Christmas came in June
Before my mother passed away last year, one of her last wishes was for our modest house in Gulod to be renovated. When we were ready for it, she was hospitalized. Fixing the roof and the ceiling, which were the first two phases of the repair, took a back seat. Attending to her welfare became our prime concern.
Nanay died in May 2023. Our humble home lost its light. Only then did I fully understand why mothers are called ilaw ng tahanan. Because no matter how bright the lights at home were, their glow was rendered dull when the home suddenly lost a mother.
Our house still ached for some fixing — and so did our hearts.
My youngest brother Rod, with whom I share the house now, said the roof and the ceiling could still wait for their imminent repair until our mother’s babang luksa (first death anniversary). We neither had the strength nor the emotional preparedness to move things around the house, much more to touch Nanay’s room.
Two weeks after Nanay’s babang luksa, I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night with my my bed soaked in rainwater. The water seeped from the roof to the ceiling; the ceiling almost caved in due to the heavy downpour. I dashed to my mother’s room, half-awake, to check on her. Only her stacks of dusters by her bedside greeted me.
If Nanay were still alive, she would be in charge of the renovation. She knew which contractor to tap, how many people were needed, where to source the materials. She did it after my father passed away in 2010.
It took a few more days before we could find a team of handymen who would do the repair. My brothers who have houses in the compound offered Rod and me shelter while the house was being fixed. Rod opted to stay home, never mind if he had to clean up the dust after a day’s work.
My spirit wanted to stay elsewhere.
***
It was June 13 when my sister-from-another-mother Mye Alimagno Pascual offered to let me stay in her house in Cabuyao. When her mom, Tita Connie Alimagno, learned about it, she countered that I should stay with them. After all, in their compound of three houses, one house was vacant. Next thing I knew, Tita Connie and her husband Tito Ed Alimagno, ever loving and thoughtful, were already thinking of my breakfast and other provisions for 10 days.
Aliw Alimagno-Santos, who lives in the main house, was with the Alimagno angels Lea and Natie when I transferred my luggage to my room. She even lent me her crisp linen and soft duvet as she made sure I would have Bactidol and Lysol ready in the toilet. Her husband Marco Santos tutored the techie twerp in me how to navigate the smart TV in the room. Their precocious children Andi and Chocho gave me the extra cheerful welcome.
Every day became extra eventful because Chocho would regale me about the Chinese lessons he learned in school. At night, before Chocho climbed the stairs to his bedroom, I would read to him the front page and business page of The STAR. (Tita Connie would always have the Lifestyle page because she never missed acing the crossword puzzle every day.) Never mind if Chocho is six years old, the kid is a sponge. He would reward me with a good night hug and a sweet “I love you, Tito Bum” nightcap.
On my third night, I lost the internet connection in the room. Alexis Alimagno, a lawyer who is now running for a seat in the city council of Cabuyao, and her husband Andrew Felix came to the rescue, their fur baby Taylor barking at me from afar. Alex and Andrew introduced me to Netflix bingeing. And late-night chatting about this and that episode of Suits, Designated Survivor, Young Sheldon. I was never a couch potato until my stay at my “Airbnb.” (No, they don’t rent it. It’s a privilege that Tito Ed and Tita Connie adopted me — for 10 days. Or so I thought.)
Yes, I told my Alimagno family that the orphan me would stay with them for only 10 days. I was confident because the contractor said the roof of our house in Gulod would be fixed in 10 days. Because I was new to renovation, I did not know that delays were real.
The delays were, in effect, heaven-sent. The construction setback was actually a blessing in disguise. It aided in healing further my broken heart caused by the demise of my mother.
Ten days came and went and I was still at my “Alimagno Airbnb.” Tito Ed, an architect, whose presence every day I seek for because I love the wisdom he shares with me, made me feel welcome all the more when I told his family about the delay in the repair. He and his wife and daughter Nezlee Alimagno live in Alabang. (Mye and Nezlee were my kind nurses when I got sick for a day, perhaps because of the tension in the handymen’s delay. A separate group chat on Messenger was created so the Alimagno sister in the US, Tylou Bowman and Mariel Alimagno, would also be in the loop about my stay.)
With the delay, Mye and her husband Joseph Pascual became concerned. They talked to their son Alfonso, my inaanak, for his input because he is a licensed master plumber and soon-to-be-architect.
Alfonso took the wheel, so to speak. He made site visits. One thing led to another until I saw my inaanak making a design for the Phase 3 of my house renovation—change doors, sliding windows, change kitchen, retiling, drop lights, room extension, the works! I agreed. The renovation in Gulod continues.
And now, when Alfonso and I meet in their house over breakfast, with his siblings Andrei, Joaquin and Julia who give also their opinion and adulation about their brother’s design, I see a vision of new beginnings.
So, when I am in Cabuyao, I visit my brothers in Gulod and check the development of the house. I still stay with my Alimagno family. They have given me my early Christmas—and it began in June this year when they took me under their wing.
I am home.
***
The friendship I have with the Alimagnos is a tale that started with ?50. That was my monthly tuition in a private high school in Cabuyao when I became a scholar of the late Cabuyao Mayor Jun Alimagno, eldest brother of Tito Ed. When I started working after college, I looked for Tito Jun to thank him for the opportunity. We became friends.
That friendship I had with him was extended to the family of Mye. Their presence in my life is a proof of God’s existence. My relationship with them bears the imprint of the kindness and generosity of God.
Christmas came early for me in June when they adopted me. Truth is, it has been a merry Christmas with them since 1984.
I did not know that the house repair in Gulod is actually a life repair for me. Now that I am an orphan, I find comfort in the “parenting” Tito Ed and Tita Connie afford me. The love and joy their entire family gives me is the Christmas I celebrate in my heart.
God is good. All the time.
Merry Christmas! *
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