Peaks & Valleys

That life is a conundrum struck me like lighting when I was in first year high, and I was giddy about my coming birthday. Then a classmate sighed that she dreaded the day because it was her father’s death anniversary.

Then it struck me that since there are billions of people in the planet, every day is both a celebration and a day of mourning — someone is born, someone dies; someone is hired, someone is fired; someone gets married, someone’s marriage is annulled. There is a time and a season for everything — sometimes, all in a day. “Life begins, life ends,” remarked PR guru Charlie Agatep, who lost his daughter Audrey General a year ago.

The seasons of life, the peaks and valleys of emotion were compressed in my life recently — in the past three weeks.  On Dec. 21, I attended a grand Chinese-Filipino wedding, where college sweethearts were wed; on Dec. 23, a beach wedding in Batangas; Christmas Eve, Christmas Day; on Dec. 27 an officemate marked a birthday while another officemate lost his beloved mother; New Year’s Eve, New Year’s Day; on Jan. 8, my husband’s brother-in-law passed away; Jan. 9, my Mom celebrated her 76th birthday; on Jan. 10 my husband and I stood as sponsors in a beautiful Tagaytay wedding that united high school sweethearts and on the same day my husband’s 47-year-old cousin succumbed to a sudden heart attack. All these in 21 days.

“What a roller coaster,” my husband Ed sighed last Sunday, as we hurried down from the wedding in Tagaytay to attend his brother-in-law’s funeral and his cousin’s wake.

My friend Tess Santos Cofill, at whose son Gelo’s wedding I stood as sponsor last Jan. 10, said wisely, “Enjoy the ups, endure the downs! Life goes on.”

Life is exhausting. But the roller-coaster three weeks made me pause and ponder, take a deep breath and slow down.

* * *

Holidays are stressful, not just because of the round of parties and celebrations but also because of the pressure to be celebratory for those who have no reason to celebrate. Some are actually alone and lonely, or rather would be alone, but feel the immense pressure to keep up with the ho-ho-hos. Those suffering broken hearts and riddled wallets may also experience a depression and the longer nights (there is a correlation between darkness and depression) don’t help any.

Hard to imagine that silent nights, lonely nights exist amidst the jingling of the bells. But I was told by the staff of a funeral home in the US (where my dad lay in repose for a night) that their “busiest” months were the holiday months.

Holidays are also physically draining for a lot of people, and the merrymaking takes a toll on the health of others. 

PeopleAsia features editor Greggy Vera Cruz recalls how his mother Myrna stayed up on Dec. 23 and 24 whipping up a feast. She suddenly felt chest pains on Dec. 26 and passed away on Dec. 27, and the bereaved family spent New Year’s Eve in mourning.

When we visited him, he said in between sobs that his mother probably made sure that she prepared his favorite dishes before she suffered her attack, so he would have them for the New Year even if she were no longer around.

* * *

My brother-in-law Luis “Sosoy” Lareza Jr. was one of the kindest people I have ever met, and definitely one of the most dedicated family men.

I remember one time when he saw me waiting for a cab near Malacañang, which was near his wife Peewee’s (Ed’s sister’s) office. It was rush hour and I couldn’t find one to Makati, where I lived then. Anyway, he and Peewee were heading home to their house in Cubao and since he was going back to Makati, he passed the same route and came back for me (I was still there an hour later) and brought me home. It was a gesture I never forgot, because I was close to tears with frustration then.

Sosoy passed away on Jan. 8 after a seizure in the wee hours of the morning. During his wake, both his sister Bembet and my husband Ed recalled that it was Sosoy who taught them how to drive. And they both said he was a patient driving instructor — a rarity among relatives.

During the wake, my husband’s cousin Ricky recalled that when he was in a health emergency in school once, it was Sosoy who came to his rescue.

The day after, Jan. 10, right after a joyous wedding where Ed and I stood as sponsors, we got the shocking news that Ricky had also passed away! And he looked so healthy and handsome the day before at Sosoy’s wake. We were told he felt chest pains the following day and died in his sister’s car in the midst of heavy traffic 10 minutes before they reached the hospital.

He was 47.

Truly, death is like a thief in the night — it comes so suddenly, sometimes when you least expect it.

* * *

In repose, Sosoy looked so peaceful, and Ricky even had a smile on his face. Let me share here the eulogy given by Sosoy’s eldest daughter Kirsten Uy de Baron, which sums up why Sosoy was both good and great:

Top 5 things I love about you, “Dads”:

1. Your humor. Whatever the occasion or situation, Dads would always have a joke or quip up his sleeve. Sure, it would most of the time be corny but it always lightened the mood. He would even try his lines on his grandkids like how he’d point to their school as we drove by and say, “That’s my school!” or how he’d compliment their clothes or things and say, “Can I borrow that?” And my kids would just reply a lovingly exasperated, “Daddy-Grand…” Almost how we would reply when we were young…I love how he could always smile through anything, his lightness of spirit and innate silliness helped us forget the rough times, even for a little while.

2. Your overall impact. I’ve always admired how Dads always tried his best to look his best. He would always have a comb conveniently tucked in the back pocket of his always pristinely pressed slacks or walking shorts (depending on the occasion), perfectly matched with a coordinating top and accented with just the right shoe. I was always so proud when he’d pick us up from school, his stature always made him stand out among the other daddies picking their daughters up. Even after his surgeries in the hospital, as soon as he could walk, he would be promptly changed and dressed. He never looked how he must’ve felt. Which said a lot about his excellence.

3. Your wisdom. Dads knew everything about anything. You could ask him about current events, geography, history, directions to every side street and eskinita of Metro Manila, handyman stuff, recipes, even the latest chismis — he would know or at least come up with an answer. I will always remember how “Moms” would react, “Ganon ba yun...?” And just silently agree with whatever Dads said about a certain topic. He was an ever-reliable source. He loved crosswords and solving things. He was a thinker and a strategist. He was never without the perfect idea for anything. It was awesome.

4. Your generosity. We were never well-off, Dads was never a millionaire, but he was always willing to give. On car rides with him, I’d remember him giving out coins to beggars who tapped at our windows. During Christmas time he would always have change ready for carolers. He loved buying my kids treats and little trinkets. He would always give even what we already didn’t have. I think that’s why we never were in want, because Dads set the standard of rich generosity. To give regardless of our situation, knowing there was always someone else who had it worse than we did. We didn’t always have a lot in the bank, but we were rich in the things that mattered, thanks to Dads.

5. Your tirelessness. This is my favorite character trait. Dads would always be the designated driver, messenger, companion, delivery guy, handyman, errand boy, bodyguard and babysitter. He was a hands-on father who bathed us, cleaned up after us, chaperoned us, shopped for us. I remember him attending school presentations and even bought and set up my very first camping set for Girl Scouts. He never said no when asked to drive any of us anywhere. He’d complain and rant, “San ka na naman pupunta?” “Bakit ang layo naman?” “Bakit ang late naman matatapos?” But always, always brought us where we needed to be and picked us up from where we were, losing countless of hours of sleep. He would give each of us calls and texts almost every day to check up on us, or just to chat. He was not a man of many words, but a doer. He may not have always expressed verbally how much he loved us but his actions spoke so much louder than that. He was at every birth at the hospital, every birthday party, dedication, school program and event he got invited to. It really showed me what he valued most in life. I’m proud to say it was us.

To end, I came upon this verse the morning of Dads’ passing and it really spoke to me. Matthew 7:18 and 20 says, “A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit...Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them.” I will forever be grateful that I came from a good tree. Thank you, Dads, we hope we can do you proud and continue to live by your great example. We love you. See you in heaven.

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