The beautiful home of Gina de Venecia in Forbes Park is a standout every Christmas.
Amidst all the festively spruced-up homes in the posh enclave, the De Venecia home is perhaps the only one without Christmas décor — not even a leftover twig from an old mistletoe.
It has been this way for the last five years, since Gina and former Speaker Joe de Venecia’s youngest child, KC, perished in a fire that gutted down their former home in Dasmariñas Village.
KC died on Dec. 16, nine days before Christmas, from a fire that is believed to have started from a Christmas tree overloaded with lights. The last the family heard from KC was a frantic, “Ate, help!” call to her sister Carissa Cruz (now Evangelista).
Gina barely escaped from the fire herself after a maid, who reassured her that her children were both out of the house, led her to a fire escape that was bizarrely beside the household’s spare LPG tanks. She remembers barging into the pitch-black, smoke-filled corridor separating the children’s room from her own in search of KC, only to be told by the maid, “Di ba nagpaalam sa inyo kanina?”
It was only when Carissa told her of KC’s call that Gina found out KC was trapped inside the house — the iron grills on the windows that were meant to protect her instead imprisoned her. Gina says proudly that her brave little girl, 16 at the time of her death, did all the right things — she wrapped herself in a wet towel and submerged herself in a tub of water. Later, rescuers discovered that the fire extinguisher in the room was emptied of its contents — KC had apparently sprayed all of it on the burning room. KC had fought till the end, but her time on earth was up.
Gina was devastated by her daughter’s death, the pain compounded by its timing — nine days before Christmas, when traditional dawn Masses begin, when Christmas carols fill the air and gift-giving reaches a crescendo. Christmas, most of all, is family. The pressure to enjoy Christmas, believe it or not, exists. And the toll Christmas and all its expectations take on one who has just lost a child is unquantifiable.
Gina says she didn’t want to go on living but her support system was strong. They formed a sturdy net that kept her from falling into despair. In turn, she reached out to other grieving mothers and formed a group, the INA Foundation.
She survived the first year, and the next. And the next.
“The pain I will carry with me for the rest of my life, but the intervals between the tears are longer now,” says Gina. She eases her pain by reaching out to others, especially the less fortunate. From helping battered women (the establishment of a “Women’s Desk” in all police stations was championed by her in the ’90s), she reached out to street children, and grieving mothers. On her own, she brings flowers to the graves of the children of her bereaved friends.
“When a mother, who is the heart and soul of a home, is rendered dysfunctional by her sorrows, the whole family will suffer,” says Gina, explaining her empathy for grieving mothers.
Having survived her sorrow, she is running as Pangasinan congressman in next year’s elections. “I want to make a difference still,” is how she explains her decision to seek public office. In many ways, she is the poster girl for a grieving mom who has risen above her grief to be the lifeline of others in a similar state
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But lately, Gina has been talking Christmas again. Her daughter Carissa has given her two granddaughters, Isabella and Gabrielle, who light up her life the way no Christmas tree can.
Isabella, who is two, calls her “Mamita.” Gina believes Isabella is “KC Jr.”, feisty and strong-willed. She can effortlessly wrap her Mamita around her little finger. The baby Gabrielle is just six weeks old.
During the fifth anniversary of KC’s death, Gina hosted a breakfast for family and friends in her house. Isabella and Gabrielle were there, napping in the nursery that Gina fixed up for her apos.
How has your life changed after you became a lola, I asked Gina. “I have begun to think that maybe, maybe, I can start to celebrate and enjoy Christmas again. I have never put up a tree since KC died, and maybe I never will again for the rest of my life. But who knows? Little by little, I will welcome Christmas back into my life.”
When I left the unadorned De Venecia home, I saw a twinkle. It wasn’t from the lights on a Christmas tree — that will take time. It was from Gina’s eyes as she got ready to play with her granddaughters.
(You may e-mail me at joanneraeramirez@yahoo.com)