He barely talked. It was as if a lingering, inward pain washed over his every word. A child, barely 6 years old, cried from a distance, and is distracted or simply reminded of his own, he looked at me with a rueful smile and blurted out, “kasing-edad ng bunso ko…!” I was 54 with my youngest already reaching 20 and, comparably, married late, or so I thought. Eddie was two years older and the puzzled look on my face was met by a long stare at the half-filled glass of Coke he was holding. The silence was contagious and I pretended to gloss over my other notes, in feigned respect to the mood that he seemed to dictate.
“Maaga akong nag-asawa, May 15 1968. Taga Niogan, Pililia sya. Wala kaming naging anak. Mayruon kaming inampon, pamangkin ng misis ko. “Kinder” na iyong bata nuong magpunta ako sa Saudi kung saan nagtrabaho ako bilang Millwright Pipe fitter sa loob ng tatlong taon. Nuon nagyari iyon…”
He assumed that I knew but the look on my face betrayed his assumption and he continued. “Masakit, classmate…aywan ko kung dapat mong isulat. Sa Saudi ko pa nalaman.” He returned to the country after his three-year contract and the confrontation led to her admission. He tried to save the marriage but, seemingly for her, once is not enough, and their 3-year attempts at reconciliation failed. They separated and led their own lives. Fate, however, did not allow him to nurse his bruised feelings too long. Rage turned into pity when he learned that his first wife died of cancer of the cervix a few years following their separation.
Love knocked the second time around when she met Adelfa Manalon who, like him, was separated but with two (2) kids. She hailed from Barac, Quisao, in Pililia, Rizal, and their wounded hearts found a common wellspring of hope as, together, they weaved new dreams detached from the insecurities borne of unrestrained passions of impetuous youths.
The year was 1990. Children of their own followed, six (6) in all, three of whom died in infancy. Of the living, Edlyn, nine, is the eldest, born April 23, 1993. Edward is seven and saw the light of day on August 21, 1995. Their youngest, Edith, is only six years old, coming to the world only last January 8, 1996. With innocent kids running wild and giggling like little cherubim’s in their repaired house in Quisao, Eddi and Adelfa knew that their union promises the best that a ‘second life’ could offer. Hard as living appears to them at present, both felt assured that the future beckons a new horizon, a bit different and happier than the bitter past they longingly struggle to leave behind.
Eddie is the eldest of two children, his parents being both natives of Quisao. Like his father, he enjoyed work with machines and he enrolled for a one-year Mechanic course in Samson Tech. His grandfather was proficient in the repairs of typewriters with a shop of his own and, for two years, he stayed with his Lolo until he found work at Fikon Knitting Factory in Pasig where he stayed for 5 years as a Machine Operator. From there, he worked as Inspector of Solid Transit for a one-year period, following which, he accepted work as a Security Guard at the Philippine Petroleum Corporation in Malaya. After only two years, his natural love for machines brought him to Eccoi Asia where he worked as Millwright for two years. He transferred to Hydro Resources using the same skill and after only two years, he applied and qualified for an overseas job as Millwright Pipe fitter in a Desalination Plant in Jubilee, Saudi Arabia. His stint lasted for three years.
The lure of big bucks in a foreign land has lost its appeal on Eddie. He has decided to stay, no matter how elusive luck may turn out in his native land. With his savings, he bought a passenger jeep, only to sell it after three years seeing its maintenance costs exceed its targeted income. He bought a power saw and, for a time, luxuriated in its blessings. One such blessing was meeting Adelfa who changed the course of his life. Firm in his resolve to be easy beck and call of his new family, he put up his own shop for a steel and iron works in Quisao, a business that, small as it is, assures him and his young family, of a respectable income.
The end of the interview left us both laughing. Eddie noticeably didn’t look as gloomy and forlorn as when we first started. Somehow, the narration of his past released him from its annoying hold. The present, no doubt, has an ever-better appeal, manageable and, like a budding plant, promising. The future, of course, is beyond our grasp, providing us no window to peep into and this is where faith comes. In here, there is no exception. The future is a great equalizer. It is beholden to no one. Rich or poor; with a bitter background or a glorious past, the future respects no one. Eddie, I guess, realized this as he sounded relieved, perhaps knowing that while he cannot change his past, he can, with abiding faith, mold his own future and, with overriding zeal, that of his children.
Like Eddie, I too, felt relieved at the end of what, I wrongly guessed, was a tear-jerker of an interview. On the way home with Lito, I pulled down the car’s glass windows savoring the invigorating cold winds that washed away the day’s burden. It was already dusk but I felt the dawn of a new realization: that life, no matter how badly or beautifully you make of it, ends always in faith, in forever hoping that tomorrow’s promise will be a notch higher than yesterday’s struggle. We live everyday with that faith. It is ironic that we welcome it with fear though we rejoice a bit enthusiastically, on its coming. The theme song of the film “Titanic” couldn’t be more fitting since, true enough, despite our fears, “My (our) heart must go on…!”
NOTE: “Love…the second time around!” is part of the book “FOOTPRINTS, Class ’64” written by Atty. Amadeo R. Fulgado, published in 2005.
