Dear Joanne,
Ten years ago, you featured in its entirety in your People column the eulogy I had offered for my wife Bunny during her necrological services.
A number of husbands suggested that I should help them write eulogies for their wives – all of whom were still alive. When I questioned their intent, the common retort was that they were just preparing for the eventuality. With this attitude of ghastly expectancy, I advised them that I would rather write eulogies for them and give these to their wives. Wives are surely more loving than husbands. No wife asked me for help in eulogizing their live mates.
May 20 will mark the 10th anniversary of Bunny’s passing. How time flies, indeed. Nevertheless I cannot forget that the first few years since she went were terribly depressing years for me. It took near-forever to reconcile that she was gone and missing her was devastating, to say the least. This sense of loss remains and time, the great healer, has not been able to bring about a surcease to my longing. Such is Life, I suppose, as such is Death.
But neither myself nor the kids ever felt grief for her, or sorrow for her passing because we were absolutely certain she had gone to where she would be happiest – in the cradle of the Lord and in the company of Mary – whom she loved and had ultimate faith in to her dying day. We were naturally sad but not sorrowful and despite still missing her utterly, we all remain clement in accepting that destiny is the final arbiter of our earthly passage and that God knows what He does far beyond our capacity to comprehend.
Life has, naturally, not been in the same for all of us since this wonderful, unique and beautiful woman is no longer among us. We all miss her absence exceedingly and calmly wait for the time when (hopefully, in my case) we will join her.
Dr. Ricky Soler
She weighed all of 94 pounds, wore a light, pale dress which silhouetted her figure and made her look like a vestal virgin. I was overwhelmed. I have remained overwhelmed with her all through these years. Even in her passing she overwhelms me.
The boy who introduced us was very much in love with her. Somehow, I feel he still is. But I stole her from him and as compensation made him my best friend for life and my best man at our wedding.
I married her quickly – putting in hazard everything that I had previously worked for and dreamed of: my medical education, my career, my future. You don’t get married during your second year in medical school especially not when you have to work as a starving freelance journalist to help you through the many costs of medical school. The stakes were certainly high but the prize was worthy of any challenge. And I took the dare and have never regretted that decision.
Bunny took the nickname I gave her seriously and like a true rabbit bore me nine wonderful, beautiful children, the first seven in nearly only as many years. I saw each one of them being born for I loved her so much that I could not leave her alone if ever she would be in pain or discomfort. Even to the last I was with her.
Through the years she was utterly reproductive and productive. Even while she raised nine kids, kept house for a vital, active family full of life and problems, she became an accomplished professional; a world-class interior designer whose works spanned the archipelago and extended to foreign lands from Singapore, Kuching in Malaysia, the United States and communist Bulgaria and Hungary. Few of you know that she was the first Filipino interior designer to ever be commissioned to design a hotel for an international chain. She also designed packaging and communications items including the entire generic logo for the Holiday Inns in Asia which are still in use today. She collaborated with some of the world’s greatest designers like Dale Keller, Scollard Maas and Ken Smith; and, our leading architects like Lindy Locsin and Pinggoy Manosa.
What a woman she was, and O! How much I loved her. I loved her utterly, completely and truly – even if not always truthfully. But no man tried to make up for his peccadilloes as much as I think I did. My children, whom she and I love so wholeheartedly used to warn me that I was constantly spoiling her. But it was glorious spoiling Bunny. Not that I really had a choice, for what Bunny wanted Bunny got – for so long as I could afford it. But she was so smart that she would never want something I could not afford.
Bunny could fix the odds against me whichever way things went. I would seldom complain. I had learned from Camelot that the only way to handle Bunny was to love her, deeply love her, truly love her, simply love her, love her.
Bunny’s greatest and final glory started three years ago when she suddenly gave up a lifestyle of fun and frolic, which she had somehow managed to fit into her already tight schedule in the past. This was substituted by a deep, enduring devotion for the Virgin Mother.
Her transformation was sudden. She gave up everything worldly – well almost: retired from her career, gave up her social life and concentrated on raising her grandchildren and taking care of our home. But most of all she centered on her mission for the Virgin, joining Marian groups and working on conversions. Her love and devotion for the Blessed Virgin Mary made her resume her traveling, this time through pilgrimages to Marian centers in the world. Last year she was in the Holy Land, in Lourdes, Garabandal and even in Ephesus to visit the house where Mary died. Of course, she was in Lipa, Manaoag or Agoo whenever she could go.
Regular Masses and communion became an addictive pattern of her life. She even organized a dawn rosary procession at our village, which I thought was a scandalous thing to do – imagine waking up people at four in the morning to walk and pray the Rosary. But they were roused willingly.
In this dimension of the spirit, Bunny flourished and bloomed like the red, red roses that she loved in common with the Blessed Virgin Mary. Apparently last Saturday she had blossomed fully. Thus, her loving Mother Mary plucked her and took her to the bosom of the Lord.
I celebrate and honor you, Bunny. I love you, Bunny. Hold my hand as you sleep in peace.
(Note: When the time for delivery came, I could not do it and requested my eldest, Joann, to read the eulogy for me.)