Month: May 2016

After writing my mother’s love story, some of my readers asked when I would write my own. Well, that’s easy! Let’s move from the 1940s to the 1980s by turning forward the pages of myJOURNEY.

I always believed that I have three callings in life: to be a husband, a father, and a preacher. I became a husband to a wonderful woman, Edita Olivares in January 1984. She is a beauty with a brain, and a good heart. These were my criteria in choosing a lifetime soulmate and she proved to be more than who I was looking for. But before she knew about my feelings for her, I had a huge dilemma. I had to go through some hoops to get to her heart. And so this was how the love story began.

Edita and I attended the same church. I had a special feeling for her but didn’t know how to even begin letting her know, because at the time she was my Sunday school teacher. How in the world can a student ask his Sunday school teacher to go on a date with him? She was  only a year older than me, but far more mature than many of us in the church’s Youth Society.

For a while, I just watched her from a distance–admiring her beauty, grace, charm and exceptional intelligence. Until one day our Pastor, Rev. Fernandez, came to CLSU to visit me. He prayed and gave me words of encouragement, which I really needed at the time. Before he left, he said something that surprised and blew me away!

“If you are looking for a girlfriend, I have a recommendation–Edita. You and her will make a good match.” My mouth opened in disbelief. I wanted to make sure I heard him right so I asked, “Who, Edita? My Sunday school teacher?” Amused, he replied, “Yes, Edita Olivares!” I still couldn’t believe what I heard. “Pastor, are you serious or are you just kidding ?” I asked. “I’m serious, believe me”, he emphatically answered. I looked at him and said, “Actually, Pastor….I….I….I’ve had a crush on her….for a long while already, but I just didn’t know how to approach her.” I sheepishly looked back up at Reverend Fernandez. “I know….. I have caught you many times staring at her”, the pastor said with a big grin on his face. I blushed in embarrassment.

But even with my pastor’s prodding , I still did not have the courage to approach her. So I devised a plan. I told our mutual friends and the pastors’ kids that I had a feelings for her, hoping that she would hear about it. Indeed, she heard about it, but I still harbored a fear of rejection that kept me from doing anything. Until one day, I found myself in a big quandry.

During a Sunday service we had some visitors from Manila. They were from Campus Crusade for Christ organizing local chapters in Cabanatuan college campuses, and Edita invited them to church. They were good looking young men–well dressed and smart. I got very jealous when I saw her sitting with them on the same pew in my church. My mind wandered from church service that day. Is anyone of them Edita’s boyfriend? I hoped my suspicion would prove false.

I blamed myself for not doing anything about my feelings for her. I felt like my turf had been invaded. I could not stand looking at them any longer, so I left the pew and went inside a Sunday school room beating myself for being a slug. No more shyness, no more hiding the feelings, no more delaying. So I wrote a letter pouring my heart and feelings. After church I made sure I handed her what would be my first love letter…my heart beating fast and my hands shaking. As I was handing her the letter, our eyes met. They were the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen…kind, gentle, graceful. That moment was the closest that I had ever seen her. She was even more beautiful close up. “What is this?”, she asked, smiling when I handed her the letter. Her bright eyes, glossy lips and beautiful white teeth made her face glow. “Oh, it’s just a note”, I said, trying my best to hide my nerves. She then proceeded gracefully, leaving the sweet scent of her perfume lingering in her place.

I felt relieved that I finally expressed my feelings, yet quite worried that it had been too late. I wondered how she would react after reading my letter. Would she be mad? Surprised? Would she just laugh at me? Edita knew that I had dated a few girls before. As a matter of fact, I took one of the girls I was seeing at the time to Edita’s Sunday school class during an attendance drive. She rewarded me with a star on the attendance chart for bringing my girlfriend to her Sunday school class. What kind of track record was that for a suitor like me?

And I was not without rivals. Many mothers at church who had sons our age were eyeing Edita to be their son’s wife. I heard them many times admiring her fine qualities. She was indeed a very ideal woman and I wanted her to be my girlfriend. Do I even have a chance?, I wondered. Since then, I was determined to be more courageous and pursue the girl of my dreams. I started to groom myself and put my best foot forward to get Edita’s attention. I decided I had to shed many of my boyish ways and become a grown man as she was a grown woman. This gave me more self confidence and my unfounded fear dissipated.

One Sunday after church, I bravely approached Edita and asked if I could visit her at their home that night. She agreed. By now, many of the church people knew that I was pursuing Edita. The purpose of my visit was not just to talk to her but also to indicate to her parents that I had good intentions. I had to muster all courage to do this because I had never done this before. Gil, you have to act like a real gentleman, I told myself.

She was dressed casually when I visited that night, but she was still stunningly beautiful to me. I extended my hand to shake hers and she willingly obliged. I shook her hand ever so gently and felt her soft silky hand in mine. I had never held such a soft hand before. “Hi Gil, come in. Please sit down, I’ll just get you something to drink.” While she was in the kitchen, I marveled about the soft hand I just touched. Does she do any housework at all? No one can have a soft hand like that if they do laundry, wash dishes, scrub pots and pans, clean the house and all the other chores.

“Heto, magmerienda ka muna.”(Here have some snacks.) She came with a glass of iced Mountain Dew (How did she know that was my favorite pop drink?) and a plate of pancit. After some bites of the pancit, I tasted that it was already going bad and she didn’t know. I ate and finished it anyway downing it with my favorite drink. I didn’t tell her about the pancit because I don’t want to offend her. At first, we talked about plans for the youth group because that was the most comfortable topic to converse about. Then we slowly shifted to other personal things and before we knew it,we were laughing and having fun. It felt so good that I was there talking and so close to the girl of my dreams. Then, I felt the freedom to interject about the Campus Crusade boys. “Oh, I don’t really know anyone of them. They just want my support in organizing local chapter of the CCC.” Upon hearing that, a heavy burden instantly lifted from my chest. No more worries Gil. She’s not committed to anyone yet. I wanted to celebrate! So I asked, “Can I have another glass of Mountain Dew please?” As she disappeared into the kitchen, I raised my fist and excitedly whispered to myself,  “Yes!”

I didn’t want that night to end but it was getting late. Like a gentleman, I said good night and goodbye before midnight. I decided to just walk instead of getting a tricycle ride. Walking home, I felt like I was on cloud nine. I was hopeful–almost victorious! I liked the way she welcomed me and spent time with me.

The next day, I went back to CLSU with renewed enthusiasm for my school work. Somehow, she inspired me in a very special way. You better do good in your studies, I challenged myself. Edita was an excellent student. She was one of the few recipients of a coveted full government scholarship. She related to me how she got a very high and winning score in the state scholarship test. In one section of the test, they were to fill in the blank of poems written by famous authors like Edgar Allan Poe. She was able to supply the missing words because she remembered them. Working as a student assistant at Araullo library, she happened to thumb through poetry and mentally scanned some of them. She was gifted with photographic memory. She really was a smart cookie and that was one of the many qualities that made her very attractive to me. She was even about to finish her civil engineering degree at Central Luzon Polytechnic College, a feat few women had accomplished at the time.

After attending my morning classes, I went back to my dorm to have lunch. That’s when I heard a knock at my door. When I opened the door I was very surprised to see Edita and her friend Dolores. After letting them in, Edita who seemed very distraught asked me, “Gil, how are you doing? Are you okay? I mean aren’t you sick?” Her questions confused me. “Sick? No, I’m not. I’m perfectly okay! Why?” Edita explained, “Well, remember the pancit I gave you last night? My mother said it was already spoiled when I served it to you. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even check. So we came here to check on you.” I assured them that I was okay. I felt how relieved she was knowing that I wasn’t ill. I then offered to give them a tour of CLSU the rest of the day. I took them to a leisurely walk to Little Baguio and told them the story of how I prepared my speech there for the national oratorical contest in Cebu.

I opened the gum and collected the foil packaging on which I wrote love notes. I showed them to Edita. One note read: “I love Edita”and the other one said “..and I will marry her someday.” She was visibly tickled by what I wrote and gave me a pinch on the side of my abdomen as sweet Filipina girls do. I thought I knew what that meant and I was very happy. Then I took a more serious tone. I gazed her in the eyes and said: “I really mean it and I hope one day you will feel the same toward me.” I folded the love notes and I inserted them between the thatched roof of the gazebo while saying, “These are silent records of my love for you. One day this dream will come true.” I intentionally did not demand a verbal response. I knew that she liked me too, and that was enough for me at that moment. In my heart I knew that it was premature to make any commitment. I wanted the courtship to develop further. I wanted this to be set apart from the other experiences I had. I wished for her to fall in love with me by knowing me more.

Walking back to the dorm, we passed by a thick vine of a plant named cadena de amor–cord of love. I picked a bouquet of the luscious pink blossoms and gave them to Edita. She took the flowers and held them like holding a wedding bouquet. I saw my beautiful future bride whom I would tie a real cord of love with one day!

So far in my seven blog posts, I have shared five years of my life from 1975-1981–my College years. Allow me to turn the pages backward and join me in visiting the colorful and eventful beginnings of my family.

I wish to remind my readers that the original purpose of writing myJOURNEY was for my grand children to know me. I don’t want my story to die with me!  That purpose is still the BIG WHY for writing this project. As of this writing, May 2016, I have five grandchildren: Camden age 6, Liam age 5, Lyla age 3, Evelyn age 2, and Ryland 6 months.  And I expect to have more in the future…God willing.  These little ones are my inspiration. It will be a long while before they are able to read Lolo’s life story. I am imagining them to be in their 20’s when they can appreciate this work.  That will be about 15 years from now.

So, where did Lolo come from?  Who were Lolo’s parents?  How was his life as a young boy?  If there were no computers back then, what kind of toys did he play with?  What kind of food did he eat? If there were no cars, how did he travel?

The follo

wing story will trace my beginnings.  In this episode, my mother narrates her unique
love story.  I reconstructed the story and the dialogues from my memories of hearing them for the purpose of story-telling.  First, let me begin with a brief background of my origin.

My family came from Pangatian, a barrio of Cabanatuan City. Both of my parents were migrants from Pangasinan, so we learned how to speak Ilocano in the midst of a Tagalog-speaking community.  Like many of the barrio residents, we were tenant rice farmers. That means we did not own the land we tilled. Tatang–what we seven children called our father–was a katiwala (overseer) of a huge hacienda owned by the Lopez landlords. Tatang being the eldest of five Valenzuela sons, inherited that job from his father Simeon. As a community leader, he was respected and trusted by many.  Inang–that’s how we called our mother–was a very religious woman.  She was the prayer leader in the barrio. In short, both of my parents were highly involved with community life.

As a young boy I was especially interested in hearing my parents’ stories. “How did you and Tatang meet?”, I asked Inang one night after we had our family prayer –we called it family devotion. At this time I was about ten years old, just a few years after my father passed away.  After she told the following story that night, my siblings and I were hooked and we begged her to tell more stories at night before bed.

“Oh! it’s a long story”, Inang answered. But she was very eager to share her story.

The following is Inang’s recollection of her unique love story:

In the early 1940s, when I was about 19 years old, before the Japanese invasion of the Philippines,  my cousin and I traveled from Asingan, Pangasinan to visit our relatives in Kalawagan–another barrio of Cabanatuan. One day, our uncle asked if we would be interested in working at the nearby barrio of Pangatian in Hacienda Lopez to harvest rice.  I needed to earn some money  before I went to my folks in Pangasinan.  So my two cousins and I–all girls–went.  We stayed at the house of Tatang Simeon Valenzuela, the overseer of the hacienda.

On the first week of our stay in Pangatian, we were serenaded by the young men of the barrio almost every night.  Our visitors usually stayed late, so we had just a few hours of sleep before we woke up at day break to go to the harvest field.  Tatang Simeon noticed how we became sluggish because of lack of sleep. From then on he gave a regulation for the serenaders. “From now on there will be no serenaders on weekdays, only on weekends and on my approval.” We liked the new rule, and so did the five Valenzuela sons, Igmedio, Simeon Jr,  Pantaleon, Apolonio and Jose. Igmedio–also called Reming–and the eldest of the five sons was with the first group of serenaders. They had two sisters- Juliana and Dora.

Inang’s eyes lit up as she related this part of the story.

“Did you live in the same house?” I asked with anticipation.

Yes we did but when my cousins and I moved in with the Valenzuelas,  the Valenzuela boys slept in the barung-barong (a makeshift house usually constructed on the other side of the property.) But we all ate together.

“Did you and Tatang date before you got married?” I inquired.

Oh no!!!! No! No! No! She shook her head vehemently.  No, the older Valenzuela boys were not allowed to talk to us girls. That’s improper. We only had conversations around the table when we were eating in front of everyone.  Tatang Simeon instructed the boys not to bother us.

With eagerness I asked, “So then how did you get to know and liked each other?”

Well, your Tatang did not court me. He was too shy to even talk to me.  Some unfortunate events brought us together.

Again, I saw the glow in her eyes as she narrated the story:

My cousins and I ended up staying in Pangatian longer than we planned.  We then became members of the household. The Japanese invasion made it difficult for me to go home to Pangasinan.  I got stuck in Pangatian.

One night,  when we were having dinner, several men came looking for Tatang Simeon.  They were the guerillas–civilian people who secretly organized themselves to fight against the Japanese invaders. Tatang Simeon invited them in, but only three of them came inside the house.  All the others stayed outside guarding all the exits–doors and windows.  The Valenzuelas knew that the guerillas were rounding up all families with male members for recruitment in the local guerilla unit.  While Tatang Simeon was talking to his guests Inang Catalina, Tatang Simeon’s wife, whisked Igmedio into a room to hide him from the men, hoping that they wouldn’t find him.  She hid him in the closet where the blankets, pillows and banig (woven mats) were kept when not in use. One of the men became suspicious.  He and his other companion went inside the room and quickly found Igmedio.

“O heto ang isa nagtatago sa silid.”  (Heres one hiding in the closet.)  Inang Catalina started to cry and begged the guerillas to spare him.  “Maawa na po kayo, huwag ninyo siyang kuhanin.  Malapit na po siyang ikasal.”  (Please have mercy, don’t take him away.  He’s about to get married.) Then I heard her calling my name.  “Basil, halika dito!” (Basil please come over here!)  I did not understand what was going on and so I heeded the call. “Siya po ang nobya ni Igmedio at malapit na silang ikasal.” (She is my son’s fiance and they will be married soon.) Hearing what Inang Catalina just said Tatang Simeon whispered to me in Ilocano. He said, “Ibagam nga nobyom ni Reming. Nu haan alain da isuna.”  (Tell them that Reming is your fiancé, if not they will take him away.) Sure enough, one of the guerillas interrogated, “Talaga bang nobyo mo siya?” ( Is he really your fiancé?)  “Opo”, I answered rather sheepishly. “Eh bakit ka dito nakatira?” (So  why do you live here?), continued the guerilla.  Tatang Simeon quickly answered, “Mga dayo lang dito yan” (They are not from here), pointing to me and my cousins.  “Taga Kalawagan sila, nagpunta sila dito para tumulong sa pag-ani ng palay.” (They are from Kalawagan. They are here to help in harvesting rice.) “Ha ganoon ba?  Kailan ang kasal?” (Is that so?  When is the wedding?), asked the guerilla with a hint of suspicion. “Sa susunod na buwan po. Inaanyayahan ko kayong dumalo.” (Next month and I’m inviting all of you), quipped Tatang Simeon.  Before they left they warned that if the wedding did not take place as told, they would enlist Reming to the active guerilla unit.

When I woke up the next day,  I was so confused, worried  and angry.  I was very embarrassed about what happened the night before. Why did I say yes? I cannot believe I got into this sticky situation. Reming’s parents had been teasing me about their son, but that was it. He never approached or even talked to me about anything, and now we were getting married?  I thought of escaping but the situation with the Japanese was very dangerous.  I was so ashamed about what I did so I decided to hide in the dugout in the nearby field.  The barrio folks made dugouts in the fields to serve as shelters in the event of Japanese air bombings.  I told my cousins not to tell anybody where I was.  They brought me food and water in the dugout during my stay there. However, at the insistence of Tatang Simeon, my cousins finally told him where I was and he came to talk to me.

“Basil, pasensiya ka na sa nangyari, kailangan lang para maingatan si Reming. Mabait naman ang panganay kong si Reming ah, masipag pa at may sarili nang bukid.” (Basil, I apologize for what happened. It was just necessary to protect Reming. You see, my first born son is a kind man. Besides, he is hard working and he has his own farm already), Tatang Simeon explained. Still upset, I answered, “Tatang bakit po kayo nagsinungaling?  Wala naman kaming relasyon ng anak ninyo. Ayaw  ko pong magpakasal nang hindi alam ng mga magulang ko!” (Tatang, why did you tell a lie?  I have no relationship with your son. I don’t want to get married without my parents knowing!)Tatang Simeon would not take no for an answer. “Pero ang mga magulang mo ay nasa Pangasinan. Sigurado ako maiintindihan nila. Basil, makinig ka sana sa akin. Madaling mahalin si Reming. Tulad mo mabuti siyang tao, mabait at masunuring anak. Hindi ka magsisisi kung siya ang mapapangasawa mo. Kung mag-aasawa rin lang siya, gusto ko ikaw para sa kanya. Bagay kayo, maniwala ka sa akin? (But your parents are in Pangasinan, it would be difficult to send for them. I’m sure your parents will understand. Basil,  please listen to me. Reming is easy to love. Like you he is a good person, kind and obedient son. You won’t regret if you will marry him. I want you for him. You are a good match, believe me.)

Tatang’s pep talk angered me even more. I still cried every night and I did not eat most of the time, especially when Reming was around. I avoided him. I also skipped farm work for many days, and didn’t want to talk to anyone.

By this time in Inang’s story, we were jumping out of our seats. “Didn’t you have any feelings for him at all at that time?” Inang let out a big smile and continued her story.

Not that I didn’t like him, it’s just that I was so confused. I got engaged to a man whom I did not know. We had not even talked to each other before. I didn’t know him and I didn’t even know if he really liked me. I heard that he was seeing a  beautiful girl in the barrio who liked him also. I heard the others in the rice field gossiping about them.

“So you liked him and you were jealous?”, my siblings and I laughed together. She smiled with a glow in her eyes.

Well, after the event that night, I started to notice him. He was indeed a very good man. I liked the way he treated his parents, especially his mother and sisters. He was very obedient and respectful to his parents, and incredibly hardworking.  And yes, he was handsome, especially when he was wearing his newly ironed white long-sleeved shirt whenever he went to the city on weekends. One time before our scheduled wedding while we were eating at the dinner table, he asked if I could iron his pants and long-sleeved shirt. Of course I said yes because I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of everyone.

When I was done ironing his clothes he came by to pick them up. I held his clothes out to him and as he reached to grab the neatly folded pile, our hands touched. I felt his hand gently cup around mine. I almost screamed, but I was able to control my self.  He held my hand tighter and he whispered. “Basilisa, ay-ayaten  ka, isu  ngarud nga pakasaran ka!  (“Basilisa, I love you. That’s why I’m marrying you!”) Then he left immediately.

I wasn’t able to sleep that night but I felt peace in my heart. I knew then that I was ready to marry him, but I felt bad that my family did not know what was going on.

After that moment, he began to send me food and merienda (snacks) when I was working in the field. Sometimes he would get close just to say “Kumusta kan Basil?” (How are you, Basil?) Tatang Simeon arranged for us to talk in the house some nights but not without a chaperone. I found out that he was a funny guy and had a beautiful singing voice. Igmedio’s brothers, sisters and my cousins soon caught on and began to playfully tease us.

Two weeks before my scheduled wedding, while working in the rice field, I heard my cousin yelling and calling out my name.  “Basil!!  Basil!! Adda agbirbiruk kenka!! Basil!!  Basil!!” (Someone’s looking for you!!) I looked to where she pointed and saw a familiar figure approaching. It was my father!  I ran to him as he was running toward me.  Almost hysterical,  I hugged and kissed him. My father kissed me from head to toe! Then he related to us how he got to Cabanatuan from Pangasinan. He said that it took him several weeks to travel on foot to come and find me.  He avoided Japanese check points and begged people to help him with food and shelter along the way.  That night my father gave me a heart-to-heart talk.

“Basil, anak, nasayaat unay  no umanamong ka a ni Reming ti pakiasawaam.  Ta isu na naimbag, ket nasayaat unay ti damag na, ken kasta met ti panangipateg dagiti dadakkel na kenka ket aywanan dakanto ti amin nga kabaelanda.  Dayta ti inkari ken impanamnama ti pamilyada ken dagiti nagannakna kaniak.  Isu nga natalgedak unay anak ko no isuna ti maasawam.” (Basil, my daughter, you would be better off if you will agree to marry Reming.  He is a good man and he came from a good family. His parents assured me that you will be loved and taken cared of, not only by him but by the entire family. I will be very happy for you anak.)

My father Jose Emperio gave his blessings on my marriage to your father.  My wedding was simple but beautiful.  Your father was a wonderful man and I really loved him.  Within one year of our marriage he built this house.

That night I heard mother silently cried–again–just like many other nights. She still missed him many years after his death in 1964 at the young age of 42. Mother did not marry again, although there were several proposals after she was widowed. She selflessly dedicated herself unselfishly to single-handedly raise their brood of 8. I am blessed to be one of them–the 7th. The legacy of their unique love story continues as 17 grandchildren and presently 22 great grandchildren were added to the family. All praises be to God!