Kung ano ako ngayon, kung ano man ang narating ko, ay ipinagpapasalamat ko ng malaki, una sa Maykapal, pangalawa sa aking mga magulang – sa aking ama at ina.
Walang sinomang makakahigit sa mga sakripisyong ginawa para sa akin ng aking mga magulang – lalong-lalo na ng aking ina na ang sinanapuna’y pinaglagakan ng mga semilyang binuklod ng Panginoon upang pagsimulan ng buhay kong pahiram Niya sa akin.
Sino ba ang pwedeng makahigit sa ginawa ng aking ina na siyam na buwang hinayaang ako’y maging bahagi ng kanyang katawan? Ang sinapupunan niya’y ang unang mundong aking ginalawan. At nang dumating ang panahon na kaylangan ko nang lumabas patungo sa isang bagong mundo ay ibinuwis niya ang kanyang buhay.
At sino rin ang pwede makahigit sa ginawa ng aking ama na nagbanat ng buto upang tiyakin na kaming mga mahal niya sa buhay ay may bubong na masisilungan at sa hapag-kainan ay may makakain?
Tiniis ng aking ina ang sakit upang ako’y mailuwal. Sinuong ni ama ang ulan at init upang ibigay ang aming mga pangangaylangan. Napakalaki ng ginawa nilang sakripisyo, magkatuwang ang aking ina at ama, sa pagpapalaki at pag-aruga sa akin at aking mga kapatid. Hindi ko pwedeng kalimutan iyon. At iyo’y hindi pagtanaw ng utang na loob. Iyon ay bunga ng itinanim nilang pagmamahal. Hindi ba’t nakatakda nating anihin ang alin mang ating itanim, mabuti man o masama.
Kaya nga nakakatawa nang sabihin ng isa kong tiyahin na ako raw ay maka-ina. Aba’y dapat lang. Ganoon naman ang natural na nagiging takbo ng mga relasyon sa pamilya. Madalas na ang mga anak ay nagiging maka-ina sa dahilang mas madalas nakikita ng mga anak ang kanilang ina sa bahay.
Subalit alam ko ang dahilan kung bakit madalas hindi namin kapiling ang ama sa bahay. Siya’y kaylangang maghanap-buhay upang kami’y suportahan. Maka-ina ako pero pantay ang pagmamahal ko sa aking mga magulang. Wala akong itutulak at kakabigin.
Nagtanim ang aking ina – ganoon din ang aking ama – ng pagmamahal na tumubo sa aking puso’t isip. Hindi ba matatawag na pagtatanim ng pagmamahal ang ginawa nilang pag-aalaga sa akin mula ako’y isang sanggol na walang kamalay-malay hanggang sa punto ng buhay ko na kinaya ko nang tumayo sa aking sariling mga paa. Inaani nila ngayon ang bunga ng pagmamahal na iyon at hindi nila ito kaylangang sungkitin, kusa itong lumalaglag patungo sa kanila.
Isang milyong beses mang magkamali ang aking ina ay hindi ko siya pwedeng talikuran. Katulad ng hindi ko pagtalikod sa aking ama noong siya’y nabubuhay pa kahit ako’y buhay na saksi sa mga pagkukulang niya. Tama o mali man ang aking mga magulang eh sila ang kakampihan ko. Simple lang ang dahilan – mahal ko sila. Hindi pwedeng burahin ng anomang depekto sa pagkatao ng aking ina at ama ang pagmamahal ko sa kanila.
Ang dalawang pinakamahahalagang aral sa buhay na natutuhan ko ay hindi galing sa mga guro ko sa eskwelahan. Ang mga aral na naturan na nagsilbi kong gabay upang mamuhay ng tama ay galing sa aking mga magulang.
Ang una – ang itinuro sa akin ng aking ama’y huwag akong umasa sa ibang tao. Dapat daw ay matuto akong tumayo sa aking sariling mga paa. Unang narinig ko sa aking ama ang mga konsepto na “magtiwala sa sarili” at “magbanat ka ng buto.” Simpleng tao lamang ang aking ama at pilit akong nagsikap at nagsusumikap pa dahil batid kong ang buhay na meron ako’t ang daang tinatahak ko ay ang katuparan ng kanyang pangarap.
Pangalawa’t huli – tinuruan ako ng aking ina na magdasal at magkaroon ng matibay na pananampalataya sa Panginoon. Ang pananampalatayang iminulat niya sa akin ay panghahawakan ko upang huwag akong maligaw ng landas. Hindi man perpekto ang buhay na tinahak ng aking ina at ama ay tiniyak nilang maituro sa akin ang daan patungo sa aking tagumpay at kaligtasan.
Ang isang bagay naman na natutuhan ko pareho sa kanila ay ang kultura ng pagbabasa. Sobrang hilig ng ama kong magbasa – 2 diyaryo sa isang araw. Hindi man siya nakatungtong ng high school eh “Inglisero” ang ama ko. Ang nakakatuwa, kapag siya’y nalalasing, hindi siya nagsasalita ng Tagalog, puro English. Dumudugo noon ang ilong ko sa pakikinig sa kanya, lalo na kapag pinipilit niya akong sumagot sa mga sinasabi niya sa English.
Ang ina ko nama’y magasin at komiks. Madalas ko din siyang nakikitang nagbabasa ng libro dahil nagpatuloy siyang mag-aral sa kolehiyo noong kaming magkakapatid ay malalaki na’t hindi na alagain. At tuwing hapon noon, matapos kaming magdasal ng rosaryo, kasama ang aking lola, ay nsgsilbi naming tutor ang aking ina.
Salamat po ama… ina sa lahat-lahat. Diyan sa langit ay baunin ninyo ang pasasalamat at pagmamahal naming magkakapatid at mga apo ninyo.
Dakila kayong mga magulang. Lubos-lubos ang pasasalamat ko sa Panginoon na kayo ang mga itinalaga niya na naging ama’t ina ko.
—– Who I am today and whatever I’ve achieved, I owe an outstanding debt of gratitude—first to the Almighty and second to my parents, father, and mother. No one can surpass the sacrifices they made for me, especially my mother, who carried within her the seeds that the Lord bound together to begin the life He has lent to me.
Who could ever surpass what my mother did, allowing me to be a part of her body for nine months? Her womb was the first world I ever knew. And when the time came for me to enter this new world, she risked her life to bring me into it. And who could outdo my father, who toiled tirelessly to ensure we had a roof over our heads and food on our table?
My mother endured the pain to bring me into this world, and my father braved the rain and heat to provide for our needs. Together, their sacrifices were immense, raising and nurturing me and my siblings. I can never forget that, and it’s not just about repaying a debt of gratitude; it’s the love they planted in me. After all, don’t we reap what we sow, good or bad?
It’s amusing when one of my aunts says I’m a “mama’s boy.” Of course I am! That’s the natural course of family relationships. Children often grow closer to their mothers because they’re more frequently at home. But I understand why we didn’t always have our father with us. He had to work to support us. I may be close to my mother, but my love for my parents is equal. I wouldn’t push one away or pull the other closer.
My mother planted love in me—so did my father—and that love grew in my heart and mind. Isn’t it fair to call it sowing love when they cared for me from when I was an innocent baby until I could finally stand on my own feet? They are now reaping the fruits of that love and don’t need to reach for it—it falls naturally into their hands.
Even if my mother made a million mistakes, I could never turn my back on her, just as I never turned away from my father when he was alive, despite witnessing his shortcomings. Right or wrong, my parents will always have my support. The reason is simple—I love them. No flaw in their character can erase my love for them.
The two most important lessons I’ve learned in life didn’t come from my teachers at school. The lessons that guided me to live rightly came from my parents.
The first was that my father taught me never to rely on others. He said I must learn to stand on my own feet. From him, I first heard the concepts of “self-reliance” and “hard work.” My father was a simple man, and I have strived and continue to strive because I know that my life and the path I walk fulfill his dreams.
The second is that my mother taught me to pray and have unwavering faith in the Lord. The faith she instilled in me will guide me so I don’t lose my way. Though my parents’ lives were imperfect, they showed me the path to success and salvation.
One thing I learned from both of them is the culture of reading. My father loved to read—two newspapers a day. Even though he never finished high school, my father was fluent in English. It was amusing; he spoke only in English whenever he got drunk. I used to get nosebleeds just listening to him, especially when he insisted I respond in English.
As for my mother, she loved magazines and comics. I often saw her reading books, especially since she continued her studies in college after we, her children, were grown. And every afternoon, after we prayed the rosary with my grandmother, my mother would serve as our tutor.
Thank you, Father… thank you, Mother, for everything. In heaven, may you carry with you the gratitude and love of your children and grandchildren.
You were extraordinary parents. I am deeply thankful to the Lord for choosing you to be my mother and father.
“Hello… hello… what’s happening in there?” The voices outside grew louder, the banging on the gate more insistent.
Elena and her mother trembled in fear, clinging to each other as the sound of footsteps approached. My hand shook as I opened the gate, revealing several men, including the head of the village.
“Elena… we heard gunshots, so we came over,” said one of the men, his voice rough with concern.
“Sir,” Elena replied, her voice barely a whisper, “please go into the room.”
I stood rooted to the spot, wishing to disappear, hoping it was all a nightmare. The reality of the scene pierced me deeply.
“Son, what have you done?” His mother embraced Daniel, her voice breaking.
“Daniel, why?” Elena’s voice was a fragile echo.
“Forgive me, Mother… Elena… It’s so hard to accept. It hurts so much,” Daniel sobbed.
One of the men said, “Camille is dead.”
The weight of those words drove me to the bathroom. I locked myself inside, the rain outside mirroring my tears. Sadness and regret consumed me. How did it come to this? What kind of person am I?
What did I feel after everything that happened? Who did I blame? If only I had agreed to leave Sagada with her. Maybe she would still be alive. I chose to stay for Elena and our unborn child, but that choice led to death and tragedy. If I had chosen differently, it could have been avoided?
For me, saying what happened is God’s will is the most foolish thing to do. God has nothing to do with what happened. Deep down, I knew the truth. All these happened because of the wrong decisions we made. It all started that day when both of us did not bring umbrellas. A decision that made us seek refuge in that hut. We decided to give in to the temptation when our lips accidentally touched when I needed to warm your body to save you from hypothermia. We decided to give in a second time to that temptation when again we met in that hut.
Daniel went quietly with the police officers who came over to investigate what happened. They consider it unnecessary to bring your body to the hospital for autopsy. They instead called people from a funeral service to take your corpse to a funeral home.
While all those things are happening, the heavy rain continued to pour, the wind howling, the storm refusing to pass.
By nightfall, the house was empty, except for Elena, her mother, and me. The silence was heavy, punctuated only by the occasional sob. I couldn’t approach Elena. A wall of guilt and shame prevent me from doing so.
Should I confess to Elena and her mother what happened between Camille and me? Should I reveal that I was the father of her unborn child? The weight of my secret pressed down on me. I considered staying silent, letting you take the secret to her grave.
“Mom, we should inform Camille’s parents and siblings in Pangasinan about what happened,” Elena said, her voice breaking the silence.
“Yes, Elena. It would be worse if they found out from someone else. They will take Camille’s body back to Pangasinan once they find out what really happened.”
“Yes, you’re right. I don’t expect them to let Camille be buried here in Sagada.”
“Alright, contact them. I’ll speak to Camille’s parents.”
“Do you have any contact numbers of anybody from Camille’s family?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Wait, one of Camille’s cousins is actually my friend on Facebook. I’ll message them and ask for a contact number.”
Elena grabbed her cellphone from the top of the fridge. “Oh no, my battery is low. Dad, can I borrow your laptop? I’ll use it to log into Facebook.”
I took my laptop from the room and handed it to Elena. Then, I stepped out onto the terrace, wrestling with my thoughts. Should I confess everything? The wrong decisions haunted me. Lives had been ruined because of me. Would Elena and her family forgive me if they knew my role in the tragedy? Will there be forgiveness for me? myself?
Then suddenly, I remembered the picture I took of you sleeping in the hut. Panic surged through me as I realized I hadn’t deleted it. I rushed back to the living room. Elena was not there.
“Mom, where’s Elena?” I asked, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
“She went to my room.”
I found Elena sitting on the floor, staring blankly at your picture on my laptop’s desktop. I was cornered with no place to hide.
“Mommy, let me explain,” I began, but Elena’s eyes, filled with shock and tears, cut through me.
I told her everything, from the rain that brought us together in the hut to the plan to leave Sagada. I left nothing out. Her face transformed from shock to anger as she listened, her tears drying up, replaced by a steely resolve.
“Are you done explaining?” she asked, her voice cold.
I nodded.
“Let’s keep this quiet, Jeff. Only the two of us should know about you and Camille.”
For a moment, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe she would forgive me.
“I don’t want to add more to the sorrows and disappointments of my mother. She might not be able to take it.”
“Thank you, Mommy,” I said, moving to hug her, but she pushed me away.
“Don’t thank me. I’m not finished. I want you gone by the time Mom and I wake up tomorrow. I’ll come up with a story about your disappearance. Maybe I’ll say you were kidnapped by rebels. Or I’ll say the police took you away because you’re a drug addict. Addict? Yeah, you are.”
“Mommy,” I pleaded.
“Don’t call me that anymore. I don’t want to hear any kind of endearment from a fucking moron like you. You’re a monster. I am wondering how will you be able to sleep at night with what you have done.”
I bowed my head in shame.
“Don’t bow your head. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
I shook my head, unwilling to meet her gaze.
“I said look at me. Damn it, look at me…” she demanded.
I complied, meeting her fierce, tear-filled eyes.
“Take all your things with you, including the t-shirt you gave to that woman. Sleeping with the fairies is fun, right? Come on, answer her question now. Wasn’t it good? Did you enjoy it? Who f – – ks better… me or Camille?”
“Elena… please…”
I tried to hug her again, but she slapped me, twice. The sting of her hand felt like a physical manifestation of my guilt and shame, piercing my soul.
From now on, everything is over between us. You will never see my child, and I will never introduce you as the father.”
“Mommy… sorry… please forgive me.”
“If your apology could change everything that happened, then I would forgive you. But it can’t, can it? Will you be able to sleep at night? Do you know the extent of what you’ve done? You’re worse than an animal. I wish you had died along with that damn woman.”
I knelt before her, ready to beg, but she turned her back on me and left the room.
“Get out so my mom can rest.”
**********
I left Elena’s house early in the morning, slipping out quietly. At the gate, I turned around, hoping Elena would call me back, but she didn’t. The rain had stopped, but the wind still blew. The streetlights cast long shadows as I walked, carrying all my belongings. When I passed a trash bin, I threw away a bag of old clothes to lighten my load.
There was no vehicle I could take to leave the area, so I decided to walk until I reached the street leading to the mini rice terraces. There was a bit more light, so I took one last look at the terraced fields.
I walked until I saw the hut where it all began. I approached it and went inside. My body and mind were tired, so I decided to rest for a while.
As I was about to lie down, I heard the rain start to fall. I closed the window. As I was about to close the door, I remembered you.
I slowly closed the hut’s door.
I waited, hoping you would push it open to come in and join me once more.
It was another Sunday, and you and Daniel arrived at the house again. For the first time in a while, the sky wore a somber hue as a cold wind whispered through the trees. The news warned of an approaching typhoon, a tempest looming on the horizon.
Inside, Elena and her mother busied themselves with lunch preparations while Daniel practiced his shooting in the backyard. You found me on the terrace, an unexpected encounter that made my heart skip a beat. You glanced around cautiously before speaking, ensuring our conversation was private.
“Jeff… I am two weeks delayed. I’ve been dizzy and vomiting frequently these past few days.”
Your words doused me like a bucket of icy water.
“Why are you telling me this, Camille?”
“Damn you. Aside from Daniel, you’re the only one who F – – KED me. And I’m sure Elena already told you why her brother and I never had children despite being together for so long.”
I knew your husband was sterile. I just didn’t want to accept what you were saying because we were facing a monumental problem if it was true. I hoped you were fabricating a story to get my attention.
“Why don’t you take a test to be sure?”
“Later, I have a pregnancy kit with me. Don’t worry, Jeff. I know you’re suffering from another kind of impotence. You have no spine. You’re a boneless coward. You’re only good at one thing… f – – king. If I’m pregnant, I won’t chase you. I can face this problem alone.”
“Camille…” I attempted to grab your arm.
“Don’t touch me, you spineless coward.” You stepped away, ensuring I wouldn’t be able to touch you.
“It would be fun if I were pregnant, right? You’ll have two children next year. Both firstborns. WOW!!! You’re amazing.”
You left me on the terrace with those biting words. The joy and peace I felt a few weeks ago vanished like a popped bubble. From the terrace, I watched as a light drizzle began, soon turning into a heavy downpour accompanied by strong winds.
“Dad… call Daniel. He’s in the orchard at the back. Tell him lunch is ready.”
I felt like I was floating as I walked to the back of the house to call Daniel.
“Daniel… , they say it’s time to eat.”
“Okay, Jeff. Oh… by the way. Do you want to learn how to handle a gun? I’ll teach you how to shoot.”
I nodded absently, my mind reeling. What would happen if Camille was truly pregnant? What would Elena, Daniel, and their mother say if they found out I got Camille pregnant?
As we entered the house, Daniel placed his bullets and gun on the living room table. The rain had intensified, signaling the storm’s arrival.
“Oh, Daniel… son… Be careful when using your gun, okay?”
“Yes, Mom. I took it out again because I’m planning to attend a shooting competition in Baguio next month.”
“Alright, you can start now. Eat up, kids,” their mother said.
“Wait, where’s Camille?”
“She’s in the bathroom, feeling unwell. She said we should go ahead and eat,” Elena replied.
Daniel stood up and went to the bathroom. You probably forgot to lock the door as he pushed it open.
Though the conversation was muffled, we could hear your voices inside.
“It looks like they’re having a serious conversation in there. It seems like they had another argument. Oh, Elena, what trouble has your brother caused this time?”
“Just let them be, Mom. Let’s just eat,” Elena responded.
Elena started eating, but I couldn’t bring myself to take a bite. An inexplicable anxiety gnawed at me.
After a while, Daniel emerged from the bathroom. You were not with him. He approached Elena and angrily placed a pregnancy test on the table. It was positive.
I could only close my eyes, feeling the weight of the problem that had just surfaced, one I wasn’t sure I could handle. Fate may not have wheels… but karma does, and I felt it was about to run me over. The boomerang I threw was coming back, and it seemed I couldn’t catch it without getting hurt.
The rain pounded heavily on the tin roof like stones falling.
“No… it’s not mine. I’ve known I’m pregnant for a while, so I don’t need to use this.”
Their mother closed her eyes, bowed her head, and shook it slowly.
“Maybe you… you know, you might not be…”
“Don’t take me for a fool, Elena. Just last week, I had another check-up. I was still hoping to get Camille pregnant. But no… I’m still sterile… STERILE.”
Before anyone could move, Daniel grabbed the gun from the side table. He stormed back to the bathroom, dragging you out by your hair. You struggled mightily to break free.
What did I do? Nothing. I should have defended you. You were right… I have no backbone. I’m a coward.
“Son, calm down.”
“Brother… brother…!!!”
I stood there like a stump, doing nothing. I just waited for whatever retribution was due to me for all the foolish things I had done. I wanted to run out of the house, escape, and disappear into thin air.
Daniel dragged you to our room. We followed, but he slammed the door shut. It didn’t close properly, and Elena tried to enter.
“Nobody interferes!”
Elena’s attempt to enter was halted, perhaps because her brother pointed the gun at her.
“Who is your man? WHO?”
The gun went off.
“Oh, merciful God,” their mother said, attempting to enter the room, but Elena stopped her.
“Who is your man, I asked? You slut, who got you pregnant?”
We could do nothing outside the room. We just listened and waited. I just waited for you to say my name.
“How does it feel, Daniel? It hurts, right? That was you… raising your voice on your husband for the first time.
“That’s how much it hurt when you once brought your woman to our house. You thought I already left home for the market. I saw you undressed each other. I saw how you F – – KED her. How many times did I see you enter her house? I followed you many times because I wanted to prove the rumors about you two were true.”
“I left her, didn’t I? I changed, didn’t I? I promised to fix myself… our life, didn’t I?”
“It was too late when you changed, Daniel. I had already dirtied myself before you decided to change. I had already fallen in love with someone else before you changed. I had already betrayed you before you decided to change. I was already F – – KED…”
And the gun went off again… once… twice… thrice.
Silence fell in the room. Silence fell in the house. The only sound was the rain hitting the roof.
Sleep was a distant memory, replaced by the relentless echo of your name. Though I’d made my choice, tethering myself to Elena and our unborn child, the pull towards you remained a stubborn ember. My feelings for you, a complex tapestry woven with threads of longing and regret, refused to unravel. In a world without the weight of impending fatherhood, our paths would have diverged from Sagada, hand in hand.
A dull ache pulsed in my temples as I pushed myself out of bed. Elena was lost in slumber; her peaceful face contrasted with my turmoil. The kitchen offered a momentary respite, and a black coffee was the only solace I could find.
The terrace could offer a momentary respite to clear my head. But fate had other plans. There you were, a tableau of domestic bliss, your head nestled on Daniel’s shoulder. A bitter bile rose in my throat as jealousy, a venomous serpent, slithered through my veins.
“Oh, you’re up already,” Daniel said.
“Yeah, I got up early. I have to prepare my things. I’m heading to Marlboro Hills later.”
“It’s beautiful there, Jeff. You’ll enjoy taking pictures. Sorry for the trouble we caused last night.”
“That’s okay, Daniel.”
“By the way, I’ll go ahead. I need to tend to our vegetable garden.”
“Oh, I see. Alright, take care, brother.”
“I’m the only one going. Camille will stay here for now. I’ll pick her up this afternoon.”
I opened the gate for your husband. After he left, I went back to the terrace. As I got closer to where you were sitting, you stood up. Your sudden rise was a silent declaration of war. Your hands, once soft, connected with my face twice with a stinging force. The world tilted, and I was suspended in a bubble of disbelief for a brief, disorienting moment.
“Why?” I asked, glancing inside the house to ensure no one saw what you did.
“Why? You don’t know why? What you did to me was far worse than these slaps.”
I managed to block your next slap.
“Stop it, Camille… stop it. Please forgive me.”
“Goddamn you, Jeff. Why did you do this to me? You pushed me in deeper instead of pulling me out of the quicksand I fell into.”
I shook my head.
“What’s your answer to my question last night? Didn’t you enjoy being with me? I’m asking you, not Daniel. What’s your answer?”
You started to cry. I gently guided you to sit down.
“Camille… let me explain.”
“I don’t need your explanation. It’s you I need. We can still leave. Later today… or even tomorrow… whenever you want.”
“Sorry, Camille… we can’t do that.”
“Why not? Why?”
I shook my head as I looked at you. You kicked me in the leg.
“Get away from me.”
I retreated to the far end of the terrace, your sobs a mournful symphony that echoed in the still morning air. The weight of your anger pressed down on me, a crushing burden. I wanted to explain, to unravel the tangled mess of our lives, but words seemed inadequate. Your pain was tangible, a physical presence between us.
After a few moments, Elena came out of the room. She saw us on the terrace.
“Good morning, Ate Camille.”
You just smiled in response.
“Why do you look like you’ve been crying, Ate?”
“It’s nothing, I just remembered what happened yesterday.”
“Ah, I thought Jeff was making you cry,” Elena laughed. I knew my fiancée was just joking. You looked at me before smiling at Elena in response to what she said.
Then, Elena came over to me and kissed me on the cheek. You bowed your head, just like I did when you kissed Daniel. It seemed like you didn’t want to see Elena kiss me. Maybe it was jealousy, too.
“Your cheek looks red, Dad. What happened there?”
“Nothing… I just scratched it earlier. That’s why it’s red,” I said, trying to divert your attention by asking, “Is your mom still asleep?”
“Let’s just let her rest so she can get better soon.”
Elena took a sip of my coffee. “Oh… by the way, Ate Camille, I have good news for you.”
“Ha!? What is it?”
“Dad, why don’t you tell Ate Camille?”
“Oh. Why me?”
“Please, Dad… pleeeassseee!”
Reluctantly, I granted Elena’s request. “Camille… El… Elena is pregnant. Six weeks now.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Ate Camille.”
“Wow… well, congratulations to both of you. You’re going to be parents.”
You smiled as you said that. Your forced smile was a mask concealing a tempest of emotions. I saw the flicker of defeat in your eyes, starkly contrasting the joy she was feigning. Your arm, once resting confidently on the chair, now hung limply, a silent confession of her despair. It was a tableau of pain, a silent plea for solace.
“Thank you. Of course, we’ll ask you to be the godmother… right, Dad?”
I nodded. “Ah… sure… sure. Why not.”
When you said that, it seemed like you wanted to burst into tears, especially when Elena lifted her shirt like a child and placed my hand on her belly.
“Hold on, I’ll go inside and lie down again. I have a headache.”
“Oh… that’s a hangover, Camille. Alright, rest well. I’ll go cook breakfast now.”
You and Elena went inside the house together. It was a silent exodus that left me alone with my thoughts. Elena disappeared into the kitchen while you collapsed onto the sofa, your back turned to me. You seemed to be a fortress of solitude, shielding your vulnerability from my probing gaze. I couldn’t decipher the storm within you—sorrow, anger, or a mix of both.
**********
After that day, you and Daniel only visited the house once a week, usually on a Sunday. It was obvious you were avoiding me whenever you were at the house. Those Sundays became a ritual of avoidance, a carefully choreographed dance around the elephant in the room. Not once did we have a conversation alone. But that’s probably for the best because I didn’t want to give Elena any more reason to doubt us—if she had any doubts at all.
Aside from no families being broken, one positive outcome of my not showing up at our meeting that day is the changes I’ve seen in your husband. Your mother-in-law, who will also be my mother-in-law, says Daniel is completely different now. Once trapped in a shadowy world, Daniel now radiated a newfound sense of purpose. If what she says is true, he hasn’t touched alcohol since the day we were supposed to leave Elena and him. And maybe if what I saw in his clutch bag back then was drugs, perhaps he has quit that too.
The following month and a few days had good weather. There were no heavy rains, just occasional light drizzles that didn’t last long. Because of this, Elena and I could visit the places I wanted to go to for the pictures and videos I needed. Taking care of Elena and my travel vlog kept me busy during those days.
We chose the following week as the schedule for our civil wedding because we would be returning to Pasig the week after that. Elena was three months pregnant by then. Only my father, mother, and one sibling would attend because it would just be a simple wedding. I promised Elena that the grand wedding would be after she gave birth.
The rooster’s crow was a rusty blade scraping against my conscience. Sleep had been a stranger the entire night, replaced by a relentless loop of “Camille or Elena?” Shame burned in my throat as I glanced at the clock – almost nine. Elena, bless her heart, had taken the other room to care for her sick mother.Stepping onto the terrace, the cool mountain air slapped me awake. Elena and her mother were already there, their worried expressions deepening as they saw me.
“You had a good sleep, didn’t you, son? It’s almost nine o’clock,” said Elena’s mother.
“I walked quite a distance yesterday. They said I was almost at Marlboro Hills.”
“Ah… so, Dad, did you see Marlboro Hills already?”
“Not really. I was running out of time, so I headed back to visit the mini rice terraces. Next time, I’ll go there.”
“I see. Dad, do you plan to go out today?”
“Huh? Uh… I’m not sure. We’ll see later.”
“Okay, wait for me before you leave. We’re just going to the clinic in town with mom. We’re leaving, just waiting for you to wake up.”
“We’ll leave you for now, Jeff.”
“Alright, take care.”
“I’ll buy some cooked dishes for our lunch later,” Elena said before they left.
Alone in the house, I paced like a caged animal. The weight of my choice pressed down on me, a suffocating burden. Elena, a future filled with comfort and familiarity. Camille, a passionate whirlwind that threatened to upend everything. I set a deadline for myself – a decision by lunch.
It was almost noon when Elena and her mother returned. Fortunately, I had already cooked some rice. I helped Elena prepare the food on the table.
“Jeff, Elena has a surprise for you later.”
“A surprise Mom? What is it?”
“It’s a surprise, after all. Elena will tell you herself.”
Elena just smiled when she looked at me. I thought maybe she bought something for me in town.
Once the table was set, we started eating. At that moment, I wondered if you were already at the hut. I thought about what would happen if I decided to go with you and leave Sagada. My thoughts were interrupted when Elena tried to feed me some food.
Then, her mother spoke.
“Elena, give Jeff your surprise now.”
“Oh, right.”
“What is it, Mommy?”
“Hold on… you’re too excited.”
Elena stood up and grabbed her shoulder bag. She took something out and handed it to me.
IThe pregnancy test felt like a live grenade in my hand. Positive. Those two red lines burned into my retinas. Relief warred with terror in my chest as I saw Elena’s radiant smile. Elena was pregnant. I couldn’t speak right away.
“Oh, it looks like you’re not excited, Dad.”
Once I collected myself, I squeezed Elena’s hand, a silent apology tangled with a burgeoning sense of responsibility. The turmoil within me remained a locked box, but for now, this child was my anchor. Maybe, I thought with a sliver of hope, the universe had intervened, a divine hand steering me away from a path of destruction.
“I was just surprised, Mommy. But you don’t know how happy I am. I’m going to be a father.”
“… and I’m finally going to be a grandmother. I want you to get married at the courthouse as soon as possible. Just a simple celebration. I don’t want people here to see my daughter pregnant without knowing you got married.”
“Yes, Mom. I’ll call my parents later, and Elena and I will tell them our plans.”
Elena was thrilled with what she heard. I caressed her cheek, and she kissed my hand.
“Oh… finish your meal quickly, Dad. You have plans.”
“Huh… I don’t feel like going out anymore. I’d rather stay here by your side.”
“Aww, my Dad suddenly became sweet. Just yesterday, you were so grumpy.”
I still thought of you amid those conversations. You are the reason I could leave Elena, but now I’ve found a reason not to choose you – Elena’s bearing my first child. I don’t need to think any further, and maybe when you learn why I didn’t meet you at our rendezvous, you’ll understand.
Perhaps I can say that the Lord answered my prayer. Let’s just say that the Lord foresaw the future and knew I would be in this situation, so He granted Elena a child to prevent me from doing something foolish.
This doesn’t mean I now believe in fate… that destiny has wheels. The Lord gave us two gifts. The first is life, and the second is the freedom to make any decision we want. He doesn’t interfere with which path we take. I know that the sadness and failures we experience are not punishments from Him. Those are the results of our wrong decisions.
However, sometimes the Lord does favor those He cherishes. I’m not saying He favored me, but Elena. My fiancée is a very good person. I’m not saying you’re not a good person. I have no right to judge you because I am also not pleasing in the eyes of the Lord.
What’s frightening is karma. I feared that Daniel might be punished for the wrongs he did to you. I also feared we might be punished for the infidelities we committed and the wrong we intended to do. I just hope that since we didn’t go through with our plan, we won’t face retribution.
**********
That night, we were awakened by the continuous honking of a car. Elena and I came out of the room, as did her mother. We peered out the window.
“Mom, could you please open the gate?”
It was Daniel calling.
“Jeff, please open the gate,” her mother said.
I opened the gate. Daniel drove the car in, quickly got out, and opened the back door. You stepped out, almost stumbling, so your husband decided to carry you inside the house.
You were soaking wet, and if I’m not mistaken, you seemed drunk.
Daniel laid you on the sofa in the living room. Their mother quickly went into the bedroom, got a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and changed you out of your wet clothes. I turned away while they dressed you together.
“Why don’t you ever carry an umbrella when you know it’s the rainy season?” their mother said.
“What happened to Camille?” Elena asked.
“She left the house before noon, said she was going somewhere. She took her shoulder bag and a large plastic bag.”
“Wait, let me wipe her face with warm water,” Elena said.
Daniel continued his story.
“When it got dark and she hadn’t returned, I started looking for her. Someone mentioned that around three o’clock, she bought wine and beer at the store and seemed to head into the woods towards the mini rice terraces. I thought she might be at the hut, so I went there. That’s where I found her.”
I just listened to their conversation. There was nothing I could say. I felt so sorry for your condition. I wanted to blame myself. I hope you can forgive me, but I can’t leave Elena, I can’t abandon the child that soon we’re going to have.
“Her plastic bag was full of clothes. I think Camille was planning to leave me.”
We all fell silent for a moment.
“That’s why, Daniel, you need to think things over. Treat Camille better. She told us she wants to separate from you.”
“Yes, Mom. When I realized she was planning to leave me, I understood that I don’t want to lose her. I’ll try to save our marriage. I’ll try to change, Mom.”
As Elena wiped your face with a cloth soaked in warm water, you suddenly opened your eyes. Our gazes met.
“I thought you loved me. But you didn’t. You just led me on.”
I was shocked when you said that. Elena looked at me, confused.
“Weren’t you satisfied with the way I f—– you? Wasn’t it good enough for you?”
Your words hung heavy in the air, a scathing indictment of my betrayal. Elena’s gaze darted between us, the first crack appearing in the facade of her happiness. It was a confused look, but the seed of doubt was sown.
“Ca… Camille… It’s Jeff… I’m not Daniel.”
“Ha!? Is that so?” you said.
Then you started laughing uncontrollably.
“So, you’re Jeff… not Daniel. Well, sorry then.”
“Oh, it looks like Camille is delirious,” said Elena’s mother.
“Yes, it seems so. She probably mistook Jeff for me,” said your husband.
Relief washed over me as you drifted off to sleep, a temporary truce declared. But Elena’s furrowed brow, a silent storm brewing, sent a fresh wave of unease crashing over me. The weight of my choices, for better or worse, had settled in. The consequences, like a gathering storm, loomed on the horizon.
That’s obviously a Latin phrase. In English, it means “Remember you must die.”
We all have different mindsets about death. Some people fear the thought of one day dying, while others acknowledge the fact that it is something inevitable. Whether we like it or not, there will come a day when finally we will breathe our last. We’ll never know when it will be. Remember that death will come like a thief in the night.
“Memento Mori” seems to be the theme of my past 4 weeks. After celebrating my birthday on June 13th, the news of my Mom’s death greeted me the following day. It made me feel like my Mom died after giving birth to me. That day and the next were perhaps the busiest days of my life. I got overwhelmed by mixed emotions and had to accomplish many things before I could fly home. I had to prepare many things. Imagine this – It was the last day of the final exams for my students in South Korea, and the following day, I had to come home to the Philippines for my Mom’s funeral rites.
Needless to say, seeing my Mom go is painful. But I had to choose between dying in sadness for losing her or wrestling with sorrow seeing her suffer every day in that vegetative state – she could not move, could not talk, could barely open her eyes, and had to be fed through a nasogastric tube.
We had the remains of my Mom cremated. She wanted it that way. Her ashes are being kept by my sister while I am still having a mausoleum built in a memorial lot I bought. Construction started on July 1st. The flooring and the walls had to be finished by next week to commemorate my Mom’s 40th day on the 24th of July. That day, we will have her ashes rest in that mausoleum. In the future, I will have the remains of my father and elder brother, currently resting at a cemetery in Batangas, exhumed and transferred to the said mausoleum.
One day, while monitoring the mausoleum’s construction, I saw a coffin pulled out from a tomb in a nearby memorial lot. It was already open, and I saw the skeleton of the dead person. While my companions would not even dare look at the coffin, I went near it to see clearly what was inside. I saw the skull and other parts of the skeletal remains not covered by the dead’s clothes. The lower jaw was already detached from the head.
I happen to know the person who pulled the casket from the vault. He told me that the daughter of that dead person died and would be entombed there. I presumed that the coffin would be thrown away and the skeletal remains would be placed somewhere else.
I saw how that man removed the dress, the shoes, and the underwear from the skeletal remains. I don’t know if it is proper to describe it this way… “undressed the skeletal remains.” I also saw the condition of the casket. It looked expensive when it was new but useless after a few years inside the crypt. Only the metal parts would probably still be of use.
Then I saw how the man gingerly put the skeletal remains inside a sack. Poor sack used to serve as a container for one of the staples of life—rice. That day, it became a repository for skeletons. After that, I saw the sack of (not rice) skeletal remains being placed in a smaller vault called a bone box.
What I witnessed that day — the state of the skeletal remains and the coffin — strengthened my belief that Filipinos need to embrace the cremation of our dead.
The day after my Mom’s final funeral rites, a brother-in-law died. That week was somehow heartbreaking. I had to attend funeral rituals again. A few minutes after his death, I went to his house and saw him lying lifeless in a reclining chair. One of our neighbors seated next to me discussed how fragile life is… that no matter how famous, rich, and powerful people are, they all succumb to death. To that, I added that what is ironic is that we can not bring to our graves the diplomas we received, the money we earned, the cars, houses, jewelry, and whatever other things we bought.
Unlike what we did to my Mom’s remains, my brother-in-law’s family did not have his body cremated. My family is one of the very few Filipino families that welcome cremation. It will still take time for Filipinos to accept the fact that it is more practical and convenient to have the remains of our beloved cremated.
“By the sweat of your brow, you will eat your food until you return to the ground since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return (Genesis 3:19).”
M.A.D. LIGAYA
M.A.D. L I G A Y A 