties alive. His two sisters, Madonna and Shellaine have become two of my best buddies.
I have seen Jojo at least 4 times in my dreams since I lived here in Florida. I remember telling my aunt Nieves about it over the phone.. I told her I have had dreams of Jojo and they were all good dreams. He looks young and smiles a lot in my dreams. It was like old times. I want to think that Jojo still looks after me even there where he's at. I always say a little prayer for him when I dream about him and in times when he enters my mind.
For what it's worth, I can bravely say now that Jojo will always have a special place in my heart.
For those of you who will read this, I want to tell you this: that time is short. Who or what we may have today can be gone tomorrow. Any kindness we can show today, we have to do it now. For we may not pass this way again..... God bless!
I am adding this as an afterthought:
I have always asked why God did not allow me to come home that weekend for his funeral. The reason that came to me then and even until now - is that God probably did not want me to see Jojo laying in a casket. He doesnt want to tarnish my memory of him but wants me to remember him as I always have," curly haired ever smiling young vibrant loving Jojo". That is also the reason I was given for not being able to come home for Dad's funeral.
On a more personal note, though, I think Jojo spared me the pain because he might have known it would have affected me a lot. That just proved how much he loved me indeed! I miss you, Jojo. Thank you for your love. I wish I was worthy of it....
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
My Daddy
I grew up to be the only girl in our house as my only sister was already living with our grandmother in the city by the time I was born.
His work at the Department of Agrarian Reform brought him to a lot of places for conference or assignments. And whenever he came home, he had a present just for me. My two brothers didn't seem to mind at all. Two presents stayed in my memory. The red native hand woven dress fromBaguio
When we were young, Daddy loved to show us off to his drinking buddies. He would call us to sing to them. I was always glad to do it. My brother Ronald (Kuya) used to do it all the time too, but there was once an instance when he didn't feel like doing it. His best repertoire when we were little was the song "Mama". Kuya's singing voice is really very good! That night, Daddy called him to sing. Kuya said, "I don't want to". It was our custom that you don't put your parents to shame, so my daddy whipped him in the butt, then ordered him to sing. With tears in his eyes, Kuya sang for him.
I guess I had a nice voice when I was little too, for one of Dad's friend and relative Danding Brotonel used to call me Nora Aunor (a famous singing superstar in thePhilippines
I remember one time, when Daddy was stationed in Laguna if I remember it right, he brought me to their company Christmas Party. I had a white shoulder bag then that Ate Yvette gave me during one of her visits. I still recall being placed on top of a working desk to sing and sing and sing. Everybody gave me money for my singing that my little shoulder bag became full of big 1 peso coins. Later on, dad brought me to visit Ate Yvette inPasay
My dad used to carry me all the time in his arms until I got too heavy for him, I guess. I remember him checking our hair for lice when we were little. If we had it, he will wash our hair with powder called "sevin", a chemical used to kill fungus in plants. He would order us to take a nap in the afternoon when we were little, and when we wake up, Mom already had snacks waiting for us.
Wherever Daddy was, Derek was there too. He was his pride and joy. He even had a term of endearment to him. He would call him "Lodrigo" in a melodious voice. My uncles would tell how my Dad would have bought him a car had Derek asked for one at that point in time.
Then Onjon came. He was the new apple of the eye. They were the new magnets. One time, Daddy was with his drinking buddies in Pook, when Onjon asked him if they can go home already. Daddy said "in a little while." As the night progressed, Onjon asked him again times and was met with the same answer. Then after a while, he told Daddy "If you won't leave and take me home, I will turn this table over! (pertaining to where the liquor and the "pulutan" (appetizer) was.) And Daddy said the same thing. So what Onjon did was just what he said he will, and the glasses and the liquor and everything on the table fell to the ground. What Daddy and his friends did? Laughed it out and spread the story. And so Onjon got his wish.
We had 2 passenger jeepneys when we were small. Both of them were driven and making money for us. I remember Daddy having a big empty can of pineapple juice which he used as a piggy bank. All of the coins the drivers would give at the end of the day went to that bank. One time, when Onjon was about 3 or 4, he was the king of the world so he was the one privileged to put the coins in the can. He did it so fast that Daddy was amazed how he did it. When Onjon stood up, a lot of peso coins fell from his pockets to the floor. Dad didn't get mad, just lovingly told him to put them back in the can.
When I was in grade school, Daddy and I used to shop for my dress before every school year's closing ceremony. Daddy would take me to Lemery to shop for my dress. That was because I got first honors from 1st to 6th grade and no one can take his pride of being the one to pin the ribbon or medal on me. I never complained nor disliked any of the dress that he bought for me, though in all honesty, they were not very pretty. I was just so happy he bought them. That is why I can not understand how my daughter MJ would always say "I don't like it" 90% of the time when I buy something for her.
He was a loving father. He used to bring home something for us everyday when he comes home from work. Normally, he would bring bread, or something special whenever he wins from one of his vices -cockfighting. Before he got issued a company vehicle, he commuted to and from work everyday. Whenever we hear the jeepney slowing down in the afternoon, all of us kids will rush and race towards the road for we knew Daddy had something for us. It only stopped when one of us almost got run over by the jeepney one time. After that, no more treats anymore when he came home.
My dad was a stingy person. He didn't like to spend on a lot of things except for the animals and his visitors and his sisters. We could afford it, but we lived frugally. It was Mommy who bought a lot of things in our house from her salary. We could afford to pay cash for our 1st refrigerator, but he chose to do it installment instead. Our first television was a hand-me-down from Inay, mom's mother. So was our sofa; And our bed; And the sewing machine. When we were in high school and college, his favorite line was "I have no money."
I remember my brother asking him for money one time and as usual, he said he has no money. The following day, he bought a cow paid for in cold cash. But he had no money! Duh!
Though he did not like spending a lot for what he termed unimportant things for us, Daddy provided for our allowances when we were in college. He paid for my brothers' tuition fees, too! It must have been hard sending 3 children to college at a time. For my sister, myself and my Kuya Ronald were in college simultaneously and when Ate Yvette graduated, it was Derek's turn. Onjon was fortunate to be the only one they had to send to college too in his time. That is why he took advantage of it, I supposed. He took 2 years Hotel & Restaurant Management certificate course. He graduated and my dad paid for his graduation fees. Then he decided to continue for another 2 year for his bachelor's degree. He decided to join the graduation again, which, my Dad paid for (again)!
I guess he got so comfortable in getting allowance without working for it that Onjon decided to quit his short-lived job to take a caregiver course which cost a lot of money to take. My stingy but generous Dad, paid for his allowance (again!) while Kuya Ronald paid for his tuition.
Daddy was always proud of his children that he would always brag about them. Ate Yvette was a scholar and mathematician. Kuya Ronald was President of his class. Derek plays good basketball. I always win school contests. Onjon looks like John Estrada, to name a few.
He would boast about how his apo's (grandkids) are good looking. When people asked where his house was, he would answer "Pag nakakita ka na ng magagandang bata, yun ang bahay amin." (When you finally see pretty and handsome kids, that is where I live!) And that was even before my Fil-am kids were born! He had a pet name for MJ when she was a baby. He called her "ang-ang".
From college to working days, me and my sister lived in the city, coming home at least once every 2 weeks. When we failed to come home for 2 weekends in a row, he would tell Mommy: "it's like having kids overseas, for you hardly can see them anymore". Those proved to be prophetic words, for 3 of us out of 5 children now live outside of the Philippines.
When John came to visit the Philippines the 2nd time and it was established that I will migrate here with him, Daddy's last words to John before he left was "John, take care of Eileen!"
My only regret is that he was never able to carry my Fil-Am kids in his arms. When Jonei was born, he loved talking to her even if she cannot talk yet. He wanted me to put the earpiece on Jonei so she can hear him say "Hello, Jonei"!
I was pregnant with Peter when he was hospitalized prior to his demise. While we talked on the phone, he asked me when will I give birth to my son (for we knew his gender already from the sonogram). That was late March or early April of 2007. I told him "July". His reply was "July pa?" (that long?) He might have felt that he will not be able to see him anymore.
I told him to get better so he can come here to visit for he always wanted to come see me in Florida. He was telling all my relatives and friends there that he would come visit me. I do not know but something prompted me to pray with my Dad that time, which I never thought I would have the guts to do.
As we were praying, somebody who came in the hospital to visit him asked who he was talking to. I heard the pride in his voice when he said "Si Eileen. Ipinagdadasal ako." (It's Eileen. She was praying for me). It turned out to be my last conversation with him.I was not able to talk to him after he came home from the hospital. I even got mad at Mommy for not connecting the cordless phone I sent.
He was too tired to come to the phone and refused to talk to me when I called the house phone. I even made Mom promise that she will text me if the phone was already connected. But Mommy did not understand what I wanted and was waiting for my call instead. So I almost fainted when I got Tita Lina's call that he died.
For whatever reason which only He knows, God wanted that hospital conversation to be the last for me and my Dad. And I will forever be thankful to my husband John for allowing Peter to be my Dad's namesake.
Not being able to come home for the funeral was another God-only-knows situtation for me. The only thing that comes to me is that God did not want me to see Daddy in a casket the way He did not made me see Jojo (a person very dear to my heart) when he died.
But God allows me to see Daddy in my dreams. Every time I miss him, I would always dream of him. In one of them, it answered my regret about him not seeing Peter at all. I saw Daddy in the car with Peter. My dreams about him were mostly him being there for me. When I have questions in my mind about him, God answers it through dreams.
I thought the pain of losing him went away already but I just learned that it still hasn't, or that it might not. It just lies dormant for a while and when something triggers it, you feel it all over again. Twice, I saw Peter displaying Daddy's mannerisms. Sometimes, I would hear a song and I would be reminded of Daddy.
Today at the Father's Day service in the church, I was crying for I miss Daddy so much. I am crying as I was writing this too.
I was blessed to have surrogate Dads here where I'm at and I am thankful for them but I guess nothing can compare to my Dad.
Thank you very much Lord for giving me my Dad even though not for as long as I want it to be. He was not perfect, but he loved me and he's all that I got next to You. I praise Your name for the privilege of Your love and care through my earthly father. You gave him to me for You know he was the best person for the job. Eternal rest grant unto him o Lord, and let your perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen.
His work at the Department of Agrarian Reform brought him to a lot of places for conference or assignments. And whenever he came home, he had a present just for me. My two brothers didn't seem to mind at all. Two presents stayed in my memory. The red native hand woven dress from
When we were young, Daddy loved to show us off to his drinking buddies. He would call us to sing to them. I was always glad to do it. My brother Ronald (Kuya) used to do it all the time too, but there was once an instance when he didn't feel like doing it. His best repertoire when we were little was the song "Mama". Kuya's singing voice is really very good! That night, Daddy called him to sing. Kuya said, "I don't want to". It was our custom that you don't put your parents to shame, so my daddy whipped him in the butt, then ordered him to sing. With tears in his eyes, Kuya sang for him.
I guess I had a nice voice when I was little too, for one of Dad's friend and relative Danding Brotonel used to call me Nora Aunor (a famous singing superstar in the
I remember one time, when Daddy was stationed in Laguna if I remember it right, he brought me to their company Christmas Party. I had a white shoulder bag then that Ate Yvette gave me during one of her visits. I still recall being placed on top of a working desk to sing and sing and sing. Everybody gave me money for my singing that my little shoulder bag became full of big 1 peso coins. Later on, dad brought me to visit Ate Yvette in
My dad used to carry me all the time in his arms until I got too heavy for him, I guess. I remember him checking our hair for lice when we were little. If we had it, he will wash our hair with powder called "sevin", a chemical used to kill fungus in plants. He would order us to take a nap in the afternoon when we were little, and when we wake up, Mom already had snacks waiting for us.
Wherever Daddy was, Derek was there too. He was his pride and joy. He even had a term of endearment to him. He would call him "Lodrigo" in a melodious voice. My uncles would tell how my Dad would have bought him a car had Derek asked for one at that point in time.
Then Onjon came. He was the new apple of the eye. They were the new magnets. One time, Daddy was with his drinking buddies in Pook, when Onjon asked him if they can go home already. Daddy said "in a little while." As the night progressed, Onjon asked him again times and was met with the same answer. Then after a while, he told Daddy "If you won't leave and take me home, I will turn this table over! (pertaining to where the liquor and the "pulutan" (appetizer) was.) And Daddy said the same thing. So what Onjon did was just what he said he will, and the glasses and the liquor and everything on the table fell to the ground. What Daddy and his friends did? Laughed it out and spread the story. And so Onjon got his wish.
We had 2 passenger jeepneys when we were small. Both of them were driven and making money for us. I remember Daddy having a big empty can of pineapple juice which he used as a piggy bank. All of the coins the drivers would give at the end of the day went to that bank. One time, when Onjon was about 3 or 4, he was the king of the world so he was the one privileged to put the coins in the can. He did it so fast that Daddy was amazed how he did it. When Onjon stood up, a lot of peso coins fell from his pockets to the floor. Dad didn't get mad, just lovingly told him to put them back in the can.
When I was in grade school, Daddy and I used to shop for my dress before every school year's closing ceremony. Daddy would take me to Lemery to shop for my dress. That was because I got first honors from 1st to 6th grade and no one can take his pride of being the one to pin the ribbon or medal on me. I never complained nor disliked any of the dress that he bought for me, though in all honesty, they were not very pretty. I was just so happy he bought them. That is why I can not understand how my daughter MJ would always say "I don't like it" 90% of the time when I buy something for her.
He was a loving father. He used to bring home something for us everyday when he comes home from work. Normally, he would bring bread, or something special whenever he wins from one of his vices -cockfighting. Before he got issued a company vehicle, he commuted to and from work everyday. Whenever we hear the jeepney slowing down in the afternoon, all of us kids will rush and race towards the road for we knew Daddy had something for us. It only stopped when one of us almost got run over by the jeepney one time. After that, no more treats anymore when he came home.
My dad was a stingy person. He didn't like to spend on a lot of things except for the animals and his visitors and his sisters. We could afford it, but we lived frugally. It was Mommy who bought a lot of things in our house from her salary. We could afford to pay cash for our 1st refrigerator, but he chose to do it installment instead. Our first television was a hand-me-down from Inay, mom's mother. So was our sofa; And our bed; And the sewing machine. When we were in high school and college, his favorite line was "I have no money."
I remember my brother asking him for money one time and as usual, he said he has no money. The following day, he bought a cow paid for in cold cash. But he had no money! Duh!
Though he did not like spending a lot for what he termed unimportant things for us, Daddy provided for our allowances when we were in college. He paid for my brothers' tuition fees, too! It must have been hard sending 3 children to college at a time. For my sister, myself and my Kuya Ronald were in college simultaneously and when Ate Yvette graduated, it was Derek's turn. Onjon was fortunate to be the only one they had to send to college too in his time. That is why he took advantage of it, I supposed. He took 2 years Hotel & Restaurant Management certificate course. He graduated and my dad paid for his graduation fees. Then he decided to continue for another 2 year for his bachelor's degree. He decided to join the graduation again, which, my Dad paid for (again)!
I guess he got so comfortable in getting allowance without working for it that Onjon decided to quit his short-lived job to take a caregiver course which cost a lot of money to take. My stingy but generous Dad, paid for his allowance (again!) while Kuya Ronald paid for his tuition.
Daddy was always proud of his children that he would always brag about them. Ate Yvette was a scholar and mathematician. Kuya Ronald was President of his class. Derek plays good basketball. I always win school contests. Onjon looks like John Estrada, to name a few.
He would boast about how his apo's (grandkids) are good looking. When people asked where his house was, he would answer "Pag nakakita ka na ng magagandang bata, yun ang bahay amin." (When you finally see pretty and handsome kids, that is where I live!) And that was even before my Fil-am kids were born! He had a pet name for MJ when she was a baby. He called her "ang-ang".
From college to working days, me and my sister lived in the city, coming home at least once every 2 weeks. When we failed to come home for 2 weekends in a row, he would tell Mommy: "it's like having kids overseas, for you hardly can see them anymore". Those proved to be prophetic words, for 3 of us out of 5 children now live outside of the Philippines.
When John came to visit the Philippines the 2nd time and it was established that I will migrate here with him, Daddy's last words to John before he left was "John, take care of Eileen!"
My only regret is that he was never able to carry my Fil-Am kids in his arms. When Jonei was born, he loved talking to her even if she cannot talk yet. He wanted me to put the earpiece on Jonei so she can hear him say "Hello, Jonei"!
I was pregnant with Peter when he was hospitalized prior to his demise. While we talked on the phone, he asked me when will I give birth to my son (for we knew his gender already from the sonogram). That was late March or early April of 2007. I told him "July". His reply was "July pa?" (that long?) He might have felt that he will not be able to see him anymore.
I told him to get better so he can come here to visit for he always wanted to come see me in Florida. He was telling all my relatives and friends there that he would come visit me. I do not know but something prompted me to pray with my Dad that time, which I never thought I would have the guts to do.
As we were praying, somebody who came in the hospital to visit him asked who he was talking to. I heard the pride in his voice when he said "Si Eileen. Ipinagdadasal ako." (It's Eileen. She was praying for me). It turned out to be my last conversation with him.I was not able to talk to him after he came home from the hospital. I even got mad at Mommy for not connecting the cordless phone I sent.
He was too tired to come to the phone and refused to talk to me when I called the house phone. I even made Mom promise that she will text me if the phone was already connected. But Mommy did not understand what I wanted and was waiting for my call instead. So I almost fainted when I got Tita Lina's call that he died.
For whatever reason which only He knows, God wanted that hospital conversation to be the last for me and my Dad. And I will forever be thankful to my husband John for allowing Peter to be my Dad's namesake.
Not being able to come home for the funeral was another God-only-knows situtation for me. The only thing that comes to me is that God did not want me to see Daddy in a casket the way He did not made me see Jojo (a person very dear to my heart) when he died.
But God allows me to see Daddy in my dreams. Every time I miss him, I would always dream of him. In one of them, it answered my regret about him not seeing Peter at all. I saw Daddy in the car with Peter. My dreams about him were mostly him being there for me. When I have questions in my mind about him, God answers it through dreams.
I thought the pain of losing him went away already but I just learned that it still hasn't, or that it might not. It just lies dormant for a while and when something triggers it, you feel it all over again. Twice, I saw Peter displaying Daddy's mannerisms. Sometimes, I would hear a song and I would be reminded of Daddy.
Today at the Father's Day service in the church, I was crying for I miss Daddy so much. I am crying as I was writing this too.
I was blessed to have surrogate Dads here where I'm at and I am thankful for them but I guess nothing can compare to my Dad.
Thank you very much Lord for giving me my Dad even though not for as long as I want it to be. He was not perfect, but he loved me and he's all that I got next to You. I praise Your name for the privilege of Your love and care through my earthly father. You gave him to me for You know he was the best person for the job. Eternal rest grant unto him o Lord, and let your perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
MER'S CLUB, YOUNG ANGKERS
Keep smiling, keep shining knowing you can always count on me;
In good times and bad times, I'll be on your side forevermore
That's what friends are for.... Dionne Warwick
MER'S CLUB MEMBERS:
Myrene Holgado Mendoza, born July 24, 1967
Eileen Barrios Fajardo, born March 15, 1968
Rosalie Fajardo Mendoza, born April 28, 1966
YOUNG ANGKERS:
MER'S Club members plus
Virginia Vergara Casalme, born May 21, 1968 &
Maggie Dacasin Vergara, born March 13, 1969
LOCATION: Poblacion, Agoncillo, Batangas, Philippines
GEOGRAPHY: I lived in the main highway. Directly parallel to my street in the south is where Maggie who we called Neenee, Osang and Myrene lived. Virgie lived next to Neenee's house in the westside.
It started as MER's club. For we were classmates in grade school at Agoncillo Central School, and we have something in common. Rosalie or Osang, is Myrene or Mye's and my first cousin. That felt like Mye and I were are cousins, too! We used to walk to school (about half a mile or so) together. Mye and Osang live next to each other and in the next street parallel to mine. But we they will wait for me in the morning so we could go to school together.
That time, Osang was the smallest, Mye was the tallest, and I, obviously, was in between. Today, Osang is still the smallest but I am the tallest. I overtook Mye in the height department.
Osang's house was our "tambayan" (hang-out). They have a great grandma there we called "Inampo". She was a fragile, old little woman. I cannot forget her, for if I remember it right, she taught us this little poem:
Barasong bakal (arms of steel)
Ulong matalino (intelligent head)
Pusong walang gulat (heart that can never be shocked)
I'm very well, thank you!
The 3 of us did a lot of things together. If I were to write them all, I would not be able to sleep at all. So I will just share memorable ones.
Once, we were walking in my street going home from school. We started to play a game where we would leave our slippers behind and pretend we forget them, then sprint back to retrieve them, laughing all the way. We did that over and over again.
When we were in grade school, we almost always eat lunch at school. I remember Mommy cutting up a banana leaf into 2 rectangles, then heating them up over fire or heaping coals to make them soft, putting one on top of the other to form a cross, then wrap my lunch with them. which normally consisted of rice and meat, or fish, or eggs. Sometimes, I would request that she put rock salt in between the leaves when I had hard-boiled eggs with my rice. How I miss the aroma of the food upon unwrapping them.
But there were occasions when we would go home to Osang's house for lunch. (In Osang's house, there were lots of cats. I did not like them, but Osang would always carry one.) Once, we all decided to take a bath after we ate before we went back to school. It was in front of Osang's house where the hose ran. Since I did not have fresh clothes to wear, we decided to do it without, as in totally naked. We were sparying each other and having fun, totally unmindful of what's going on around us until our boy classmates happened to walk by. Then we all rushed to cover our private parts, panicked and pink in the cheeks. That was the talk of the class for a while...
When we were in 2nd grade I believe, our school distributed "nutriban" or should be aptly spelled nutri-bun, for that was what it was - a big, nutritious bun. I remember not being able to finish any of them. They were made by our classmate Resty Reyes' family, who distributed them after lunch everyday.
There was an afternoon that Mye did not go home with us. Osang and I and his brother whom I fondly call Taking Gerald, walked home with our relative and classmate Geraldine (Gene) Fajardo. Again, it was in my road. Halfway down our house, she saw "tuba" plants (croton oil plant). They have fruits. She then enjoined us to eat them, for she said they taste good, and "tuba" is a proven medicinal plant. So we did. It really tasted good, like nuts.
That night, Mom brought me to Tita Nerre's house for I was throwing up. There, we saw Osang and Gerald were throwing up too!. Then they asked us what we ate. We told them "tuba". Then Tita Nerre, who is a faith healer who uses herbal plants, remarked "that is not edible for it can poison you". Ate Julia, Mye's mother was so thankful that she was not with us that time. Lucky Mye!
Osang's place was where we used to hang-out. It was there that we decided to call ourselves the MER's club. I guess I must have loved writing by then for it was me who wrote our so-called "charter". I wrote a copy for each one of us as photocopying was unheard of by then. For the life of me, however, I can't remember a word on our rules no matter how much I try. Oh, I would give anything to have a copy of that! What I can remember though. was Osang's request that it be an exclusive one and we don't include a certain somebody in our club. (Her name does not start witn M or E nor R, duhh!)
We never attended a birthday party for Osang ever! For there was none. Her birthday fell on the day of the town fiesta so everybody was busy in their own homes. She always had grand celebrations, though, for every year, a pig was being slaughtered and cooked into different pork dishes. And every birthday, she got to attend the Holy Mass and dress up for the procession in the evenings til she got tired of it.
It was my grandparents' custom every Lent season to have the Passion of the Christ read (actually, sung) in their house. It could take the whole day and sometimes night too, for they sing in a slow, flowing, uneven tune in a very high pitch that gave birth to a description given whenever a person sings in a flowing, out of tune manner - "parang nabasa ng pasion" which means "like singing The Passion". Family and friends gather and were offered refreshment. It was in one of those events that we first tried to smoke a cigarette. It was late at night when I walked in on Mye and Osang inside Nanang's retail store smoking "alhambra", an unfiltered cigar. I asked them "what are you doing?" "Smoking, dummy! Wanna try?" they replied. I did, and coughed. I did not like the taste. Luckily, we did not get caught.
I got transferred to Pook Elementary School when we were in 5th grade, allegedly because of class merit issues. Myrene and I were always in competition for the first honors since 1st grade. My cousin and our good chum Baldwin Cantos always was next. Myrene and I were always tied for 1st, except in 4th grade. They said I was supposed to be the 1st honor, but during graduation day, they had it in such a way that there was no mention or announcement of 1st honor, just honors, but whoever's name was called first was the first honors, and so on. My name was called first, then Mye's, then Bald's.
Anyway, in 4th grade, our teacher was Mrs. Glory Solis. During the finals, Mrs. Solis separated the three of us in order to determine who really was her best student to be given the 1st honors. Unfortunately, for her, she did not stay to watch us. (She must have trusted us so much!) While she was out, the three of us copied from each other answers to questions we found hard and thought we might have had answered wrong. So when she checked our papers (which I clearly remember we used a big, wide spiral ruled notebook), we all got the same answer to all the questions. I believe we all got perfect scores! Sad to say, We did not deserve the trust she placed on us. (The sins of our youth. sigh!)
So I spent the rest of my elementary days with Virgie. It became her then who I used to walk with to and from school almost everyday. Maggie's family still lived in Pangasinan that time.
It was in Pook that I got closer to the Sarmiento Family. I chose Ninang Fe as my girl scout sponsor. Virgie and I used to go to their house day before their fiesta to help in the preparations. Once, our brothers were with us, Kuya Ronald and Tess. We were walking on the way to Ninang Fe's house from our other relative's house when Tess suggested Kuya and myself put our arms around each other, as he and Virgie would do, to fool people who did not know who we were. into thinking we were sweethearts instead of brothers and sisters. That was so fun that our belly hurt from laughing. I still remember how Tess' and Virgie's dimples will show when they laugh or just smile.
We were in 6th grade when Kuya Noel Cabello and Kuntil Mendoza got transferred to Pook too. Kuntil had very little desire to study then. He would not do his homework and sometimes cut classes. Since he lived very near to us, his teachers asked me to relay the message to his parents. And obedient that I was, I did.
The following morning, Kuntil was waiting for me in front of their house. He was carrying a rock to throw at me. He was crying. He said to me: "Bakit ka nagsumbong sa mga tatay? Napalo tuloy ako". (Why did you tell my parents? I got whipped! I was so scared that I did not have the nerve to pass him. Luckily, his dad, Manong Ceres, was just lurking behind, anticipating what Kuntil would do. He told me "go, Eileen, go! After that, I changed my route so I did not have to pass by his house anymore until the time he finally came to his senses.
By the way, in our 6th and final year in elementary, Mye and I both graduated valedictorian in our respective schools. Balds was her salutatorian while mine was Estelita Landicho.
We were already high school sophomore when Nene's family moved back to our place. She was a year our junior. She went to St. Mary's, Osang and Virgie to Agoncillo Institute, I went to OLCA (Our Lady of Caysasay Academy) and Mye went to Sta. Teresita Academy then also St. Mary's later on.
It was then too that the Young Angkers was formed. It was our sisters who coined the term for us. I've been searching for the best english translation for the word "angkira" which was native to our town, where angkers came from, but the closest I can get is the word flirt. Angkira though, was used to refer to flirting not only concerning boys, but flirting with life. It had to do with fun and being carefree too.
Virgie's dad ran for Barangay Chairman when we were in high school. During election day, I was wearing my brand new blue jeans (which was a very rare occurence). Voting precinct was Agoncillo Central School. In the northern entrance of that school was a steep concrete stairs. While waiting for each other, our friends Jerry Villanueva and Biloy Vergara were talking with each other very near the top of the stairs while Virgie and I were down at the opposite end. Jerry was on his racer bicycle, going front and back in a playful rhythm. Then he missed the brake later on, causing him to roll over downwards to where I was. Thank God, both of us were not hurt, but for whatever reason, his bike caused a rip forming an L shape in my brand new jeans. I was so afraid of Mom getting angry that I borrowed something to change with from Virgie. So I came home in a skirt, which, thank God mom did not notice at all, and placed the torn jeans at the very back of my cabinet/dresser, praying Mom would never see it. My prayer was answered. (So if, by any chance, you are reading this, Bade', remember you still owe me a pair of jeans. hehe.)
With the exception of Mye who was an only girl, all Young Angkers have older sisters who were also friends with one another. Nene has Geocilyn (Joy), Marilyn and Marilou, Virgie has Precy, Osang has Milette, and I have Ate Yvette. It is good to note that our families were good friends as well.
Joy was a born organizer. It was she who would always think of fun games and activities for us. When the TV show Tarzan dominated the boob tube, she led the gathering of vines in the nearby forest so we can hang it in the mango tree in the "lagnas" (a shallow dale) in between my aunt Reking's and Virgie's grandparent's property. Girls and boys alternate on swinging in the vine while imitating Tarzan yelling wo-o-wo-o-oh. It was our turn to swing when the boys connived to join us girls in the vine, that the vine broke. We girls got squashed by the boys. We were so mad at them for aside from the pain and humiliation, it ended our precious game.
Neenee's house became the hang-out place of all, young and old. Their house always had snake when we were young, but it never stopped us. The snake(s) did not bother us, anyway. It was in their house that Joy made us replicate the Flores de Mayo celebration, where we would kneel holding flowers in our hands to offer to the Virgin Mary in a make-believe altar, while everybody was singing "Itong Bulaklak na Alay" meaning this flower of offering. As in the real one, we were given goodies after our turn, and that time it was chicharon (pork skins) and candies.
We loved to go to dances. We were always invited to one, whether local or next barangay or next town, starting in high school. It is the camaraderie and unity that I cannot forget for in those dances, our boy-friends, consisting of our brothers, relatives and friends would protect us at all cost, even from shame, dancing with us first before dancing with the girls of their choice to make sure somebody will dance with us. It doesn't look good for a girl to be branded couch-potatoes. With pride I will say, though, that they really need not do that, for we were not lacking for partners who invited us to dance with them. Those dances provided us one of the opportunities to see our crushes.
When we attend dances, a jeepney from the host club would come before dark to get us. Since Osang is the slowest to get ready (as in turtle slow), we would give instructions to the coordinator to go to her house first so she can get ready before everybody else. Then she will be the last to be collected but everytime, we still had a long wait.
Another most-awaited annual event we had was All Saints' Day every November 1st. There was just one town cemetery so that was a good opportunity to reconnect with friends, families and especially boys. You could not imagine how many sleepless nights we had during sleep-overs talking about them boys.
It was a custom in some parts of the Philippines to offer food to the departed during All Saint's Day. Tita Nerre, Osang's mom, followed that. Once, on a sleepover at Osang's house on All Saint's night, we got so hungry that we ate the offered food for the soul of Ate Chita, Osang's departed sister while everybody was asleep. If I remembered correctly, there were banana, suman (rice cake in banana leaf)and meat. The following morning, we woke up to the sound of Tita Nerre's voice excitedly remarking that her daughter Chita must have liked her offering for she ate it all. The three of us, Mye, Osang and me were giggling and rolling over with laughter upstairs. (It was almost 3 a.m. here and I was suppressing my giggle while writing this, for John might be woken up).
Except for Virgie who went to school in Batangas, we all went to Manila for college. We visited each other while we were there. Osang and Neeneee once shared Aunt Reking's boarding house and it was there that we painted Kuya Ronald's face with make-up. Neenee and Osang helped, but i think it was me who did most of it, for I liked experimenting on make-ups then. When we saw our finished product, we were satisfied. For Kuya would have been a pretty girl had he been one.
The Young Angkers would always be part of the Santacruzan, the culminating activity for the Flores de Mayo Festival in honor of Queen Helena and Constantine in their search for the cross in Jerusalem. We would all be Queens with diffent partner every year. We would all be dolled-up and dressed with gowns.
Because there were limited mode of transportation then, we walked almost everywhere we went. We walked to the lake to go swimming, a good 3 or 4 miles or so. We walked to attend fiestas together, from Adia, Subic to Coral na Munti or San Jacinto. We had to make sure Neenee would not be bored, though, for she had that habit of wanting to go home even if we were enjoying ourselves. So we would always make sure Neenee was happy. For we would not allow her to walk home alone.
Another unforgettable activity is the fund-raising activity for our dances. We would tie a big rope a tree or post while holding the other end by hand to stop vehicles so we could solicit money from drivers. It was always held in the main road and done during Black Saturday for we have lots of visitors swimming in our beaches that day, taking advantage of the long vacation. Boys and girls in unity would contribute time and efforts to ensure the success of those endeavors. When we were done, all of us would walk to the beach to swim and relax.
After college, we had our own circle of friends, jobs but we would still get together whenever we can. Then Neenee married my Kuya Ronald. I was Maid of Honor in her wedding. All Young Angkers were part of the entourage. The rest were bridesmaids. Then Virgie married Rolly. I was a bridesmaid, too, if not Maid of Honor too. Then I did. Because I didn't want to get married, I didn't invite most of my friends nor chose who will be part of the entourage. I let them do it for me. I was pregnant, I think, or having domestic problems when Osang got married so I regretfully wasn't able to attend. It was the only one I missed.
Last to wed was Mye. How I wanted to be part of the entourage but that was contrary to custom. I was already married. I had my moment though, when it was announced that single ladies should come forward for the ceremonial throwing of the bouquet. Mye wanted me to be in the picture, so I went. I remember Mye's sister-in-law Sonia being confused, because she knew I was not single anymore. Mye hushed her. And I purposely turned away when the bouquet was being thrown for there is no way that I should catch it at all!
Leading our different lives, we still had time to connect even if we were all married. Thank you Lord for special occasions which made them possible like birthdays, christening, fiestas, or whenever Neenee would come home for a visit.
At present, Neenee and her family lives in London. She and Mye are godmothers to my eldest child MJ. I am godmother to Neenee's only daughter Megan. Mye lives in Manila and works at China Bank. Virgie is in Italy. Osang lives in Cavite and works in Manila. I am here and so homesick. But we still find time to communicate to one another especially during birthdays. Praise God for the advent of high-tech communications that made it possible for us to reconnect especially now that Osang is already a Facebook member.
We might be getting old, but we will forever be the Young Angkers.
Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work:
If one falls down, his friend can help him up.
But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!"Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 New King James Version
In good times and bad times, I'll be on your side forevermore
That's what friends are for.... Dionne Warwick
MER'S CLUB MEMBERS:
Myrene Holgado Mendoza, born July 24, 1967
Eileen Barrios Fajardo, born March 15, 1968
Rosalie Fajardo Mendoza, born April 28, 1966
YOUNG ANGKERS:
MER'S Club members plus
Virginia Vergara Casalme, born May 21, 1968 &
Maggie Dacasin Vergara, born March 13, 1969
LOCATION: Poblacion, Agoncillo, Batangas, Philippines
GEOGRAPHY: I lived in the main highway. Directly parallel to my street in the south is where Maggie who we called Neenee, Osang and Myrene lived. Virgie lived next to Neenee's house in the westside.
It started as MER's club. For we were classmates in grade school at Agoncillo Central School, and we have something in common. Rosalie or Osang, is Myrene or Mye's and my first cousin. That felt like Mye and I were are cousins, too! We used to walk to school (about half a mile or so) together. Mye and Osang live next to each other and in the next street parallel to mine. But we they will wait for me in the morning so we could go to school together.
That time, Osang was the smallest, Mye was the tallest, and I, obviously, was in between. Today, Osang is still the smallest but I am the tallest. I overtook Mye in the height department.
Osang's house was our "tambayan" (hang-out). They have a great grandma there we called "Inampo". She was a fragile, old little woman. I cannot forget her, for if I remember it right, she taught us this little poem:
Barasong bakal (arms of steel)
Ulong matalino (intelligent head)
Pusong walang gulat (heart that can never be shocked)
I'm very well, thank you!
The 3 of us did a lot of things together. If I were to write them all, I would not be able to sleep at all. So I will just share memorable ones.
Once, we were walking in my street going home from school. We started to play a game where we would leave our slippers behind and pretend we forget them, then sprint back to retrieve them, laughing all the way. We did that over and over again.
When we were in grade school, we almost always eat lunch at school. I remember Mommy cutting up a banana leaf into 2 rectangles, then heating them up over fire or heaping coals to make them soft, putting one on top of the other to form a cross, then wrap my lunch with them. which normally consisted of rice and meat, or fish, or eggs. Sometimes, I would request that she put rock salt in between the leaves when I had hard-boiled eggs with my rice. How I miss the aroma of the food upon unwrapping them.
But there were occasions when we would go home to Osang's house for lunch. (In Osang's house, there were lots of cats. I did not like them, but Osang would always carry one.) Once, we all decided to take a bath after we ate before we went back to school. It was in front of Osang's house where the hose ran. Since I did not have fresh clothes to wear, we decided to do it without, as in totally naked. We were sparying each other and having fun, totally unmindful of what's going on around us until our boy classmates happened to walk by. Then we all rushed to cover our private parts, panicked and pink in the cheeks. That was the talk of the class for a while...
When we were in 2nd grade I believe, our school distributed "nutriban" or should be aptly spelled nutri-bun, for that was what it was - a big, nutritious bun. I remember not being able to finish any of them. They were made by our classmate Resty Reyes' family, who distributed them after lunch everyday.
There was an afternoon that Mye did not go home with us. Osang and I and his brother whom I fondly call Taking Gerald, walked home with our relative and classmate Geraldine (Gene) Fajardo. Again, it was in my road. Halfway down our house, she saw "tuba" plants (croton oil plant). They have fruits. She then enjoined us to eat them, for she said they taste good, and "tuba" is a proven medicinal plant. So we did. It really tasted good, like nuts.
That night, Mom brought me to Tita Nerre's house for I was throwing up. There, we saw Osang and Gerald were throwing up too!. Then they asked us what we ate. We told them "tuba". Then Tita Nerre, who is a faith healer who uses herbal plants, remarked "that is not edible for it can poison you". Ate Julia, Mye's mother was so thankful that she was not with us that time. Lucky Mye!
Osang's place was where we used to hang-out. It was there that we decided to call ourselves the MER's club. I guess I must have loved writing by then for it was me who wrote our so-called "charter". I wrote a copy for each one of us as photocopying was unheard of by then. For the life of me, however, I can't remember a word on our rules no matter how much I try. Oh, I would give anything to have a copy of that! What I can remember though. was Osang's request that it be an exclusive one and we don't include a certain somebody in our club. (Her name does not start witn M or E nor R, duhh!)
"And it came to pass, when he had made an end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.
And Saul took him that day, and would let him go no more home to his father's house.
Then Jonathan and David made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul."1 Samuel 18:1-3 New King James Version
And Saul took him that day, and would let him go no more home to his father's house.
Then Jonathan and David made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul."1 Samuel 18:1-3 New King James Version
It was my grandparents' custom every Lent season to have the Passion of the Christ read (actually, sung) in their house. It could take the whole day and sometimes night too, for they sing in a slow, flowing, uneven tune in a very high pitch that gave birth to a description given whenever a person sings in a flowing, out of tune manner - "parang nabasa ng pasion" which means "like singing The Passion". Family and friends gather and were offered refreshment. It was in one of those events that we first tried to smoke a cigarette. It was late at night when I walked in on Mye and Osang inside Nanang's retail store smoking "alhambra", an unfiltered cigar. I asked them "what are you doing?" "Smoking, dummy! Wanna try?" they replied. I did, and coughed. I did not like the taste. Luckily, we did not get caught.
I got transferred to Pook Elementary School when we were in 5th grade, allegedly because of class merit issues. Myrene and I were always in competition for the first honors since 1st grade. My cousin and our good chum Baldwin Cantos always was next. Myrene and I were always tied for 1st, except in 4th grade. They said I was supposed to be the 1st honor, but during graduation day, they had it in such a way that there was no mention or announcement of 1st honor, just honors, but whoever's name was called first was the first honors, and so on. My name was called first, then Mye's, then Bald's.
Anyway, in 4th grade, our teacher was Mrs. Glory Solis. During the finals, Mrs. Solis separated the three of us in order to determine who really was her best student to be given the 1st honors. Unfortunately, for her, she did not stay to watch us. (She must have trusted us so much!) While she was out, the three of us copied from each other answers to questions we found hard and thought we might have had answered wrong. So when she checked our papers (which I clearly remember we used a big, wide spiral ruled notebook), we all got the same answer to all the questions. I believe we all got perfect scores! Sad to say, We did not deserve the trust she placed on us. (The sins of our youth. sigh!)
So I spent the rest of my elementary days with Virgie. It became her then who I used to walk with to and from school almost everyday. Maggie's family still lived in Pangasinan that time.
It was in Pook that I got closer to the Sarmiento Family. I chose Ninang Fe as my girl scout sponsor. Virgie and I used to go to their house day before their fiesta to help in the preparations. Once, our brothers were with us, Kuya Ronald and Tess. We were walking on the way to Ninang Fe's house from our other relative's house when Tess suggested Kuya and myself put our arms around each other, as he and Virgie would do, to fool people who did not know who we were. into thinking we were sweethearts instead of brothers and sisters. That was so fun that our belly hurt from laughing. I still remember how Tess' and Virgie's dimples will show when they laugh or just smile.
We were in 6th grade when Kuya Noel Cabello and Kuntil Mendoza got transferred to Pook too. Kuntil had very little desire to study then. He would not do his homework and sometimes cut classes. Since he lived very near to us, his teachers asked me to relay the message to his parents. And obedient that I was, I did.
The following morning, Kuntil was waiting for me in front of their house. He was carrying a rock to throw at me. He was crying. He said to me: "Bakit ka nagsumbong sa mga tatay? Napalo tuloy ako". (Why did you tell my parents? I got whipped! I was so scared that I did not have the nerve to pass him. Luckily, his dad, Manong Ceres, was just lurking behind, anticipating what Kuntil would do. He told me "go, Eileen, go! After that, I changed my route so I did not have to pass by his house anymore until the time he finally came to his senses.
By the way, in our 6th and final year in elementary, Mye and I both graduated valedictorian in our respective schools. Balds was her salutatorian while mine was Estelita Landicho.
We were already high school sophomore when Nene's family moved back to our place. She was a year our junior. She went to St. Mary's, Osang and Virgie to Agoncillo Institute, I went to OLCA (Our Lady of Caysasay Academy) and Mye went to Sta. Teresita Academy then also St. Mary's later on.
It was then too that the Young Angkers was formed. It was our sisters who coined the term for us. I've been searching for the best english translation for the word "angkira" which was native to our town, where angkers came from, but the closest I can get is the word flirt. Angkira though, was used to refer to flirting not only concerning boys, but flirting with life. It had to do with fun and being carefree too.
Virgie's dad ran for Barangay Chairman when we were in high school. During election day, I was wearing my brand new blue jeans (which was a very rare occurence). Voting precinct was Agoncillo Central School. In the northern entrance of that school was a steep concrete stairs. While waiting for each other, our friends Jerry Villanueva and Biloy Vergara were talking with each other very near the top of the stairs while Virgie and I were down at the opposite end. Jerry was on his racer bicycle, going front and back in a playful rhythm. Then he missed the brake later on, causing him to roll over downwards to where I was. Thank God, both of us were not hurt, but for whatever reason, his bike caused a rip forming an L shape in my brand new jeans. I was so afraid of Mom getting angry that I borrowed something to change with from Virgie. So I came home in a skirt, which, thank God mom did not notice at all, and placed the torn jeans at the very back of my cabinet/dresser, praying Mom would never see it. My prayer was answered. (So if, by any chance, you are reading this, Bade', remember you still owe me a pair of jeans. hehe.)
With the exception of Mye who was an only girl, all Young Angkers have older sisters who were also friends with one another. Nene has Geocilyn (Joy), Marilyn and Marilou, Virgie has Precy, Osang has Milette, and I have Ate Yvette. It is good to note that our families were good friends as well.
Joy was a born organizer. It was she who would always think of fun games and activities for us. When the TV show Tarzan dominated the boob tube, she led the gathering of vines in the nearby forest so we can hang it in the mango tree in the "lagnas" (a shallow dale) in between my aunt Reking's and Virgie's grandparent's property. Girls and boys alternate on swinging in the vine while imitating Tarzan yelling wo-o-wo-o-oh. It was our turn to swing when the boys connived to join us girls in the vine, that the vine broke. We girls got squashed by the boys. We were so mad at them for aside from the pain and humiliation, it ended our precious game.
Neenee's house became the hang-out place of all, young and old. Their house always had snake when we were young, but it never stopped us. The snake(s) did not bother us, anyway. It was in their house that Joy made us replicate the Flores de Mayo celebration, where we would kneel holding flowers in our hands to offer to the Virgin Mary in a make-believe altar, while everybody was singing "Itong Bulaklak na Alay" meaning this flower of offering. As in the real one, we were given goodies after our turn, and that time it was chicharon (pork skins) and candies.
We loved to go to dances. We were always invited to one, whether local or next barangay or next town, starting in high school. It is the camaraderie and unity that I cannot forget for in those dances, our boy-friends, consisting of our brothers, relatives and friends would protect us at all cost, even from shame, dancing with us first before dancing with the girls of their choice to make sure somebody will dance with us. It doesn't look good for a girl to be branded couch-potatoes. With pride I will say, though, that they really need not do that, for we were not lacking for partners who invited us to dance with them. Those dances provided us one of the opportunities to see our crushes.
When we attend dances, a jeepney from the host club would come before dark to get us. Since Osang is the slowest to get ready (as in turtle slow), we would give instructions to the coordinator to go to her house first so she can get ready before everybody else. Then she will be the last to be collected but everytime, we still had a long wait.
Another most-awaited annual event we had was All Saints' Day every November 1st. There was just one town cemetery so that was a good opportunity to reconnect with friends, families and especially boys. You could not imagine how many sleepless nights we had during sleep-overs talking about them boys.
It was a custom in some parts of the Philippines to offer food to the departed during All Saint's Day. Tita Nerre, Osang's mom, followed that. Once, on a sleepover at Osang's house on All Saint's night, we got so hungry that we ate the offered food for the soul of Ate Chita, Osang's departed sister while everybody was asleep. If I remembered correctly, there were banana, suman (rice cake in banana leaf)and meat. The following morning, we woke up to the sound of Tita Nerre's voice excitedly remarking that her daughter Chita must have liked her offering for she ate it all. The three of us, Mye, Osang and me were giggling and rolling over with laughter upstairs. (It was almost 3 a.m. here and I was suppressing my giggle while writing this, for John might be woken up).
Except for Virgie who went to school in Batangas, we all went to Manila for college. We visited each other while we were there. Osang and Neeneee once shared Aunt Reking's boarding house and it was there that we painted Kuya Ronald's face with make-up. Neenee and Osang helped, but i think it was me who did most of it, for I liked experimenting on make-ups then. When we saw our finished product, we were satisfied. For Kuya would have been a pretty girl had he been one.
The Young Angkers would always be part of the Santacruzan, the culminating activity for the Flores de Mayo Festival in honor of Queen Helena and Constantine in their search for the cross in Jerusalem. We would all be Queens with diffent partner every year. We would all be dolled-up and dressed with gowns.
Because there were limited mode of transportation then, we walked almost everywhere we went. We walked to the lake to go swimming, a good 3 or 4 miles or so. We walked to attend fiestas together, from Adia, Subic to Coral na Munti or San Jacinto. We had to make sure Neenee would not be bored, though, for she had that habit of wanting to go home even if we were enjoying ourselves. So we would always make sure Neenee was happy. For we would not allow her to walk home alone.
Another unforgettable activity is the fund-raising activity for our dances. We would tie a big rope a tree or post while holding the other end by hand to stop vehicles so we could solicit money from drivers. It was always held in the main road and done during Black Saturday for we have lots of visitors swimming in our beaches that day, taking advantage of the long vacation. Boys and girls in unity would contribute time and efforts to ensure the success of those endeavors. When we were done, all of us would walk to the beach to swim and relax.
After college, we had our own circle of friends, jobs but we would still get together whenever we can. Then Neenee married my Kuya Ronald. I was Maid of Honor in her wedding. All Young Angkers were part of the entourage. The rest were bridesmaids. Then Virgie married Rolly. I was a bridesmaid, too, if not Maid of Honor too. Then I did. Because I didn't want to get married, I didn't invite most of my friends nor chose who will be part of the entourage. I let them do it for me. I was pregnant, I think, or having domestic problems when Osang got married so I regretfully wasn't able to attend. It was the only one I missed.
Last to wed was Mye. How I wanted to be part of the entourage but that was contrary to custom. I was already married. I had my moment though, when it was announced that single ladies should come forward for the ceremonial throwing of the bouquet. Mye wanted me to be in the picture, so I went. I remember Mye's sister-in-law Sonia being confused, because she knew I was not single anymore. Mye hushed her. And I purposely turned away when the bouquet was being thrown for there is no way that I should catch it at all!
Leading our different lives, we still had time to connect even if we were all married. Thank you Lord for special occasions which made them possible like birthdays, christening, fiestas, or whenever Neenee would come home for a visit.
At present, Neenee and her family lives in London. She and Mye are godmothers to my eldest child MJ. I am godmother to Neenee's only daughter Megan. Mye lives in Manila and works at China Bank. Virgie is in Italy. Osang lives in Cavite and works in Manila. I am here and so homesick. But we still find time to communicate to one another especially during birthdays. Praise God for the advent of high-tech communications that made it possible for us to reconnect especially now that Osang is already a Facebook member.
We might be getting old, but we will forever be the Young Angkers.
Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work:
If one falls down, his friend can help him up.
But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!"Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 New King James Version
--that in all things God may be glorified--
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Indian Mango Trees
A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. -- John Muir
When there were just 4 of us kids, we had 6 indian mango trees in our home in the Philippines, 1 in front and 5 in the back. Each of us has our own tree. The one in the front is Kuya Ronald's. Just behind the pig corral in the north side is Daddy's while Derek's is the one on the south side of it. Mine is behind daddy's and Ate Yvette's is behind Derek's. The lone one in the center at the back of the property is mommy's. Mommy's tree yielded fruit much much later than everybody else's but we still had lots and lots of fruits. Our mango trees were so famous (because we were blessed to have them ahead of the others.) Friends and family near or far would come to our house to taste them. We were able to give them away and sell them when someone wants to buy them or when our parents needed extra money.
Derek's tree always yielded the best looking and tasting fruits. I recall hearing from somebody that animal manure are very good fertilizers. It must have been true, for Derek's tree is very close to the pigs' waste canal. Among all the trees, his always had fruits all over; there were even times when the fruits seemed too heavy for the tree that they would touch the ground. I used to bite the good-looking ones while they were still in the tree and if they didn't taste ripe enough for me, I would leave them in the tree - with bite marks. Whenever Derek saw one, he will tell everybody " Eileen did it again!"
One time, while I was in 3rd or 4th grade (I was 8 or 9 years old), my Uncle Sencio told my mom that he will get some mangoes for his family. When I heard of it, I volunteered to do it. Immediately, I climbed my tree and picked mangoes, letting them drop in the ground while my sister Yvette was picking them up to put them in the bag. I was trying to reach for some more, when I stepped on a baby branch that wasn't able to support my weight. I fell.
The next thing that I remembered, I awoke from sleep. Apparently, I passed out. When I opened my eyes, I was already in the front of the house, in a bench under Kuya Ronald's tree. Upon waking up, the first thing I saw was Dr. Cabanero with a syringe in her hand, then my Kuya Ronald holding a big bolo knife (machete) crying and uttering these words: If Eileen dies, I will kill that tree. Hu hu. Everybody rejoiced for I was ok, afterall. (It was much, much later though, that I learned Mom did a cpr on me).
{(It just dawned on me how much the apostles and the believers then must have rejoiced upon learning that the Lord Jesus rose up from the dead!), Mark 16:6-But he said to them, "Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth who was crucifies. He is risen, He is not here. See the place where they laid Him."}
My mother then asked my brothers Ronald and Roderick and sister Yvette to keep me awake by playing cards with me. They tried so hard but I didn't want to, I just wanted to sleep. (My mother believed that if I go back to sleep, something bad will happen to me, according to old foklores). So Mom dressed me up and the next thing I knew, we were on the way to a faith healer 4 towns away from us, who specializes in orthopedic massages. His name was Cleto. He examined my front and back, and told mom i broke my left collar bone. The fall made it protrude forward. Then he touched it using the knuckles of his 2 thumbs and made it go back to its original form. He advised me to refrain from exhaustive physical activity for a time.
I Corinthians 12: 7But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to each one for the profit of all: 8for to one is given the word of wisdom through the Spirit, to another the word of knowledge through the same Spirit, 9to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healings by the same Spirit"
A year or so later, I was atop Derek's tree when I fell again. I was alone. I could not breathe and I crawled forward. After a while, I felt okay. The first thing I did was get a drink. Then I looked for my family, and found them in the house. I remember I was so happy to see them but I never told them that I fell again from a tree because I was afraid I will get spanked. But it was clear that it was the hand of the Lord that touched me that day. I could have died for no one was there. Nobody knew where I was. "Because you have made the Lord , who is my refuge, even the Most High, your dwelling place, No evil shall befall you, Nor shall any plague come near your dwelling; For He shall give His angels charge over you, To keep you in all your ways." -- Psalm 91:9-11
Those trees bring back a lot of memories. I remember playing house on top of them with our childhood friends, Geocilyn, Marilyn, Marilou, and Maggie. Later on, one of them (Maggie) became my sister-in-law. We put hammocks for our dolls. We did not mind climbing up and down every time to get things when we needed them.
One unforgettable event was when Marilyn was once eyeing a very nice looking mango from Derek's tree. She did everything she can to get it but the stick won't hold the fruit so it fell on the pig's waste. She fished it out of there, washed it and soaped it up good then peeled it. She did not mind our teasing her as she ate it with gusto. She said it tasted so good.
One of our household helps (Tata Imo) constructed wooden benches under Kuya Ronald's mango tree. The four of us kids would use them to perform sing and dance acts as we imitated a once famous band called "Toto's children". They also served as living room as we entertained friends and family who came to visit. The tree provided shade and it's always been nice to get fresh air breeze from there.
Raised as catholics, my aunt Reking used to tell us to refrain from climbing trees on Good Friday "for the Lord is dead", she said. If you fall, no one will save you. Stubborn that I was, I did not listen; and once, I almost fell again. I remembered her words and did not do it again on Good Friday from then on. But I never stopped climbing trees; and i fell from one of them one more time, though I was not hurt that time.
This may sound yucky, but there was a time when we were little that our septic tank messed up so we had to go outside when nature calls. I remember my brothers doing it on top of the trees and so did I and my sister. No one can see you atop there, so it was safe.
We were so proud of our trees that we boast about them to our friends. I remember my sister Yvette showing hers off to her high school friends from OLCA when they came to visit.
When I was in 5th and 6th grade, I used to bring my friends from another school (Digna Cabello & Baby de Sagun) to our house to eat indian mangoes. They have been one of our main instruments of hospitality to friends near or far.
It is also an indian mango tree that provided haven to my 1st cousin Lilibeth or Beta as we fondly call her when she got in big trouble with her mama. Nobody noticed she was missing until it was night time. Everybody searched for her everywhere: at all of our friends and relatives' houses. Nobody saw her. I remember Daddy, Nanang Ylang and Tita Reking joined the search, flashlights in their hands. Almost everybody was worried to death and didn't know what to do anymore. Then my brother Derek went to the mango tree and shone the light in its base. He saw Beta's slippers there. He aimed the flashlight up and there was Beta, nesting high there in a branch. And all of us said, thank God for the mango tree!
The only trees remaining to this day that I know of are mine, my mom's and Derek's. Oh how I miss them!
When I was in 5th grade, my school principal Cheving Brotonel taught us this poem in a song and it will remain in my heart forever:
I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree
A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed against the earth's sweet flowing breast`
A tree that looks at God all day and lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear a nest of robins in her hair
Upon whose bosom snow has lain who intimately lives with rain
Poems are made by fools like me; but only God can make a tree
-- Joyce Kilmer--
special thanks to Mom, Gie-ar, Pupay and Onjon for making it possible to post the above pics of our existing indian mango trees in the Philippines.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Bitter Medicine
"Though bitter, good medicine cures illness. Though it may hurt, loyal criticism will have beneficial effects." —Matthew Prior on Medicine
When I was little, my mother loved sewing our clothes in the manual singer sewing machine that my grandmother gave her. Though a "colegiala" and a distinguished high school principal, she was lacking in the imagination department. (peace, Mommy!) She just sew plain shorts and sundress that's easy to make; or maybe because she was so busy too in her profession that she had to sew in whatever time she can spare to do them, thereby choosing the simplest patterns. (Whew!)
I remember the sundress she sewed for me, it was not that pretty, but it was comfortable. That was the dress I was wearing the night I had that bloody encounter with my cousin Rosalie. While we were waiting for the block rosary to start, we were playing a game called GABI'T ARAW or "night and day". The mechanics of the game focused on the position of the slipper or shoes as it lands on the ground after throwing it in the air. The top was the day and the sole was the night. Divided into the night and day groups, you chase your opponent or the opponent chase you, depending on whether the shoes was in the day or night position.
I was in the day group while Rosalie or Osang, as we fondly call her, was in the night group. The shoes landed upside down, so we had to chase those belonging in the night group. But Osang thought it was the other way around so instead of running away, she chose to chase me instead, which brought a head-on collision. I remembered how my head hurt after that and when I tried to touch it, I felt something wet. Then I wiped it with my sundress, and I saw blood. There were lots and lots of it so I yelled, "Tita Nerre, dugo (blood)!"
They had to bring me to my godmother, Ninang Tita, a midwife, so she can take care of the cut. I was so afraid of my mom for she might spank me, that while my Ninang Tita was stitching my eyebrows without anaesthesia, I did not cry one bit.
I remember my mom crying after seeing me. I thought she cried for 2 reasons: 1, that I had to have a scar in my eyebrows, and 2, our budget that time did not include provision for medicines. We did not have insurance in the Philippines. Doctor visits, medicine and hospitalization were payable when due.
I cannot forget the medicine I had to take. It was Sumapen, a bottled pink powder that has to be diluted in water. I can still remember how bad it tasted; so bad, that mommy had to chase me all over just so that I will take it.
The next time I saw Osang, I looked at her head. She had nothing on it, no bruise or bump to show she was hurt by our collision. I remember teasing her how hard her head must be, for mine had to have stitches and she had nothing, real nothing in her head!
Several months later, I was eyeing the fruit of the siniguelas tree in our front yard. They are ready and ripe. But the tree had no branches to climb on. So I got a long bamboo stick to use; still, it won't reach. Then I had an idea. I started throwing the stick upwards aiming at the fruits. At first, I did it right. Then later on I got careless that I forgot to move away, and the bamboo stick landed right in my nose, I was lucky it missed my eyes.
I had to be treated again at the clinic, and they put bandage on the bridge of my nose which they have to secure with plaster forming an X in my face. I cannot forget my cousin and neighbor Gary's reaction when he first saw me with the bandage. He called me "Lastik Man". Mom was mad at me again, for she had to chase me anew so I will be able to take my medicine. Yes, it was the same pink-colored, foul tasting Sumapen. Just my luck.
Until now, I still don't like taking medicines. They always are my last resort.
The art of medicine consists of amusing the patient while nature cures the disease-Voltaire
When I was little, my mother loved sewing our clothes in the manual singer sewing machine that my grandmother gave her. Though a "colegiala" and a distinguished high school principal, she was lacking in the imagination department. (peace, Mommy!) She just sew plain shorts and sundress that's easy to make; or maybe because she was so busy too in her profession that she had to sew in whatever time she can spare to do them, thereby choosing the simplest patterns. (Whew!)
I remember the sundress she sewed for me, it was not that pretty, but it was comfortable. That was the dress I was wearing the night I had that bloody encounter with my cousin Rosalie. While we were waiting for the block rosary to start, we were playing a game called GABI'T ARAW or "night and day". The mechanics of the game focused on the position of the slipper or shoes as it lands on the ground after throwing it in the air. The top was the day and the sole was the night. Divided into the night and day groups, you chase your opponent or the opponent chase you, depending on whether the shoes was in the day or night position.
I was in the day group while Rosalie or Osang, as we fondly call her, was in the night group. The shoes landed upside down, so we had to chase those belonging in the night group. But Osang thought it was the other way around so instead of running away, she chose to chase me instead, which brought a head-on collision. I remembered how my head hurt after that and when I tried to touch it, I felt something wet. Then I wiped it with my sundress, and I saw blood. There were lots and lots of it so I yelled, "Tita Nerre, dugo (blood)!"
They had to bring me to my godmother, Ninang Tita, a midwife, so she can take care of the cut. I was so afraid of my mom for she might spank me, that while my Ninang Tita was stitching my eyebrows without anaesthesia, I did not cry one bit.
I remember my mom crying after seeing me. I thought she cried for 2 reasons: 1, that I had to have a scar in my eyebrows, and 2, our budget that time did not include provision for medicines. We did not have insurance in the Philippines. Doctor visits, medicine and hospitalization were payable when due.
I cannot forget the medicine I had to take. It was Sumapen, a bottled pink powder that has to be diluted in water. I can still remember how bad it tasted; so bad, that mommy had to chase me all over just so that I will take it.
The next time I saw Osang, I looked at her head. She had nothing on it, no bruise or bump to show she was hurt by our collision. I remember teasing her how hard her head must be, for mine had to have stitches and she had nothing, real nothing in her head!
Several months later, I was eyeing the fruit of the siniguelas tree in our front yard. They are ready and ripe. But the tree had no branches to climb on. So I got a long bamboo stick to use; still, it won't reach. Then I had an idea. I started throwing the stick upwards aiming at the fruits. At first, I did it right. Then later on I got careless that I forgot to move away, and the bamboo stick landed right in my nose, I was lucky it missed my eyes.
I had to be treated again at the clinic, and they put bandage on the bridge of my nose which they have to secure with plaster forming an X in my face. I cannot forget my cousin and neighbor Gary's reaction when he first saw me with the bandage. He called me "Lastik Man". Mom was mad at me again, for she had to chase me anew so I will be able to take my medicine. Yes, it was the same pink-colored, foul tasting Sumapen. Just my luck.
Until now, I still don't like taking medicines. They always are my last resort.
The art of medicine consists of amusing the patient while nature cures the disease-Voltaire
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