Catharsis 3: How are you?

“How are you?”

That’s the question I usually get nowadays. And I honestly don’t know how to answer that. I don’t know what kind of answer is expected – “I am sad”?… “I am fine”?… “No comment?”

I know that my dear friends do not really expect an answer, and that they just want to show their sympathy, empathy and love. But that question really made me think… how am I doing now?

The truth is… I am not depressed… but I am not happy either. I won’t say that I was devastated with my father’s passing. But I feel this deep sense of sadness every time I remember him. This longing makes me cry at night, especially when I’m alone. It makes me cry when I read a consoling letter from friends, even from those who didn’t even know him. It makes me cry now, that I am writing about him.

I told a good friend that maybe I am not devastated because I didn’t have a lot issues about my father. We had a fairly normal and happy relationship – no frustrations, no regrets, no drama. There were not much thunder and lightning. It was mostly easy, peaceful and calm. There were a lot of fond memories with my father. And my 3-page eulogy for him did not do justice to how he was as a father.

I know that he has lived a very full life. And for 35 years of that life, he was a very good father to me. I couldn’t, and shouldn’t, ask for more. He has provided so many things, experiences and opportunities, that I am fine when he had to leave. What breaks my heart is the fact that my nieces could have seen more of their lolo. And that my own child/ren could have played with their lolo, and watched their lolo perform magic. I feel deep sadness everytime I am reminded that my mommy would now spend her days without daddy. I feel sad for those who did not know him and how special he was.

I am fine most of the time. He has brought me up to be someone strong enough to weather these kinds of situations. So there is really nothing to be sad about, except for the fact that I miss him sometimes. But as a friend said, it is the good kind of missing someone. He didn’t go because he wanted to leave us. It’s just that it was his time to go.

So when faced with the same question again, I will just say, “Ok lang”. And maybe add, “I cry, but my life goes on”.

(Eppie, when I read this piece again, I realized that I talked about him in the past tense. I guess that means that it has sunk it.)

Catharsis 2: Love Story

I believe that my father and mother has one of the best love stories around. Just to give you a glimpse of their love for each other, please read below the transcript of daddy's one of many love letters to mommy. The picture above is the scanned copy of the actual love letter. Mommy kept it in her files after all these years.

Belated happy valentine's day!

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TRANSCRIPT OF GUILLY’S LOVE LETTER TO NORIE

La Salette of Aurora
Aurora Isabela
April 6, 1972

Minutes of the Norie-Emong Meeting

The meeting was held in the residence of Norie on April 5, 1972 at about 5:30pm. The agendum is “to be or not to be”. The meeting was chaired by Emong.

The chairman asked Norie whether she had read the love letter already. Norie answered, “Yes”, and even quoted the last but pertinent paragraph of the letter. The Chairman asked for further remarks but she said “No comment”. The body then proceeded to the division of the house but she couldn’t cast her vote. Because of this, the chairman got nervous. He doesn’t know what to do next. Yun pala ay kinakabahan din si Norie. Di din nya malaman ang kanyang gagawin. The air was somewhat tensed and filled with excitement. At last, the chairman asked her, “Di mo ba ako mahal?” She retorted, “Ano ba sa palagay mo?” The chairman answered that she loves him. At ganon nga palang talaga. So the two had arrived at a consensus that they are sweethearts. After a while, the two lovers were tongue-tied. All they can do is to exchange glances and smiles.

The meeting was adjourned at about 6:20pm but before they departed, the next meeting was fixed at 7:30pm of the same night.


Approved by:

(Sgd.) Guillermo M. Mercado
President Romeo

(Sgd.) Normita E. Pasion
Secretary Juliet

Copy furnished:
1. Emong
2. Norie

Catharsis 1: Strength

“first, my prayers and condolences... i won't say that i know how it feels how to lose a father. and i know that i cannot do anything to make things easier.but i would like to thank you for sharing your thoughts. i hope that i can be as brave as you are. your piece really touched me. i couldn't stop crying. hugs to you.”

This was my private message to a friend when their family lost their father in mid January. I admired her for her strength – writing how she felt during their time of crisis. I saw a certain kind of fortitude that I wanted to have when the time comes. Never have I thought that only after less than 2 weeks, I would be in their shoes. Thank you for your courage in putting your feelings in paper.

It was somehow easier for me since I was away. The distance has kept me in a bubble, free from the worries back home. I never saw him in the hospital, I never saw him weak, I never saw him close his eyes for the last time, I never saw the medical staff attempt to revive him. My last memory of daddy is that he was still alive, albeit a bit weak, when I kissed him and told him that I was leaving for Manila.

I could not imagine how mommy and sister felt during that critical time. I never dared to ask. I don’t want to know… for now.

Another friend who also lost his father last year, told me about how difficult it was for him to see his father slowly succumbing to his illness. He told me how, being at his bedside, it pained him to see his father look at him, knowing that he has a few moments to live. I know it’s difficult for you to relieve that moment, but I thank you for sharing the pain that you felt. It somehow eased mine.

A lot of friends have shared their own struggles of how it is like to lose someone dear to you. Thank you for making me realize that I, too, will feel better soon.

I would like to thank you…
… for being with me at the airport during the darkest moment in my life
… for being the first faces I saw when I got back to the Philippines
… for taking care of things and informing friends of my father’s passing
… for being with me on the way home
… for sharing your stories and painful moments, remembering your own parent’s demise
… for being there. Thank you for showing up. Your presence was a pleasant surprise
… for giving your support, not just to me, but to my mother, my sister and the whole family
… for the messages, calls, hugs, squeeze in the hands
… for the flowers, food, cards and financial support
… for telling me what to do after this. Your words of advice are very valuable
… for making me laugh
… for sharing your stories about daddy
… for your affirmation that daddy is indeed special
… for your friendship
… for your strength… you inspire me


11:00am
08 February, 2010
Monday
Onboard SilkAir flight
from Phnom Penh to Singapore

Guillermo M. Mercado

I would like to take this opportunity to introduce our daddy, Guillermo M. Mercado to everyone. You might have known him as an insurance agent, a teacher and an active member of various civic and religious organizations, but I am sure that there are so many things you don’t know about him.

As you all know, he is a very quiet and soft-spoken man – will not brag nor sing his own praises. So please allow me to speak lengthily about him, so you will know how special he really is.

Daddy is known as Emong to his parents, siblings, relatives and childhood friends. He is the 5th of 8 children. She was born in Malasin, San Jose, Nueva Ecija. In May of 2009, while we were going home to Isabela from Manila, he suddenly suggested to go around San Jose to look for their old house. I remember him telling us where he used to live and where his old school was, and reminisce about his childhood.

I also remember him always telling my sister and I when we were small, a very old story of how he nearly wasn’t able to go up the stage for his elementary graduation. He didn’t have shoes, and had to borrow a pair from a classmate. I also remember him telling us that he used to walk from their house going to school. He, together with his siblings, had a very simple life. They had nothing most of the time, so he knew how it is to make both ends meet.

He is Guillermo to his classmates and friends. Our mommy always told us about this story, how daddy was a math wiz. He was known in their college as the one who was good in math.

He is Guilly to his colleagues. He met his best friend and wife at La Salette of Aurora where they were both teaching high school. He was teaching Theology then. When he saw our mother, he knew that she was the one for him. So he wrote her love letters which mommy still kept until now. (You can see a sample of his letters, posted on the glass door in front). He was Romeo, and mommy was his Juliet.

Guilly was a well-rounded young man. He played the guitar and the harmonica. He attempted to draw and make sketches. He also liked playing table tennis. He is a musician and an artist. But please don’t ask him to sing. It is a constant family joke that he, like my sister, are tone deaf and sintonado.

He is Darleng to his wife and best friend. They did not call each other Darling. They called each other Darleng. They were inseparable. It was not only their friends and colleagues who noticed this, but also our relatives and even my and Divine’s friends. He is Batman to Robin, and Robin to Batman.

Mommy always used to tell us… “Your daddy is one in a million”. That means that there are only 92 daddies in the Philippines who are as great as you, Daddy. And now, this elite group is down to 91.

He is Kuyang to mommy’s relatives. He treated mommy’s relatives, not as in-laws, but as his own. He unselfishly shared what our family had to relatives, without expecting anything in return.

He is daddy to me and Divine/Mayette and to our cousins, Bullet, Boss and Sir. He and mommy only had 2 children, because they wanted us to have the best. They were struggling financially when we were still young, so they felt that 2 children were enough. I knew this because he always told us. He worked before with the National Statistics Office. I remember going to his office in Aurora, Isabela, and seeing pop-ed comics about family planning.

Daddy was a very good provider – dedicated, focused and very innovative. When we were small, he had a vegetable garden in our backyard. He always told us that as long as we have vegetables in the garden, we will never grow hungry. We had kamote, pechay, papaya trees, calamansi, kamias, chico, coconut, Chinese tea and others.

He also had a beautiful flower garden in front of our house. He had roses and daisies, and planted Bermuda grass. I remember that we used to help him weed out the lawn so we can sit down in the afternoon on a bed of lush Bermuda greens.

He taught us how to recycle – bottles, plastic bags, furniture, clothes, almost everything. In our household, we make maximize everything before throwing it away. He made a compost pit in our backyard, and used the old compost as fertilizers for his plants. He is a handyman and an environmentalist.

Not many of you will know, but our daddy is also a magician. He had so many magic tricks with the pingpong ball, with ropes and with cards. I remember that my sister and I used to assist our Daddy Magician during his performances in front of our cousins and friends.

He is also into photography. My sister and I are very lucky because we became his most favorite subjects. So we had albums of baby pictures. I remember that he used to have a Dark Room to process all his photos. Unfortunately, he had to sell his equipments to give way for more important expenses.

My sister and I were very happy when Daddy purchased our very first family transportation – a motorcycle. I think that was back in 1982. He bought the motorcycle when in fact, he doesn’t know how to ride a bike. So he taught himself how to ride a motorcycle. That is how determined he was.

Being an educator himself, he sent us to good schools, even if it meant sacrificing the luxuries that couples usually have – vacations and travels. He also knew the value of having good books for his children. He had a part time job selling Grolier books. This also gave him opportunities to buy expensive books on discount. So my sister and I had so many books, that some our friends and classmates regularly visit the house just to read. He knows how to motivate us and refused to spoon-feed us. Every time we ask him what the meaning of a word is, he tells us to look it up into our very big and old dictionary.

My father is a very good salesperson. He sold almost everything – from books, personal effects, car insurance, life insurance, to health insurance. I remember a good friend telling me, “Ang hirap magbenta sa bahay nyo. Bibili nga ang daddy mo. Pero pag labas ko ng bahay nyo, may naibenta din sya sa akin. Kulang pa ang tubo ko para pambayad.” That’s how good he was. I think it’s because he really believes in what he is selling. And he is doing that not just to make profit, but to help.

Very slowly, daddy and mommy ‘s hardwork paid off. Friends and relatives noticed that slowly, our finances were getting better and our lives were getting more comfortable. But even if he can already afford to buy expensive shoes, designer shirts and perfumes, he preferred the simple things in life. He still wore white shirt from Caritas, his company. He wore only a couple of comfortable diabetic-friendly shoes. He only wore clothes and perfumes which are gifts from us.

He is Lolo to Summer, Red, Marcus and Bossing. He was very patient with the kids, never getting tired of answering their why’s and explaining very difficult questions like, “Why is the moon following us?”. When he was still driving, he brings his apo’s to school and picks them up after. He taught them how to recycle used bond paper into sketch and notepads. He taught them how to organize their things and how not to make a mess.

I am so happy to see people tonight. Friends he made for the past years – from Aurora, from the Knights of Columbus, from Kabalikat, from insurance companies, from Marriage Encounter, from BCBP, from Caritas. I know that Daddy touched your lives somehow.

I hope that tonight, you have known him better. He is a Salesperson, Romeo to his Juliet, an Educator, Math wiz, Magician, Musician, Artist, Green thumb, Photographer, an Environmentalist, and so much more.

He is Guillermo, Emong, Guilly, My Darleng, Kuyang, Daddy, Lolo…

We will surely miss you, Daddy. But I know that you have lived a full life. So our tears are not for you. Our tears are for us, because we will miss you. We love you so much!