Hector and Mercy defied conventions love is always there despite the age gap.
By the time they turn 55, most ’64 classmates see themselves grandparents being entertained by the acrobatics and genuises of their doting grandchildren. Not so for Hector Andallo who, marrying at age 35 to a lovely co-teacher, aged 24, finds himself too young still to be called “Lolo”.
Already with 33 years of government service to his credit, Hector finds teaching at the Jala Jala Elementary School like a soul mate. Every morning, he and his wife would walk their way to school and come back in the late afternoon after classes, like an inseparable twosome. Sith two of their three kids already in college while the youngest still in high school, the couple finds their lives entering a ‘second wind,’ much similar to the bygone days when they were still love-struck sweethearts mooning over their theme song “Let Me Take You Far Away…” by the Bee Gees.
Late marriage has its own advantages. Careerwise, you feel fulfilled, no longer running on edge to impress your superiors and, for all that married life may demand, wise in the ways of the world. Hector knew it well. It was this edge in experience and teaching skills that earned him a stable and happy family, made even stronger by the simple dreams and uncomplicated lifestyle that he shares with his young adoring wife. Their first meeting was uneventful and it would be sheer folly to imagine that their paths would someday cross and merge into a lifetime commitment. Mercy was in grade four when Hector was already attending district-demo, a requirement for his BSEED course. Of what good was his handsome looks then to a ten-year old child?
As fate would have it, Mercy fell in love with teaching, too, and chose that Hector took. Already in full bloom, someone predicted that she will marry an older guy, a prophecy that didn’t sound prophetic at the time, judged by her numerous, equally young admirers that worried her parents no end. Hector himself didn’t foresee it. As one of the most eligible bachelors in the teaching staff of the Jala jala Elementary School, he had his hands ‘full’ with ‘activities” beside his teaching loads. Like a true, like a true Valentino, commitment was farthest in his mind. Until Mercy, with her impressive credential and winsome smile, came along.
The principal introduced them to each other. She was Hector’s auntie, but the relation they shared was nothing compared to the feeling that gripped him upon seeing the striking, novice teacher politely smiling, though seemingly uninterested. His question, “committed na ba si Mercy…? sounded a joke, but deep inside he felt differently, much unlike the sensation that normally ignited his interests with other girls. Wasting no time, he located her house in Pililia, like opening his ‘cards” too prematurely. A music teacher, Hector would sing, at Mercy’s hearing distance, the current Hagibis’ song highlighting they lyrics,” …ded na ded ak sa ‘yo…” His antics pestered her, made even worse by the fact that they shared adjacent rooms and, summoning her courage, she complained.
Hector was transferred to another room, on the upper floor, but holes that abound government buildings, made him only a ‘peeping Tom’. The habit of knocking three times at the door, then surprising her with laughing eyes, disoriented her. On occasions, painted hollow blocks on her room would sprout with ribbons, igniting endless teasings from her co-teachers and, not infrequently, young students. Such open display made her blush which, at times, turned to tears, buy such was the ways of love, with a “love-hate” mixture that makes the bond all the more enduring. Over time she began to understand the reason behind those playful ‘mischiefs’ and, gradually, its lifetime promise. She looked at his eyes and saw, not his age, but his life-long pledge that truly mattered.
And love bloomed, even before he could sever his ties with ‘other women’ something which he did on his own, causing ‘heartbreaks’ like the sparks of a bottle that had to be struck to release the perfume. Indeed, there is something providential in the birth of a love that defies conventions. Leigh Hunt said it best” “Love is sweetest when it is embalmed in tears…”
Hector Andallo and Marcella ‘Mercy’ Masinsin tied the knots in the early morning of March 6, 1981. On this same day, in the late afternoon, Mercy’s other sister, likewise, got married, a double wedding in the family that caused confusion, rather a pleasant one, among the elders. Propitous or not, Hector’s ‘other girls’ themselves got married, too, almost simultaneously. Marriage, it seemed, because a fad that made the country proud.
Their happy marriage produced two girls and one boy. The eldest, Ronalyn, was born on March 17 1982, who took up BS Psychology at the Philippine Normal University. The second child and only boy, Filliph Andrew, whose birth date falls on April 28, 1984, took up Electrical Engineering course at the Universal Rizal System. Their youngest Hersie was born on August 16, 1988. Their two-story house is located on a 300 sq meter corner lot in Jala Jala given to Hector as a legacy from his parents.
Our interview ended on a happy note. Finishing at high noon, Enchong and I were treated to a lunch by the happy couple who both sounded apologetic for not having prepared something grander for our visit. They didn’t know that we felt doubly repaid for the warm reception showered us, even for such surprising call. The relaxing drive home on that windy December morning gave me a reason to think about how unreliable guide traditions are in the matter of marriage. The yawning gap in their age is not a hindrance, but a plus factor. Mercy’s joy proves it. Hector knew it well. When you have more experience of the world, you’ll find compassion isa better healer of wounds than self-righteousness.
NOTE: Genesis is the introduction of the book “FOOTPRINTS, Class ’64” written by Atty. Amadeo R. Fulgado, published in 2005.
