Nov. 1, All Saints’ Day. I remember, when I worked in advertising, there were two holidays you could not expect people to work — All Saint’s Day and Good Friday, a statement to the religiosity of our culture. Everyone had to go to the cemetery to visit their deceased ancestors on Nov.1. On Good Friday, everyone had to do penitence for the death of Jesus Christ. You could make them work on Christmas, Jesus’ birthday, and New Year, his circumcision day, but never on these two days.
In my branch of the family we had no cemetery habits. We lost our men at the end of World War II. On the eve of liberation they were all shot at the Masonic Temple in Paco. We never got their bodies back. They all just disappeared so we had no cemetery to go to to pay tribute for 22 years of my life. Then my grandmother died. We visited for a while until our lives got the better of us. We were abroad for many years. Then I had them all cremated and transferred to my garden. Then finally I brought them all to Magallanes Church’s quiet grounds. They are all together now — my mother, grandmother, granduncle and grandaunt, my other surrogate parents. I brought them flowers last Nov. 2, All Souls’ Day. Suddenly as I grow older, I am interested in paying tribute to our dead.
On Nov. 1, 1985, my British stepfather, Maxwell M. Donovan, passed away from his first heart attack. He donated his body to medical science and therefore he has no tomb. At dawn of the same day this year, Antonio Salac Santos, once my most creative creative director, passed away. He departed dramatically, collapsed at lunch, went into a coma for long hours, then passed away at dawn, before the sun rose. I will visit him later. I know in my heart he went in peace.
Nov. 1 is the start of the holiday season, though ironically it begins with a celebration of death. Then it crawls over Thanksgiving (for Americans and those who have some form of American experience), into Christmas, then New Year. Then it pauses for about a month-and-a-half before it crawls again into the minor holidays — Valentine’s Day, graduation and Easter. There seems to be no other holiday as major as Christmas, when the world celebrates the birthday of Jesus Christ. Prior to that it was rumored to be a feast of nature, the celebration of the winter solstice. But at this late date, who cares? All I know is it is the one time of the year when you give gifts to say thank you for being my relative, friend, lover, whatever.
What will I give away as Christmas gifts? This year I am finding myself more imaginative than in the recent past, thinking of giving away baskets, which I will call Mon Petit Dejeuner, French for my breakfast. Just being maarte, forgive me. In it I will put delicious tuyo from Carmel Dael, who used to be my neighbor in White Plains and my writing student; coffee from Lorie Reyes, who used to work with me in Coca-Cola Bottlers Philippines Inc.; burong mangga, a delicious mango relish prepared by Bing Obieta Gatchalian, and other little things that I will shop for at two bazaars that are at the top of my list.
The first is the American Women’s Bazaar on Monday, Nov. 7, where I will go with a lot of cash to buy myself the Christmas gift I have been wanting for many years now. It is a knitted necklace with charms made by the mother of a very charming American lady, Kathy, whose last name I don’t know. I have written about my admiration of the stuff she sells and this year I have saved enough money for it. I will buy one for myself.
The second is to go to Greenhills Shopping Center where the St. Luke’s Medical Center will be holding its annual pre-Christmas bazaar on the weekend of Nov. 12 to 13, anytime from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. This is being organized by the 103-year-old Women’s Board of the 108-year old hospital and shopping there means you are helping raise funds for the poorest of the poor among patients of St. Luke’s in their diagnostic treatments, implants and vaccinations. That, for me, is a good enough reason to go. Also to add to your motives for going, there will be raffles every hour, giving away cash prizes, gift certificates and appliances.
In my old age, I have realized that to motivate me into celebrating a holiday, I must include myself in my gift list. I have no husband, boyfriend or lover who will buy anything for me. So I buy it myself. That makes me feel guilty enough for overindulging myself that I will spend more buying presents for my family and friends. That to me represents the irony of the holidays. First, it’s b-a-a-a-d, said the way my grandsons say it, meaning it’s very good, then it turns good, the way my generation means it — giving pleasant, gracious, charming gifts.
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In case you want to use some of my sources here are their phone numbers. Carmel Dael for wonderful food, 0917-8008865; Lorie Reyes for wonderful coffee, 0921-3339267; Bing Gatchalian for delicious burong manga, 0917-8588812. Send your comments to me at 0917-8155570.