Miami, FL – We are practically almost half a generation apart. We grew up in different worlds not because of choice but more because of fate. I remember I was about five years old when Rachel Elias Reganon, my cousin, came to our humble home in Ligtasan, Tarlac in Tarlac province, in a basket crib of sorts, with her mom and my eldest aunt, Magdalena “Tita Dennie or Magda” Elias
We grew up in our own separate ways but at least we had one thing in common. In a nation with a penchant for two-syllabic names such as Tingting, Ningning, Dingdong, Rachel and I, as in other Filipino families (especially in the 70s) had to have our own respective names too in that fashion: Leng- Leng and TonTon.
Time fleeted; I was blessed to have good jobs that allowed me to strut almost all over the globe, she was and is still blessed to have adorable and smart kids back home. Everything seems normal in our lives so that I rationalized, our worlds are really apart, it is fine to see and talk to each other, say, every decade or so? I just realized lately – and regrettably too – I was dead wrong.
It is said that when man is on the brink of crisis only then he evolves. I must admit, when I heard of the very bad news she is stricken with breast cancer, I was shocked, human as I am. I will not entertain hypocrisy as to say I broke down in tears as I did not. Not to be rude, we weren’t really close although almost since I left the Philippines over 15 years ago when I was 21, she and her family more often than not, especially when I left for the US, lived with my mom Fe and sister Mai. To that, I am grateful.
In a country too where machismo rules, it is almost a mortal sin to express emotions. Every true-blooded Pinoy will agree with me that men watching soap operas is a laughing matter, if not downright silly. Besides, the soaps of my time, Flor de Luna and Anna Liza, dragged on to no end, no one knows how they climaxed. So I guess there is that propensity to translate that attitude in real life. When I heard of cousin Leng’s situation late last year, I was sad, human as I am. Talking occasionally about her situation with my mom, sister Mai and her older sister, cousin Maricel, also from Florida, I have been projecting a strong character as expected of me always, suggesting plans even only sometimes on her recuperation and post-recuperation. Never did I break down in tears. Until last weekend, I cried a river.
Using a cheap international phone card, I called her to say what’s up. The first few seconds were cordial until I sensed her unbearable pain which she strongly expressed, culminated with pleas for me and our Ate Cel to go home before it is all too late. Then it hit me how life indeed is short, not because one can be sick but really, real life is not like Flor de Luna that it stretches to eternity.
Seriously, Leng, I never was trained to respond in situations like this. I will not pretend to be religious and say God is on your side. Needless to say, when I heard from you that you wanted nothing but to see us and wanted nothing more in worldly things, I broke down, and I am not ashamed to say it, even till noon the next day.
It is simply the thought of just being away from family all these years that struck me the most. And the possibility of losing one member does not help lessen the aggravation. I have always believed I am a strong person but when an actual drama resonates and is closer to home, it strikes the marrow of your soul. I have realized, I am 37 and have spent almost half of that away from mom, sister Mai, and the rest of my family. That is obviously the pain attached to emigration. The cost of wanting to give a better life to the ones you love and in the end questioning whether it is all worth it indeed.
Let me share with you Leng, a few lines from my favorite poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley:
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.
It also says somewhere “From dust thou art, to dust returneth, was not spoken of the soul.”
Cousin Leng dear, be strong, hang in there, with your husband Jack and kids Joshua, Jayjay, Jayvi and Jamjam (ages 12, 7, 5 and 2), you can prevail. Stage 3 your breast cancer maybe, but believe in the slogan, “you have cancer, but cancer does not have you.”
Best of all, better than the words in Invictus, I, we all love you.
We grew up in our own separate ways but at least we had one thing in common. In a nation with a penchant for two-syllabic names such as Tingting, Ningning, Dingdong, Rachel and I, as in other Filipino families (especially in the 70s) had to have our own respective names too in that fashion: Leng- Leng and TonTon.
Time fleeted; I was blessed to have good jobs that allowed me to strut almost all over the globe, she was and is still blessed to have adorable and smart kids back home. Everything seems normal in our lives so that I rationalized, our worlds are really apart, it is fine to see and talk to each other, say, every decade or so? I just realized lately – and regrettably too – I was dead wrong.
It is said that when man is on the brink of crisis only then he evolves. I must admit, when I heard of the very bad news she is stricken with breast cancer, I was shocked, human as I am. I will not entertain hypocrisy as to say I broke down in tears as I did not. Not to be rude, we weren’t really close although almost since I left the Philippines over 15 years ago when I was 21, she and her family more often than not, especially when I left for the US, lived with my mom Fe and sister Mai. To that, I am grateful.
In a country too where machismo rules, it is almost a mortal sin to express emotions. Every true-blooded Pinoy will agree with me that men watching soap operas is a laughing matter, if not downright silly. Besides, the soaps of my time, Flor de Luna and Anna Liza, dragged on to no end, no one knows how they climaxed. So I guess there is that propensity to translate that attitude in real life. When I heard of cousin Leng’s situation late last year, I was sad, human as I am. Talking occasionally about her situation with my mom, sister Mai and her older sister, cousin Maricel, also from Florida, I have been projecting a strong character as expected of me always, suggesting plans even only sometimes on her recuperation and post-recuperation. Never did I break down in tears. Until last weekend, I cried a river.
Using a cheap international phone card, I called her to say what’s up. The first few seconds were cordial until I sensed her unbearable pain which she strongly expressed, culminated with pleas for me and our Ate Cel to go home before it is all too late. Then it hit me how life indeed is short, not because one can be sick but really, real life is not like Flor de Luna that it stretches to eternity.
Seriously, Leng, I never was trained to respond in situations like this. I will not pretend to be religious and say God is on your side. Needless to say, when I heard from you that you wanted nothing but to see us and wanted nothing more in worldly things, I broke down, and I am not ashamed to say it, even till noon the next day.
It is simply the thought of just being away from family all these years that struck me the most. And the possibility of losing one member does not help lessen the aggravation. I have always believed I am a strong person but when an actual drama resonates and is closer to home, it strikes the marrow of your soul. I have realized, I am 37 and have spent almost half of that away from mom, sister Mai, and the rest of my family. That is obviously the pain attached to emigration. The cost of wanting to give a better life to the ones you love and in the end questioning whether it is all worth it indeed.
Let me share with you Leng, a few lines from my favorite poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley:
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.
It also says somewhere “From dust thou art, to dust returneth, was not spoken of the soul.”
Cousin Leng dear, be strong, hang in there, with your husband Jack and kids Joshua, Jayjay, Jayvi and Jamjam (ages 12, 7, 5 and 2), you can prevail. Stage 3 your breast cancer maybe, but believe in the slogan, “you have cancer, but cancer does not have you.”
Best of all, better than the words in Invictus, I, we all love you.
