It was my first day in college and my brother helped me go through all the hustles of enrollment. At that time, I was not ready for college work, I did not work hard to get adequate training in high school, so my brother came very handy. He was three years older and was currently an upper classman in college, his experience helped me through the difficult process of selecting the course to specialize. My first day in college was also the start of my lifelong friendship with my brother and we became best friends ever since.
I have a lot of stories about my brother, but the first thing I remember was his giving me a bath when I was not yet capable doing it myself. As I grew a lot older, I became a nuisance for following him wherever he went. Our three year age gap was very significant when we were young, he was advanced mentally and physically, but I tried my best to catch up with his abilities. The pre-adolescent years in the life of a boy is always full of fun and mischief so when my brother was at that age, having me tagged along was not cool and was a hindrance especially when he went on mischievous adventures with his friends. But sneaky as I was, I always found my way to wherever my brother and his friends went for adventure and he had to worry about me when we have to get away because of our mischief.
My brother wanted me to join my younger friends but I always found fun with older kids than with my age group. There were times when my brother would escape from me, especially when he and his friends would go to Dagupan to watch movies. One Saturday morning, I noticed that my brother was preparing to go to the movies when I heard him asked permission from my mother. He insconspicuously left our house but I followed him from a distance after I told my mother I was going to the movies with my brother. My brother, being aware that I was following him, tried to confuse me by stopping at different places until he thought that he lost me. He eventually ended up at the town center where he caught the jeepney bound for Dagupan. I took the next trip and followed him to the Dagupan Theater Cinema to watch the movie “ Batman and Robin”, the movie that my brother told my mother. As I was groping my way in the dark theater looking for a seat, my brother saw me and he was left with no alternative but to enjoy my company. After the movie, we ended up eating noodles in the nearby Chinese panciteria.
During his high school years, I could no longer tag along and I was out of his life because his lifestyle and demeanor changed when he started liking girls. He had become a good dresser, always neat with nice clothes and he would never go out of the house without grooming himself in front of a big mirror. I remember him using an aftershave lotion and then pinching his cheeks to have a pink blush, applying a little bit of Johnson baby powder to remove the shine on his face, and then finishing his grooming in front of the big mirror to practice his flashing, contoured smile. With his shoes always polished, his pants and shirt always neatly pressed, he would hang around the town plaza with his two best friends to watch for the girls who were the focus of his infatuations. He had a good voice and had a musical talent so he was sometimes given a solo to perform songs during the school musical drama. During his junior year, he was very much infatuated with a girl classmate, but all he could do was write love letters or passed by her house to catch a glimpse of her.
I was in High School when he left for college at age fifteen at the U.P. Diliman, and I was very proud of him for attending that school. During school breaks, he would be active hanging out with the other college students, having parties and dances which I would watch with envy and wishing that I would be old enough to join. After my high school graduation, I intended to study at the local colleges but my father persuaded me to join my brother in the same school. Because we were both in college, the age gap between me and my brother vanished completely and we became the best of friends. At first we became roommates in a boarding house and eventually we stayed in my aunt’s house for the rest of our college years. He graduated with a DVM degree and had a job as a provincial veterinarian for several years before he left for America. I also graduated from college and had worked for three years in a pharmaceutical company before I immigrated to America.
I was lucky to have him ahead of me here in America and I stayed with him until I landed a job. I always visited him during holidays and we were always in communication, without missing any bit of the happenings in our lives. Every year, we spent time together like best friends do, and we never run out of topics to talk about, our parents, our common friends, and our children. He never missed the important events in my son‘s life, like his baptism, his high school and college graduations. All of our times in America, there was never a week that we missed to call each other, to check or just to hear our voices.
Recently, my brother got sick, very sick and I feel that he is still too young to get that sick. These times, we talk everyday, as if we were trying to cover all the things that we have yet touched. I visit him more often, spending more time and enjoying each other in a very simple way, just the mere presence provides us with the elixir of life. I’ll be missing my best friend, I am already missing him in my mind and I hope I would still have my best friend for sometime, for quite sometime. As we grow older, youth is the new song, but old songs carry the memories of the good, old times which are engraved in our mind. I am contented that the memories I have about my brother linger in my brain, and these memories would forever be stored in the safest corner of my mind. I love my best friend and I would not say goodbye, because I know that someday, I hope to see him somewhere in the Milky way.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Mother's Day
My last happy memory about my mother was the reunion that my siblings and I had with our parents when my mother was eighty years old. Despite the fact that she had Alzheimer’s at that time and she could no longer discern what was going on around her, she still could remember the names of her children and where they live. She said and had always said that she loves her children and her children love her too. Mother’s love must indeed be true, a love that would never fade.
I did remember my mother as that of a very busy woman. When I was 4 years old, I remember her as a storeowner of groceries and other everyday supplies. She lost her store, partly due to her unselfish nature of trusting anybody who asked for credit. She decided to be a full time mother, making the care of her children as her top priority. She was a very religious woman, so the church was her second home. Early in the morning of each day, after preparing the breakfast for the family, she would go to the church to attend the mass, pray her novenas to the different saints and then would socialize with her church friends, who like her were members of several church organizations. She would come home after picking up from the market the food that the family needed for the day. Her routine was very predictable that the children knew where she was at any certain hour of the day.
On some Saturday afternoons, she would attend the novena prayers at different houses assigned for the week and I would tag along with her. We would be praying all the prayers for the saints or whoever the novenas were intended for. I was not sure why I loved to go with her, but one thing I remember that motivated me to go were the sumptuous merienda of native cakes and food that came along after the long prayers. It was not surprising that many a time during my early childhood, I would win a lot of contests when it came to reciting the different prayers because of my exposure. During the month of May, she would teach Catechism classes which I would partake.
I was a ten years old when I overheard a teacher, who was our neighbor, telling my classroom teacher that I was spoiled by my mother, which I did not understand. I knew that my mother, like a lot of mothers, spoiled her children by way of giving them everything she had. She never laid a hand on me, never scolded or got disappointed, and she always wanted her little children to be within her sight. Through all the years, she was always proud of her children and we got special treatment whenever we came home from college and during breaks in our professional years. I always enjoyed going home whenever time permitted and I always anticipated her buying native fruits and ethnic food for my eating entertainment. My relationship with my mother was very simple, she treated me as if I were a grade school kid, and she always acted as a mother would, even if her son was already a father.
I left the Philippines when my mother was in her fifties and I did not see her undergo the process of growing old. How I wish I were around to enjoy her during those times, because when I was able to have time to visit with her, I realized that she was already an old lady. She visited me twice here in America where I gave the best treatment that I could afford, but I felt that it was not enough to make up for the missing years. I think I paid a heavy price in order to pursue my dream in life.
During Mother’s Day, my thoughts go back to my childhood, and the love that was showered to me by my mother. Now, I would smile whenever I remember the whining and manipulations that I did in order to sway my mother to agree with me. When I was in fifth grade, I was made aware of what a mother’s love when our music teacher taught us the following song titled, Mother’s Love . “ Mother, you are dear, And I truly love you, for your constant care, and your kindliness, too. Whether near or far, I am thinking of you, for I know that your son must be brave and true…When this life seems hard, and my troubles are great, when my heart is sad as for help I wait, When my friends all have fled caring not for my grief, and hope is gone , then I think of you.” This song struck the soft corner of my heart and forever changed the way I looked at my mother, realizing that mothers are truly special human beings.
I did remember my mother as that of a very busy woman. When I was 4 years old, I remember her as a storeowner of groceries and other everyday supplies. She lost her store, partly due to her unselfish nature of trusting anybody who asked for credit. She decided to be a full time mother, making the care of her children as her top priority. She was a very religious woman, so the church was her second home. Early in the morning of each day, after preparing the breakfast for the family, she would go to the church to attend the mass, pray her novenas to the different saints and then would socialize with her church friends, who like her were members of several church organizations. She would come home after picking up from the market the food that the family needed for the day. Her routine was very predictable that the children knew where she was at any certain hour of the day.
On some Saturday afternoons, she would attend the novena prayers at different houses assigned for the week and I would tag along with her. We would be praying all the prayers for the saints or whoever the novenas were intended for. I was not sure why I loved to go with her, but one thing I remember that motivated me to go were the sumptuous merienda of native cakes and food that came along after the long prayers. It was not surprising that many a time during my early childhood, I would win a lot of contests when it came to reciting the different prayers because of my exposure. During the month of May, she would teach Catechism classes which I would partake.
I was a ten years old when I overheard a teacher, who was our neighbor, telling my classroom teacher that I was spoiled by my mother, which I did not understand. I knew that my mother, like a lot of mothers, spoiled her children by way of giving them everything she had. She never laid a hand on me, never scolded or got disappointed, and she always wanted her little children to be within her sight. Through all the years, she was always proud of her children and we got special treatment whenever we came home from college and during breaks in our professional years. I always enjoyed going home whenever time permitted and I always anticipated her buying native fruits and ethnic food for my eating entertainment. My relationship with my mother was very simple, she treated me as if I were a grade school kid, and she always acted as a mother would, even if her son was already a father.
I left the Philippines when my mother was in her fifties and I did not see her undergo the process of growing old. How I wish I were around to enjoy her during those times, because when I was able to have time to visit with her, I realized that she was already an old lady. She visited me twice here in America where I gave the best treatment that I could afford, but I felt that it was not enough to make up for the missing years. I think I paid a heavy price in order to pursue my dream in life.
During Mother’s Day, my thoughts go back to my childhood, and the love that was showered to me by my mother. Now, I would smile whenever I remember the whining and manipulations that I did in order to sway my mother to agree with me. When I was in fifth grade, I was made aware of what a mother’s love when our music teacher taught us the following song titled, Mother’s Love . “ Mother, you are dear, And I truly love you, for your constant care, and your kindliness, too. Whether near or far, I am thinking of you, for I know that your son must be brave and true…When this life seems hard, and my troubles are great, when my heart is sad as for help I wait, When my friends all have fled caring not for my grief, and hope is gone , then I think of you.” This song struck the soft corner of my heart and forever changed the way I looked at my mother, realizing that mothers are truly special human beings.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
To My Valentine
February 14th was Valentine’s Day and this day was a big day for me when I was in my twenties. When I wrote these verses, I transported myself to the time when I was twenty one. At that age, I was brave even to promise the moon to the girl I love.
I don’t know how to tell you about how I truly feel,
But I know that love could drag me to the highest hill,
So I am proclaiming to the world and for everybody to hear,
That I love you and I am a slave of your love that’s very dear.
After we met, you ignited the elixir of my life to give light,
To flicker my night’s dream that’s peppered by your sight,
I have always hated to wake up, I’d like to go on dreaming,
Because empty arms I’ll have upon waking up in the morning.
Whenever you're with me, my heart races out of bound,
Because the effect of your touch is very deep and profound,
You’ve always given me pain and heartburn whenever you’re away,
Because I always think about you from morning up to the end of the day,
You asked me once how much I love and how much I adore you,
You asked me how would you know that what I am saying is true,
You should know that I love you with all my heart to the earth's ending,
And if my soul had a heart, I’ll love you, always will, beyond remembering!
I don’t know how to tell you about how I truly feel,
But I know that love could drag me to the highest hill,
So I am proclaiming to the world and for everybody to hear,
That I love you and I am a slave of your love that’s very dear.
After we met, you ignited the elixir of my life to give light,
To flicker my night’s dream that’s peppered by your sight,
I have always hated to wake up, I’d like to go on dreaming,
Because empty arms I’ll have upon waking up in the morning.
Whenever you're with me, my heart races out of bound,
Because the effect of your touch is very deep and profound,
You’ve always given me pain and heartburn whenever you’re away,
Because I always think about you from morning up to the end of the day,
You asked me once how much I love and how much I adore you,
You asked me how would you know that what I am saying is true,
You should know that I love you with all my heart to the earth's ending,
And if my soul had a heart, I’ll love you, always will, beyond remembering!
Friday, September 12, 2008
The Ballad of Autumn
Where are the songs of our youth and springtime?
The earth sheltered them where no one could find,
Like leaves of Autumn that shiver when west wind calls,
They fade away and fly to wherever place they fall,
When summer blooms life is at its highest peak,
Going down could be easy or in very deep steep,
The butterflies and all trinkets of our summer fun,
They fade away as soon as our sun goes down.
October is our season’s spring and summer farewell,
Our days are getting short and we’re losing the thrill,
Our beautiful flowers that hang around in September,
They fade away with the freeze of early October.
Comes November of our day to day lifelong journey,
Our landscape becomes cold and our sky is gloomy,
Our memories are filled up with all the happy summers,
They fade away when winter whispers that home is near!
The earth sheltered them where no one could find,
Like leaves of Autumn that shiver when west wind calls,
They fade away and fly to wherever place they fall,
When summer blooms life is at its highest peak,
Going down could be easy or in very deep steep,
The butterflies and all trinkets of our summer fun,
They fade away as soon as our sun goes down.
October is our season’s spring and summer farewell,
Our days are getting short and we’re losing the thrill,
Our beautiful flowers that hang around in September,
They fade away with the freeze of early October.
Comes November of our day to day lifelong journey,
Our landscape becomes cold and our sky is gloomy,
Our memories are filled up with all the happy summers,
They fade away when winter whispers that home is near!
Monday, July 14, 2008
It's Unforgettable
AG
In the course of our lifetime, some things may have had happened that would have taught us lessons or changed the direction of our life. My story occurred during my college days and I consider it unforgettable. I was on my way to Manila after the first semester break one October day when I happened to set beside a girl from Dagupan who was studying at the Philippine Women University. The train ride would take about four hours so it was a way to meet people and forge friendships. While telling stories with this girl, I found that we had something in common, which was our knowledge of the life and times of Dr. Jose Rizal. Our conversation became enjoyable as we discussed in depth Rizal’s love for Leonor Rivera, who was Maria Clara in his book “ Noli Me Tangere”. I was impressed by her brain and beauty and the four hours that we had talked were not enough. I thought I enjoyed her company so at the end of the trip, I proposed that we should see each other again and she agreed to meet me in front of the church of St Jude that following Thursday. It was enrollment week and classes would not start until the following week so it was a good timing for both of us.
I looked forward for that coming Thursday and at exactly 5:00 PM, I positioned myself conspicuously in front of the church. Fifteen minutes had passed and she was nowhere around so I waited for another hour to give her a chance to beat the traffic, but still she didn’t come. I felt like a fool so I decided to go home with a wounded pride, the irony was that I waited in vain in the church of St Jude, the patron saint of hopeless cases. I took the JD bus bound for home and while thinking about my misadventure, the movie “An Affair to Remember” came to my mind. I imagined myself as Cary Grant who was “stood up” at the top of the Empire State building. I recalled that the two lovers promised that if one of them could not make the date, it would be for a very good reason. I wondered then if my date had a good reason but I decided that it was not worth a thought so I crossed out her name forever.
The second semester classes started and I was back to my study routine. Like many of the students in my school, I lived in the university campus, which was in a big tract of land in Quezon City. The dormitories and boarding houses were spread all over the campus and there was an arcade with cafeterias and supply stores. Studying was my preoccupation during the week and Saturday was the day to unwind and unleash the pressure of my studies. The school Women’s Club was involved in promoting an atmosphere for girls to meet boys so once a month it sponsored a Saturday night dance. For Freshman and Sophomore girls who were enrolled in Euthenics Classes, part of the course was to be at these monthly socials so they could practice their learned social graces. I remember that Saturday in December when my roommates and I attended the last social dance before students left for Christmas break. On one corner of the dancing hall, a girl in red and white with a long, free flowing hair captivated my roving eyes. It took me awhile before I gained enough courage to talk to her. I approached her and in my gentle manner I introduced myself and invited her to dance. It was a stroke of luck because I met a girl who spoke my dialect. Before the social event ended, I told her that I would visit her during the Christmas break but she didn’t respond, she probably thought that it was next to impossible.
The day after Christmas I went on my journey to visit her which was a long way from my house. The travel took about an hour along bumpy and dusty roads. When I arrived in her town, I used my wits to find out where she lived by asking the town barber and sure enough, he directed me to the shortest route. I surprised her and her family with my determination and with my resourcefulness. After the visit, I realized that she was the girl that I would like to marry some day. Many years had passed and as we learned more about each other, I was convinced that we were meant for each other so we eventually got married two years after we arrived in America. I finally found my true love in her and she found her first and only love in me.
In the course of our lifetime, some things may have had happened that would have taught us lessons or changed the direction of our life. My story occurred during my college days and I consider it unforgettable. I was on my way to Manila after the first semester break one October day when I happened to set beside a girl from Dagupan who was studying at the Philippine Women University. The train ride would take about four hours so it was a way to meet people and forge friendships. While telling stories with this girl, I found that we had something in common, which was our knowledge of the life and times of Dr. Jose Rizal. Our conversation became enjoyable as we discussed in depth Rizal’s love for Leonor Rivera, who was Maria Clara in his book “ Noli Me Tangere”. I was impressed by her brain and beauty and the four hours that we had talked were not enough. I thought I enjoyed her company so at the end of the trip, I proposed that we should see each other again and she agreed to meet me in front of the church of St Jude that following Thursday. It was enrollment week and classes would not start until the following week so it was a good timing for both of us.
I looked forward for that coming Thursday and at exactly 5:00 PM, I positioned myself conspicuously in front of the church. Fifteen minutes had passed and she was nowhere around so I waited for another hour to give her a chance to beat the traffic, but still she didn’t come. I felt like a fool so I decided to go home with a wounded pride, the irony was that I waited in vain in the church of St Jude, the patron saint of hopeless cases. I took the JD bus bound for home and while thinking about my misadventure, the movie “An Affair to Remember” came to my mind. I imagined myself as Cary Grant who was “stood up” at the top of the Empire State building. I recalled that the two lovers promised that if one of them could not make the date, it would be for a very good reason. I wondered then if my date had a good reason but I decided that it was not worth a thought so I crossed out her name forever.
The second semester classes started and I was back to my study routine. Like many of the students in my school, I lived in the university campus, which was in a big tract of land in Quezon City. The dormitories and boarding houses were spread all over the campus and there was an arcade with cafeterias and supply stores. Studying was my preoccupation during the week and Saturday was the day to unwind and unleash the pressure of my studies. The school Women’s Club was involved in promoting an atmosphere for girls to meet boys so once a month it sponsored a Saturday night dance. For Freshman and Sophomore girls who were enrolled in Euthenics Classes, part of the course was to be at these monthly socials so they could practice their learned social graces. I remember that Saturday in December when my roommates and I attended the last social dance before students left for Christmas break. On one corner of the dancing hall, a girl in red and white with a long, free flowing hair captivated my roving eyes. It took me awhile before I gained enough courage to talk to her. I approached her and in my gentle manner I introduced myself and invited her to dance. It was a stroke of luck because I met a girl who spoke my dialect. Before the social event ended, I told her that I would visit her during the Christmas break but she didn’t respond, she probably thought that it was next to impossible.
The day after Christmas I went on my journey to visit her which was a long way from my house. The travel took about an hour along bumpy and dusty roads. When I arrived in her town, I used my wits to find out where she lived by asking the town barber and sure enough, he directed me to the shortest route. I surprised her and her family with my determination and with my resourcefulness. After the visit, I realized that she was the girl that I would like to marry some day. Many years had passed and as we learned more about each other, I was convinced that we were meant for each other so we eventually got married two years after we arrived in America. I finally found my true love in her and she found her first and only love in me.
Friday, June 27, 2008
First Love
I was then a 15-year-old, unassuming, and an easy going teenager. My social life was with my high school classmates and with my neighborhood friends. Girls were not in my mind and nothing excited me more than watching movies in the cinemas of Dagupan. My high school was a non-academic, curriculum in agriculture, and no homework was assigned so I had a lot of free time.
Going to church on Sundays was a mandatory obligation, rain or shine, which my mother imposed on her children. It was on one of those Sundays in church when I first noticed a young girl in blue dress with a blue ribbon on her hair walking towards the front of the church with her mother. For the first time in my life, I saw the most beautiful girl in this universe. Although I’ve known her since she was seven and I was eight, suddenly she looked like somebody new.
Ever since that Sunday, I started grooming myself so she’d notice me. I thought of her during the day and she enlivened my dreams at night. To satisfy my longing I passed by her house every evening just in case I’d have a chance to talk to her. Occasionally, I would catch a glimpse of her inside her house, but nothing really could calm my restless heart until she’d know that I existed.
After a month of desperately wanting to be noticed, I gained enough confidence to pay her a visit. One Saturday evening, I put on my best outfit and proceeded to her house with my heart beating fast and hands sweaty, but my attempt fizzled out when I saw their family car in the carport. Her parents were prominent citizens of our town, they were well schooled and her dad had a high government position.
My family had a very modest means and as a young boy I looked up at her parents as above my social level. Two weeks later, I noticed the carport empty so I hurried back home to groom myself, plucked some roses from my mother’s potted plants and away I went to her house that evening. I knocked at her house door and with the porch light shinning on my face, the door opened and what a surprise, her mother greeted me and was amused at the sight of a dashing Romeo holding some roses.
I stood frozen, my whole body temperature shot up and my fair skin could not mask the blushing of my face. I could feel beads of perspiration rolling down my forehead but her mother was very nice and quick to calm down my anxiety by inviting me to come inside and without hesitation announced my very presence to her daughter. She conveniently left the living room and her daughter sheepishly came out and noticed my flushed complexion. I handed her the roses and all I could say was “how are you?”.
Fifteen minutes was all I could bear, the heat all over my body and my unease made me suffocate so I decided to bid her goodnight. I went home extremely happy for feeling like a winner, having hurdled the first inning. The second and succeeding visits got me accustomed to her very nice mother who was understanding and very entertaining. For my part, I meticulously planned the topics on what to talk about so I could impress her and also make an impression to her mother who was highly educated.
Valentine’s Day, February 14 came and during the dance at her school she gave me her valentine heart pin, a pin I kept like a million dollar souvenir. I eventually graduated from high school and was accepted to a University in Quezon City. I impressed her mother and she told me that she was an alumna of the same school. She advised me to work hard and wished me good luck. Before I left for college I told my friend that I liked her and I’ll miss her dearly, and she said with a smile that she’ll also miss me. I took her hand and kissed it and then said with a whisper that I’ll always think of her.
College was tough for me. It was a payback for not being trained in high school. I managed to write her twice but the pressure I encountered with the likes of college algebra, chemistry, physics, college English were so overwhelming that I had to work double time in order to catch up with my classmates and avoid being kicked out of the school. I stopped corresponding with her thinking that I would see her when I go home during the semester and Christmas breaks, but I was very disappointed to find out that her family moved to central Philippines because her dad was moved to a new office.
In the meantime, I met other girls and after graduating from college, I ended up working for a pharmaceutical company in Pasig. I occasionally visited my hometown but she was nowhere around during my visits and our path didn’t cross again until I was about to leave the country to immigrate. It was during the town fiesta dance at the auditorium when I saw her, lovely and beautiful as ever. She was surprised as I was to see her and I invited her to dance. I told her how pretty she was and she smiled and whispered “bolero”.
I didn’t pickup what she meant, whether it was about what I said or what I did, but after the music, as I was walking her to her seat, I asked how life was treating her for which she replied that she was getting married the following month. I was dumbfounded but I managed to congratulate her. She introduced me to her fiancé and that was the last time I saw her because I left the Philippines soon after. Twenty years later during my visit to my hometown to celebrate the golden wedding anniversary of my parents, I met her mother again and we became good friends, corresponding regularly until she passed away. I found out that her daughter SL, moved to America where she raised her family.
Going to church on Sundays was a mandatory obligation, rain or shine, which my mother imposed on her children. It was on one of those Sundays in church when I first noticed a young girl in blue dress with a blue ribbon on her hair walking towards the front of the church with her mother. For the first time in my life, I saw the most beautiful girl in this universe. Although I’ve known her since she was seven and I was eight, suddenly she looked like somebody new.
Ever since that Sunday, I started grooming myself so she’d notice me. I thought of her during the day and she enlivened my dreams at night. To satisfy my longing I passed by her house every evening just in case I’d have a chance to talk to her. Occasionally, I would catch a glimpse of her inside her house, but nothing really could calm my restless heart until she’d know that I existed.
After a month of desperately wanting to be noticed, I gained enough confidence to pay her a visit. One Saturday evening, I put on my best outfit and proceeded to her house with my heart beating fast and hands sweaty, but my attempt fizzled out when I saw their family car in the carport. Her parents were prominent citizens of our town, they were well schooled and her dad had a high government position.
My family had a very modest means and as a young boy I looked up at her parents as above my social level. Two weeks later, I noticed the carport empty so I hurried back home to groom myself, plucked some roses from my mother’s potted plants and away I went to her house that evening. I knocked at her house door and with the porch light shinning on my face, the door opened and what a surprise, her mother greeted me and was amused at the sight of a dashing Romeo holding some roses.
I stood frozen, my whole body temperature shot up and my fair skin could not mask the blushing of my face. I could feel beads of perspiration rolling down my forehead but her mother was very nice and quick to calm down my anxiety by inviting me to come inside and without hesitation announced my very presence to her daughter. She conveniently left the living room and her daughter sheepishly came out and noticed my flushed complexion. I handed her the roses and all I could say was “how are you?”.
Fifteen minutes was all I could bear, the heat all over my body and my unease made me suffocate so I decided to bid her goodnight. I went home extremely happy for feeling like a winner, having hurdled the first inning. The second and succeeding visits got me accustomed to her very nice mother who was understanding and very entertaining. For my part, I meticulously planned the topics on what to talk about so I could impress her and also make an impression to her mother who was highly educated.
Valentine’s Day, February 14 came and during the dance at her school she gave me her valentine heart pin, a pin I kept like a million dollar souvenir. I eventually graduated from high school and was accepted to a University in Quezon City. I impressed her mother and she told me that she was an alumna of the same school. She advised me to work hard and wished me good luck. Before I left for college I told my friend that I liked her and I’ll miss her dearly, and she said with a smile that she’ll also miss me. I took her hand and kissed it and then said with a whisper that I’ll always think of her.
College was tough for me. It was a payback for not being trained in high school. I managed to write her twice but the pressure I encountered with the likes of college algebra, chemistry, physics, college English were so overwhelming that I had to work double time in order to catch up with my classmates and avoid being kicked out of the school. I stopped corresponding with her thinking that I would see her when I go home during the semester and Christmas breaks, but I was very disappointed to find out that her family moved to central Philippines because her dad was moved to a new office.
In the meantime, I met other girls and after graduating from college, I ended up working for a pharmaceutical company in Pasig. I occasionally visited my hometown but she was nowhere around during my visits and our path didn’t cross again until I was about to leave the country to immigrate. It was during the town fiesta dance at the auditorium when I saw her, lovely and beautiful as ever. She was surprised as I was to see her and I invited her to dance. I told her how pretty she was and she smiled and whispered “bolero”.
I didn’t pickup what she meant, whether it was about what I said or what I did, but after the music, as I was walking her to her seat, I asked how life was treating her for which she replied that she was getting married the following month. I was dumbfounded but I managed to congratulate her. She introduced me to her fiancé and that was the last time I saw her because I left the Philippines soon after. Twenty years later during my visit to my hometown to celebrate the golden wedding anniversary of my parents, I met her mother again and we became good friends, corresponding regularly until she passed away. I found out that her daughter SL, moved to America where she raised her family.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Father's Day
Sunday is father's day and I find it fitting to write about endearing moments with my father. Summer vacation was an anticipated period of my childhood where my days were spent with neighborhood playmates or in the barrio where my relatives lived.
There were times when my dad would have business to accomplish at the provincial capitol in Lingayen and I sometimes tagged along.
Our day would start early, I would put on my good attire of short pants and Marcelo brand rubber shoes. My dad and I would go to the town center to catch the red Pantranco bus bound for Lingayen. The 17 kilometer trip seemed forever with the bus picking up passengers along the way. By the time we reached the Manat bridge, my whole body, my face and hair would be brownish-blond because of the cloud of dust that kept trailing from behind.
The bus usually stopped in front of the Catholic Seminary School in Binmaley, the school that my mother wanted for one of her boys to attend because she wanted a priest in her family, but none of my brothers had the calling.
Upon reaching Lingayen, the bus would turn right to a beautiful boulevard, the center of which was planted with blooming Kalachuchi trees making the road grandiose. The end of the road was the Capitol building, so far the tallest and biggest building structure that my innocent and tender age had seen. My dad would go to the registration area and I'd run up the stairs to the building's skyroom where I would look at the sea and all the way to the horizon.
I often wondered what lies beyond the horizon and that question peppered my little mind to which my dad would always answer that the world is round and you'd come back to where you are if you go around. My dad would take me to the beach as soon as he was done with his business and would let me play and wade on the water. I never went beyond his reach for fear the roaring waves would grab my legs. I picked up shells for souvenirs and watched the monotonous waves keep on beating the shore.
Before going back to San Carlos, we'd drop by the city market to buy my favorite coconut pastille ( bocayo), the best in Pangasinan. We'd take the same Pantranco bus and be sudjected to the same rigor of dust and bumpy road and by the time we arrived home, we'd be coated with a thin layer of mud caused by the sweat and dust.
There were times when my dad would have business to accomplish at the provincial capitol in Lingayen and I sometimes tagged along.
Our day would start early, I would put on my good attire of short pants and Marcelo brand rubber shoes. My dad and I would go to the town center to catch the red Pantranco bus bound for Lingayen. The 17 kilometer trip seemed forever with the bus picking up passengers along the way. By the time we reached the Manat bridge, my whole body, my face and hair would be brownish-blond because of the cloud of dust that kept trailing from behind.
The bus usually stopped in front of the Catholic Seminary School in Binmaley, the school that my mother wanted for one of her boys to attend because she wanted a priest in her family, but none of my brothers had the calling.
Upon reaching Lingayen, the bus would turn right to a beautiful boulevard, the center of which was planted with blooming Kalachuchi trees making the road grandiose. The end of the road was the Capitol building, so far the tallest and biggest building structure that my innocent and tender age had seen. My dad would go to the registration area and I'd run up the stairs to the building's skyroom where I would look at the sea and all the way to the horizon.
I often wondered what lies beyond the horizon and that question peppered my little mind to which my dad would always answer that the world is round and you'd come back to where you are if you go around. My dad would take me to the beach as soon as he was done with his business and would let me play and wade on the water. I never went beyond his reach for fear the roaring waves would grab my legs. I picked up shells for souvenirs and watched the monotonous waves keep on beating the shore.
Before going back to San Carlos, we'd drop by the city market to buy my favorite coconut pastille ( bocayo), the best in Pangasinan. We'd take the same Pantranco bus and be sudjected to the same rigor of dust and bumpy road and by the time we arrived home, we'd be coated with a thin layer of mud caused by the sweat and dust.
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