This one’s for you, Lolo Rudy

I like my bibingka extra special, with red eggs,
My coffee with whipped cream,
My steak with mushroom gravy sauce,
My baked potato with bacon and cheese.

I like the extras, the toppings and the add-ons, and who doesn’t? Well, maybe not everyone. My nephew Mark eats his pizza without the toppings, no veggies, no meat. Just the crust.

And that’s probably the greatest thing about children: they don’t have layers or masks. They stick out their tongues to get rid of something in their mouth. They say what they think, and they mean what they say, and they appreciate life in full color.

Lolo Rudy is 76 years old, but he loves me like pizza. Minus the add-ons, down to the crust.

I visited him last Sunday in the hospital before he had his angioplasty. There on his bed lay a copy of The Philippine STAR scattered into several sections. I wished he didn’t notice I didn’t have column that day. Of course he did. "You didn’t have a column today," he inquired with a hint of concern in his voice. I felt guilty although I had every reason not to be. He never demanded attention and was perennially grateful for the little time that I spent with him.

Visitors from Naga arrived, and he introduced me as his granddaughter. Later, when the visitors left, he explained that he didn’t want them to fuss over me. I understood what he meant, because he also preferred that I call and introduce him to friends as my lolo, not Fr. Rudy Fernandez, a Jesuit priest.

Labels or add-ons make people act in a peculiar way. They hear you’re a priest, and you’re treated like the Pope! Doctors and lawyers are asked to give their expert advice even beyond office hours. Politicians and media are approached for help. Either that or you’re awarded the red carpet. But between Fr. Rudy and I , we are simply lolo and apo to each other. And as such, we enjoy each other’s company.

Apo enjoys a quiet retreat from her work in Lolo’s small office at the Ateneo. Lolo smiles when apo lays her head on his shoulder. My dozing off was nothing new to him. He never minded. He can only give me time, he said, neither money nor gold.

I noticed this; too, in the way he treated the nurses in the hospital. The nurses worked in shifts but he wanted to know each one by name. There were several names to memorize. I teased him that he gave them special attention and pretended to feel bad about this. His explanation was simple: "This is the only time that I will see them, but you, I will see you again." He was right about seeing me again, though seldom. But he kept in touch through text messaging. Every day, I would receive daily reflections from him, one in the morning and another in the evening. It was his simple way of keeping in touch with people.

Though we hardly saw each other, he has always known that I’ve wanted to write about ordinary people and their extraordinary lives. I missed out last Sunday but this comeback is for you. To Lolo Rudy, who bears the wisdom of the years but sees life in constant wonder.

While I love steak, nothing beats good old isaw from UP, and a friend from Ateneo whom you can always come home to.

The story of Joe Natoli

Speaking of ordinary people. Catch the story of Joe Natoli in Nagmamahal, Kapamilya this coming Tuesday.

Adopted from the Philippines by an Australian couple, Joe grows up as a rebellious teenager, causing problems and headaches to his adoptive parents. A visit to the Philippines makes him realize that he needs to find his roots. With the help of his adoptive parents, Joe embarks on a journey in search for his real parents.