A Child Version of Leonardo Da Vinci

When Gwen was still 4 years old, she was happy already if we gave her a bunch of crayons, coloring books, drawing papers, drawing books, sketch pads, pencils, water colors and anything she could use to draw and paint.

A Christmas to Remember

When I was still living in our remote sitio of Ruparan in Digos, celebrating a yuletide season was not that very lavish.  The people there are really living below poverty threshold level.  Just imagine a family of five for that matter earning only 120 pesos a day.  Usually what were prepared in our dining table were loaves of bread sandwiched with pancit and then partnered with a bottle of soft drinks.  

photo grabbed from bing images

If a family prepared some viands stuffed with meat already, they were considered rich in our place.

A Mama's Boy No More

I used to be a mama's boy.

When I was still in elementary years, it was my mother who accompanied me in every competition I had joined into.  Though it would take her to stay for the whole day, my mother never faltered to chaperon me.  In fact, she would never allow me to go an errand without her accompanying me. Most often than not, she would always stay beside me or within my reach.

I do not know the reason why my mother gave me that extra special attention. She did not allow me to do the house chores even the littlest ones.  She wanted that I would not get tired so that I would have all the energy and time to review my lessons. There was a time even when my younger brother questioned her why she gave me such attention. My mother would say that since I was the only one in the family who had the interest in studying, so I should be given much time to review or read my books than washing the dishes for instance.  Thus, if I would not like helping nor doing the household or any of the farm chores, I would just open my notebook or even flip a newspaper to have an excuse.

To become a lawyer was my mother's greatest dream for me.  However, when I enrolled at Mindanao State University in Marawi City in 1995, I never took any prelaw course because I was already in a sort of a rebellion.  I defied the wish of my mother.  I wanted to pursue at first an engineering course.  However, I was not able to qualify for the said course, thus, I ended up taking up Bachelor of Science in Forestry instead.  It was not because I loved to be a forester but I was just enticed with the numerous field trips it offered.

I knew that I was not meant to be a forester.  Despite this fact, I was able to graduate with honors, something for my mother to be proud of.  But still, my mother kept on insisting that I should proceed law.

After I passed the Forestry Licensure Examination, I was absorbed by my alma mater to be part of the teaching force.  While I was waiting for my chance to have a scholarship to proceed any Masteral Degree in Forestry, my fraternity brother told me to enrol even for some units in law school.  Considering that law school is relatively free in MSU, I enrolled and then tried my luck.

When my mother knew that I enrolled in law school, she was so happy.  As a matter of fact, she already bragged to her friends and relatives that someday she would be having a lawyer son even if at that time I was still on my first semester.

Unfortunately, my mother died when I was still in my third year.  I remember that it was during our final examinations when the very unfortunate news came to me.  I had to ask excuses from my law professors at that time for I needed to be home.

The supposedly taking-chances style of enrolling the law school became a serious matter upon the unexpected death of my mother.  Her death reminded me that I should make it and make her proud someday.

I am now a lawyer.  Had my mother still alive today, she would be the proudest mother in the world.  She would always, I believe, tell her all friends and relatives how proud she would be.

But she is no longer here.  I would not be able to see and feel how she would brag me to her friends.

My mother was the one who believed in my capacity.  My mother was the one who pushed me to pursue her dreams for me.  My mother was the one who guided me.

And now that she is dead, I am now living out of the cloak of my mother.  I could do anything I would in the absence of my mother's interference.  I am a mama's boy no more.  But to remain a mama's boy forever, I would be willing to bear that nametag for as long as I could see how proud my mother would be with I have become now.

My Uniquely-Extended Family

I was born and raised in a uniquely-extended family.  My father was a widower and my mother was a widow when they met each other.  My father has 9 children while my mother has 5.  As a matter of fact, they were neighbors in Pangyan, Glan, Sarangani Province (former a part of South Cotabato).  My father was a kumpadre of my mother's former husband.

Unfortunately, they lost each other spouse.  My father lost his wife when she labored their 9th child.  On the other hand, my mother's husband was presumed death after a storm wrecked the latter's fishing boat.

When my parents met, I and my brother are the latest addition in the family.

When I was still young, I was confused on what to call my elder brothers and sisters.  Sometimes, I called them MANONG/MANANG but I called them also as UNCLE/AUNTIE because I was not that very sure of our relationship. Most of the time, I would treat my nephews and nieces who are older than me as my brothers and sisters instead.  But anyway, what matters is we have lived in harmony.

Our family is literally a big family.  Though it is not uncommon in the Philippines to have this big family, but I guess to have this kind of family is rare.  It is unusual to have half brothers and sisters on both mother and father side.  Despite such status, that thing does not affect the way we treat each other.  In fact, my half siblings on either side, they treat each other as if real siblings already.

Out of the 16 siblings, I was the only one who was able to graduate in college.  Most of them were just high school graduates with two who were able to try college lives.  Despite their educational attainment,  I am proud that my brothers and sisters are not liabilities in our society.  In their own little ways, they have contributed to our country's development.

However, on October 1, 2004, my mother died.  Her early demise does not affect our relationship.  Our strings have strengthened even more.

With the death of my mother, my father is a widower again for the second time.  He is now hopping from one child to another.  He has no permanent address so to speak but he prefers to stay here in General Santos City.  At the age of 78, my father wears no glasses still.  In fact, he is the only one in his circle of friends who could text his cellphone without the aid of glasses or the assistance of another person.  My father has a lot of girlfriends already in his cellphone. It is seldom for my father's phone to be running out of load.  Almost every minute, his phone rings.

I hope that my father would enjoy his last years of his life here.  If to enjoy would spell another mother in our family, then we would gladly support it.  His happiness is our paramount concern after all.

Gwen's Firsts

Gwen took a pose before going to NDDU-IBED

Our Gwen's first day of school had a lot of firsts.  It was the first time for her to carry a big-pink-trolley bag that would fit 8 books and 9 notebooks.  It was also her first time to wear a trademark green-checkered uniform of Notre Dame of Dadiangas University - Integrated Basic Education Department (NDDU-IBED).  Likewise, it was her first to step the portals of NDDU-IBED.  And lastly, she stayed on her school unchaperoned.

A Tale of a Buck and a Singing Wall Clock

When my family moved in a remote barrio of Ruparan, Digos City, Davao del Sur last 1986, our first ever precious possession was a buck or a male goat. It was so dear and lovely. It was acting as if it was a dog because we did not have to pull its rope, it would just follow us wherever we may go. In fact, if it would sense that we were near already, this cute and acting-as-a-dog goat would scream to its heart content to get our attention. 

One day, there was a mobile merchant who came to our house to sell anything and that included his infamous singing wall clock. He enticed us by letting his wall clock sing at every hour. Considering that it was also our first time to see and hear such a marvelous wall clock, we were awed so much. However, the wall clock did not cost a penny. It costed a whooping P 600.00, at least that was according to the wise mobile merchant. 

Considering that we did not have the money to buy the singing wall clock, our parents could not do anything but declined.. When the mobile merchant was about to leave our house, coincidentally, my brother came and with him our goat followed. The mobile merchant's eyes were glued to our goat. He then returned to our house. He proposed to have a barter of his singing wall clock with that of our goat. At first, we said no. Our goat would cost more than his singing wall clock after all. But the merchant incessantly persuaded us and he too let his singing wall clock sing, our parents gave in then. Thus, we traded our goat to the singing wall clock. 

However after almost 2 months of singing, our wall clock did not sing anymore.