Life, like humans, is a nomad. It continues to touch
people then move on. Like the gentle stirring of the tree’s branches as the
wind gently kisses it, so too, is life. It touches you and transforms you, and
like an end to a growing crescendo it fleets away like a dying ember. But with
the imprint left behind, it changes you.
And in the process alters you for the better.
They are wives, mothers, and my Lolas. Two complex
individuals, with each other’s differences, yet, like notes to a harmony, work
together.
The first one was widowed in her early life. With 3 young
girls in tow, she managed to bring them up as smart as smart can be and reared
a lot of grand children in the process.
Her name was Lola Deling.
The second one raised ten children which eventually gave
her dozens of grandchildren and great grandchildren. She even survived the
original Ka Ponyong by more than two decades. Her name was Lola Talia.
Two complex individuals. Two distinct personalities. Two
views on life.
One, a strict disciplinarian. The other, a silent
spoiler. The first one, a traditional grandmother, the second one, a hip granny
complete with sunglasses and bandana.
Lola Deling, as we all fondly call her was your
traditional lola. I never saw her dressed up, as she was always garbed in her
favorite “duster”. Her favorite passion
is cooking. My love for cooking came from her. She influenced me and taught me
to cook. She was my on-hand mentor when cooking up something. Without Google
then, she is just a phone call away, when I am seeking for the cooking
instruction of a certain meal.
When we were kids, she runs a small sari-sari store. And
every morning before I go to school she would give me baon of ten cents. Which I will save until after school is over and
the minute I jumped out of our sundo, I would go straight to her store and buy
ice candy (for 5 cents) and my favorite Beatles biscuit (for another 5 cents).
Later in her life, she lived with us. And during that
time I experienced her strict disciplinary way of, well, disciplining us. She
became famous for her “rasyon”, with
seven of us kids and very meager food, she will patiently divide the food into
equal parts so there will be no “lamangan”.
Because of her, I know the taste of Perla, the detergent
soap. Whenever I say a swear word, or I tell a lie, she will take me to the kitchen
and wash my mouth with detergent soap, “to cleanse my mouth of foul language”.
She practised corporal punishment for every infraction I do. I’ve endured the
broom handle, “pingot” and the
dreaded “kurot sa singit” which for
me was the worse punishment ever.
When my aunt’s family decided to live in Naga City, she
went with them to take care of my cousin. When she came back, she has grown
utterly old, albeit living only in Naga for I think 3 or 4 years.
From then on, she lived in my aunt’s house and I would
visit her frequently as the house is only a block away from us.
As I grew older, she has been the constant guide in every
step I do. She constantly taught us how to deal with life. And even came to my
defense when things got rough.
My frequent visit continued as she grew older. And during
those times, she imparted in me lots of lessons. From how to handle my money, to
how to deal with my siblings, to how to survive.
One time during my visit, she handed me the Black Book my
mother left for us. I will never forget her agony and despair when my sister
died. It was a heart rending moment
which was captured on cam and preserved in my memory forever.
She left us peacefully in 1998.
I was told by my Tita that during the last few hours of
her life she kept lamenting how unready she was to die because, I and one of my
cousin is still single and wanted to see yet her apo from us first.
She was a Spanish mestiza, and her background was
somewhat cloudy in my mind, I remember she was originally from Cebu, how he end
up in Agdangan, I never knew. Her Castilian features were passed on to most of
her children, grandchildren and eventually the entire Andalis clan.
Lola Talia, on the other hand, was physically present
during my early years, she lived with us a few months after my mother died. I
don’t have much recollection of her during my early years, except that she
oftentimes kept herself busy with her latest crochet projects. She would take us to Agdangan together with our
Lolo Ponyong during summer to experience the rural life. The beach is something
we always looked forward to when we visit the place.
She left for the USA together with my Lolo when I was in
grade school. And unlike my Lolo who never got to go back home when he was
still alive, my Lola would travel frequently back to the Philippines to visit
us. Still carrying the tradition of bringing us to Agdangan during summer, she
would continue doing so for so many times she visited the Philippines that
Agdangan became our second home.
Being a spoiler, she managed to send me greeting cards
with money inserted during my birthday and send us gifts in balikbayan boxes
during Christmas. We always gathered around the box as it was opened waiting
for that genuine waft of a scent we always associate with “stateside” . She
often asked us what we need and she would send it to us. In exchange, we always
send her letters every time one of our aunts or uncles visited the Philippines.
She was the one who introduced me to wearing long pants
when it wasn’t required yet in elementary school. I was the first student who
wore pants and it made me feel an adult back then. She was the one who cajoled
me and influenced me to study in a seminary in high school. She even went with
me to the seminary to take the exams and again during the final interview with
the rector. She was so excited with my decision that she even agreed to serve
as my sponsor.
I will never forget my father’s joy when for the first
time in his life he will be graced by my Lola’s presence on his birthday. My
father was so happy that day that he even announced it during his speech during
the gathering prepared for his bash by his staff.
High school and college years passed by so quickly that
during this time, I became busy with growing up, meeting new friends and
enjoying new independence. She was present during my high school graduation,
well not in the ceremony itself. But she was back in the Philippines.
Being a constant spoiler, I received so many gifts from
her. My first Viewfinder, my first remote controlled car, our first colored TV,
my first set of underwear (hahaha), my first cardigan, the calculator that
accompanied me as I was doing my majors in college, to name a few. But more
than those material things, she never failed to send us her love in each words
eloquently written in her penmanship.
She went home again to bury one of my aunt. And after not
seeing her for a long time, I embraced her
and the moment I let go, she immediately inspect my left eye. I never
knew what was going on in her mind that time. And I never got to ask her, but
it was the first time someone touched my left eye and brow and with so much
motherly care that I never knew and felt before.
The last time I saw her was when my sister died. The irony
of it is that it would have been a joyous occasion but except for the reason
why she went back home.
As years went by, her health slowly deteriorated. And in the summer of 2001, she left us.
Words cannot described how I felt when I received the
news. What made it even harder was that I was tasked to accompany my father and
wait for the release of her cadaver. Inside that wooden crate was my Lola whom
I looked up to. Tears came flowing down when we did a quick stopover in Lucena
for a check and retouch of her make-up. And when the funeral staff opened her
casket, tears welled uncontrollably.
One of my most joyous moments I will forever hold in my
mind was when their paths crossed. I would accompany Lola Talia during her visits
to her balae, Lola Deling, every time she’s back in the
Philippines. And she never failed. They would talk endlessly with the usual kumustahan and other stuffs only
grandmothers know. Deep in me, I feel elated that the two women I ever loved
crossed path not just once, but several times, if I could only freeze that
moment in time.
This year, the two women whom I ever loved, and kept so
close in my heart, would have turned 100. Two women who taught me so much in
life. Two women who touched me and understood me, who feels what I feel and
knows me inside and out. Two women who inspired me to go on no matter what. Two
women whom I felt, proud in my accomplishments, however small it may be.
HAPPY 100th BIRTHDAY LOLA TALIA & LOLA
DELING.
IN MEMORIAM
ADELAIDA CASTRO VILLAREAL NATALIA
AGUILAR ANDALIS
1912-1998 1912-2001
