February is a special month for most of us because we consider it as the month of love and for lovers. But for me it is more special because of two significant events in my family and in our country commemorated one day apart although they happened 46 years away from each other.
The first event which my family celebrated yesterday marked the 72nd birth day of a sweet and gentle but strong lady who is now my companion for life. Josefina is her name which is the female counterpart of my own name explaining why we indeed complete and complement each other in our married life.
Since we got married more than 48 years ago, we have sailed the conjugal ship through calm and stormy seas and manage to reach safely back to shore. Like all marital unions, ours is also pockmarked with rocky episodes yet it has remained solid and still growing stronger. Each day seems to be getting warmer and more romantic especially as we approach the sunset of our lives. Never is there a dull moment between us even if our children are no longer staying with us because she keeps our channels of communication always open thus enabling us to empathize with one another’s feelings and to listen not only to the words coming out of our lips but also to the unspoken messages deep within our hearts. In other words we constantly dialogue rather than discuss and argue with each other.
The occasional turmoil and instability in our relationship is admittedly due more to my own weaknesses and vulnerabilities than to hers. Yet she has not given up on me even if our marriage sometimes seems to fall apart due to my fault. Indeed she has assumed a greater role in cementing our marital relationship with her strong and unwavering faith in God and in me despite my many shortcomings and follies. In times of crises and stormy events in our marriage and family life she appears to be stronger and braver because she displays more maturity, decisiveness and courage. She has really proven wrong the oft repeated claim that woman is the weaker sex.
Our partnership has lasted and will definitely last till death do us part because she is my constant companion and steady support in fostering a healthy and strong family life, in promoting an active social life, in having a fruitful professional life and most importantly, in developing a deep and devout spiritual life.
Thus we enjoyed our life together with our children and helped each other in rearing all six of them into becoming responsible adults and later on having families of their own except our only daughter Joyce who decided to embrace religious life and who has already been called by God to be with Him in eternal bliss after just 38 years of sojourn on this earth. Indeed we could feel that Joyce is now praying for us and for her five brothers and their families specifically: Jopet and Cef and sons Jat, Jigo and Javi; Joel and Ruby and sons, Joachim, Johannes and Josema; Jay and Mireille and sons Jeremy, Java, Jared, Jacob, Jonah and Jaydan; Jolly and Jane and their daughters, Jamee and Jessica, and son Justin; Jaybee and Susan and their only son Joaqui. When we have family gatherings at the house during weekends, Josie enjoys the company of our grandchildren not as a baby sitter but as a teacher who inculcates in them her artistic talents in music and dancing.
Our family togetherness reached new heights during another momentous event that happened in our country 26 years ago. It was in the evening of February 22, 1986 when Josie, I, and our five boys who were then already in their teens and early twenties found ourselves weaving in and out of a crowd growing bigger and bigger every minute at the Camp Aguinaldo gate in Santolan Avenue. We were rouse out of the safety of our home and into the streets because of an inexplicable feeling deep in our hearts that we should be part of the massive gathering of “human cooperators” to the happening of an event of “supernatural proportions” that would topple a ruthless and corrupt regime through non-violence and without bloodshed.
It was indeed a glorious moment of family togetherness and solidarity in the midst of lurking danger and crippling uncertainty. But our boys seem to be more fearless obviously because they have not been exposed to some form of danger yet. And this was the cause of much worry for Josie and me especially when the boys went out the following night to be with their school groups. The only way to lessen our anxiety was to be with them and monitor their every movement. So the next night we pitched a tent right on the highway island near the corner of White Plains Ave. and Gate 4 of Camp Aguinaldo. This became our family “camp” where we spend the rest of the nights of the revolution that was turning out to be more and more festive than combative. In just two days spent in the “camp” our family experienced the feelings of oneness and guarded joy as the situation remained risky and uncertain. These are the same feelings that permeated the teeming millions of people from all walks of life who occupied the length and breadth of EDSA from Santolan to Ortigas to Shaw Blvd until the dictator was forced to leave the country. This was on the eve of Josie’s 46th birthday when we had a party at EDSA.
EDSA therefore has no particular individual as hero. Its heroes are the millions of Filipinos who became the human instruments of the unseen Power that orchestrated the events and engineered the fall of a rapacious regime. Unfortunately after 26 years, the revolution is not yet over because of ambition, greed, selfishness, political bickering of our leaders and the tide of corruption that has not receded. This only means therefore that constant prayer fervently imploring the aid of the Divine Providence is really needed at all times.
E-mail us at jcson@pldtdsl.net.