Sunday, January 23, 2011

Kausin Name Change

How it came about.

To those Causing’s and Kausin’s who are curious as to why there are two different ways of spelling our surname, here’s the story as told by my mother, known as Nanay Ita, for Margairta.  Pat (Baby) Kausin Shoulders, mentioned in the Causing Clan Facebook that it’s best to let it rest and chalked it to two brothers misunderstanding.  I believe the rest of the clans deserves to know how it came about.  It needs to be brought to light so the present and succeeding Kausins and Causings relatives at least would have an idea as to the reason why.

I may not have the characters name correctly assigned but the gist of the story is what counts in this narrative.  The Causings were originally from Barotac Viejo, Iloilo as you all may know, or not.  I can’t even remember the names of my maternal grandparents. Baby gave them to me, Pedro a Judge was my grandfather and Clotilda was my grandmother’s name.  Suffice to begin the history of the name change to my mother’s siblings.  Tatay Ulo, the oldest of the siblings whose actual name I believe was Santa Cruz Causing, an elitist of sort.  Maybe as a result of him serving many terms as the president of the town Barotac Viejo as the town mayors were called then, Presidente. He believed it was below the dignity of the family status for Tatay Ingoy, (Domingo Causing), whom we call Papang, Baby’s father, to enlist in the United States Army, 26 Cavalry Regiment, in Fort Stotesemberg, that later became known as Clark Air force Base after the Second World War. This was around the 1920ies.

Tatay Ingoy a strong willed individual and a rebel as well went ahead and enlisted anyway. For this act he was disowned, and disavowed as a member of the Causing family.  So when he enlisted in U.S. Cavalry, by the way they were known as the Philippine Scouts, he changed his surname from Causing to Kausin.  While Tatay Ingoy was serving in the military and whenever a family member and other relatives who came to live with him at Fort Stotesemberg, like my mother and Manong Miyong, Remy B, Kausin, and others they changed from Causing to Kausin.  Was that a prerequisite of Tatay Ingoy in order for them to stay with him?  I for one tend to believe so.  And this was affirmed by Baby as was told to her by Mamang, Tatay Ingoy’s wife and Baby’s mother.  To this day I don’t know Mamang’s real name. Others outside of our immediate family circle they called her Nanay Aning. At any rate that’s how the Kausin came into being.

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Saturday, May 01, 2010

Manong Dam’s Funeral II

Our beloved Manong Dam, my most favorite brother-in-law, an officer and a gentleman, a knight of Columbus, a stalwart in the formation of Fil-AM club in Pittsburg, CA, a loving father, grandfather, great-grandfather.

MANONG DAM’S FUNERAL II

04/23/2010-Friday—After the viewing a lot of people went to the house for more interactions and refreshment.  Thanks to the Abenojas while we were at the chapel they were at the house busy cooking food.  Thank you very much ladies.  I am sorry I can’t recall your names, but you know who you are—again thank you very much.

We had a great time with Jeovani Abenoja singing and Eleanor Ripalda on the guitar with the sintunados that’s me and Dayo who love to sing.  Unfortunately we are not blessed with a good voice, in fact we are tone deaf.  But we dedicate to the good Lord our love for music so we go ahead and sing anyway to the dismay of our relatives. There must have been sixty or seventy people in the house and backyard in small group catching up for lost time.  Unfortunately, we are all so busy or so far apart that most of the time we meet only when someone dies or someone gets married.

The crowd broke up around 2 AM, but Dar, Dante and I were still up having a grand time reliving the day.  The people who wanted to go to sleep were shooing us to be silent and telling us to go to bed.  And you know what happens when people try to tell you to be quite, the more you try to suppress the laughter the louder the giggle gets. We finally settled down and managed a few hours of sleep.

Of course after all the fun and the wine from late last night to the wee hours this morning it was hard to wake up much less get up, but we had to because of the funeral.  By the way, there must have been 30 people in the house and all wanted to get to the bathroom.  So if at any point and time, if you are reading this now, during the funeral you smelled someone next to you, now you know why.

I got up at 0900hrs and by 0925hr I was driving my sister Nene and Lomy to the funeral home.  Rush, rush to the point I forgot to take my medications. Nene was panicking and rumbling about she should have been in the funeral chapel at 0900. She was chastising me because I elected to take Railroad Ave instead of Harbor. She was telling me there are more signal lights on Railroad.  I never counted them so I was not aware of it.

We made it to the funeral home and she settled down until it was time to go to the church for the mass before the funeral.  While we were in the limo Mary Grace was running around like a chicken without its head and she tapped on the window looking for her son, Nathaniel that’s when Nene got excited all over again. They found Nathaniel in one of the cars. We made it to the Good Shepherd church with no further excitement, none that I knew.

The mass started on time, 1000hrs, and the church was full, more people than on a regular Sunday service. Everything went smoothly, Justin and Deedee did the first and second reading.  The priest who knew Manong Dam very well expounded on Manong Dam’s achievements, as a member of the armed forces during WWII, as a member of the Knight of Columbus and as a member of the Pittsburg community.  Everything went well except for the strugglers who came in late who kept opening the door which of course drew everyone’s attention even though they tried to tippy toe as if that would stop us from looking.

The funeral procession from the church to the cemetery was an adventure to say the least.  First of all there was no police escort to stop traffic.  I was told but I did not see it that Danton in his barong on his motorcycle was the one stopping traffic on the intersection. Danton was wearing barong because all the pallbearers are wearing one in honor of Manong Dam who’s dressed in barong as well. By the way the wearing of barong during the funeral was decided by the grandkids just a few days before the funeral so people like me did not bring one. But I wore one anyway, thanks to my favorite nephew, Dante brought one for me to wear. More stories about barongs later.

There were more than 100 cars that made it to the cemetery.  I don’t know how many that didn’t but I am sure there were many, not just sure of the exact number. In fact the funeral ceremony was delayed for a while waiting for the rest of the cars who apparently turned off to the first cemetery a mile down the road.

The funeral service was impressive.  There were two honor guards in their dress uniform awaiting the arrival of the hearse. The guards did the military funeral with the playing of Taps as they stood tall at present arms, that means standing at attention and rendering a right hand salute,  as we all did those of us who have served in the Armed Forces. Then there was the folding of the flag that was draped over the coffin, a very precise slow movement.  After it was properly folded the honor guard handed it to Nene.

After the coffin was lowered and we said our goodbye with flowers strewn over the coffin we lingered for a while and said hello to relatives and friends whom we have not seen in decades.  To the people I conversed with if any of you noticed that I sort of backed off every time we came too close.  It was not because I was being stuck up, like I said before, some of us did not get a chance to shower.

The best laid plan of mice and men will go awry 50 percent of the time and it will happen 100 percent of the time. Don’t even try to decipher what I just said, I borrowed that from Dante, the 50 percent part, because no one knows what it means, not even Dante.  Anyway, I said that because the funeral service was done by 12:30 and the restaurant reservation was for two O’clock.  There’s that gap of one hour and a half—what to do?  Millions of suggestions and all the cudda, shudda,and wudda that didn’t help but raise the blood pressure kept coming from everyone.  At one point I got a call from Dayo, asking me to ask Dulce to call the restaurant if we could go there before 2 O’clock. Which we already thought of, but unfortunately, Dulce didn’t have the phone number of the restaurant. I asked Dayo why didn’t he call Dulce directly? He said, “I don’t want to talk to her.”  Being the number 1 instigator, I told Dulce this, and Dulce said, “I don’t want to talk to him either.”  Now I know why I got the call.

Anyway, as far as the time was concern not a problem, but the number of people was. The reservation was for 200 people and at least twice that many showed up. Literarily, there were people eating outside the restaurant and some of us who were aware of the situation hurried through our meal so other people could take our seat. Very good food, all meat, chicken, beef and pork beside bread, salad and such of course, and plenty of it.  The owner really did a superb job keeping the trays full and the helpers hustled to keep up with the demands.

As I pointed out above there would be more stories regarding the barong. Well here it is. Like I said I did not bring one.  However, Dante has at least four that I know of—how?  Because he let us know every time that these four were made or should I say created by the one and only fashion designer of the Philippines, Randy Ortiz.  Frankly, I have not heard of him, but then again I am not used to paying 1,200 dollars for four barong shirts. Checked the word used, change it to not, like I will NOT pay $400 for one barong and a pink one at that.  I bought mine from Greenhills, the poor man’s mall in Metro Manila for twenty bucks.  Dante offered for me to wear the pink one.  We had a lengthy discussion about this.  Pardon me,  I don’t mean to hurt anyone’s feeling by saying that real man don’t wear pink barong.  But that’s how I feel, and I am a real man all five feet two inches of me—I lied 5’ 1-1/2”. 

I finally conceded to wear it when he changed the color from pink to salmon. Unbelievably, the pink/salmon barong looks better on me.  I tried to talk Dante to giving it to me but he would not part with it.  He did give me one of the white ones.  I could without equivocation state that it’s the most expensive piece of clothing in my wardrobe.  Thanks Dante. 


LESSONS LEARNED:
Just a suggestion to those who are planning on dying please let the people you are leaving behind know if not the time at least the date.  Reason being, the restaurants need at least a week to make a reservation.  Dulce and Pinky reached the panic mode trying to make a reservation, either the restaurant is already booked or not big enough to accommodate 200 people.  In fact, Smit’s restaurant was the last hope and it violated the fire department code because I saw on the wall the maximum occupancy for the restaurant is 152 and there were about 400 of us.

Another thing, when you die time it so that you would not, repeat not, be burred on a weekend.  It cost a thousand dollars more depending on the location. Also, if you have children make sure you don’t lose any of them and panicked the widow. Furthermore, if you post on your facebook, email, or verbally tell people the location of the restaurant and it changed like what happened to us, make sure to let these people know of the change.  I bet there were people who went to the Golden Dragon the previously named restaurant.  If what I said sounded crude, I did not mean it to be, just trying to be practical.

For the people doing the organizing and planning give the relatives and friends ample time to comply for whatever special requirements there are, such as the wearing of barong.  By the way, maybe one or two of you who happen to be reading this and not familiar what a barong is.  Just for you, a barong is a long sleeve shirt worn as a formal dress in the Philippines.  It’s made from a fine fabric like pineapple and other plants, with nice designs. The material is so fine you could see through it. And for your further edification, there’s what they call casual barong, it could be made from the same materials as the formal one, or any other materials like cotton but it’s short sleeve.

Thanks to all the people who shared in our grief, for their contributions and condolences. Special thanks to all the folks who brought all the delicious food throughout the week.  And a very special thanks to the Abenoja ladies who prepared the food for the meal after the wake while we were at the funeral chapel.

We lost a beloved person in Manong Dam but in losing him we found new friends, Sam and Maria, and also found long lost old friends in the process. Thank you all and may we all meet again under a different circumstance.

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Thursday, April 29, 2010

Manong Dam’s Funeral

Damaso Basco 12/12/1912 Passed on 04/18/2010

MANONG DAM’S FUNERAL

We received the call from Dulce of Manong Dam’s passing away around 10 PM on the 18th of April 2010.  Between Lomy and me working on two separate computers managed to book a flight departing Reagan Intl Airport at 0659 the following morning.  Not really the following morning because by the time we printed our E-ticket it was almost 1 AM.

I managed to get two and a half hours of sleep.  Lomy stayed up all night e-mailing friends and relatives and tending to her virtual farm on Farmville.  By 0430hrs we were on our way to Reagan Airport, about 45 miles away from our house in Stafford, VA. Not surprisingly, I-95 was already heavy with traffic from all the government employees commuting to Wash DC from northern Virginia.

The check-in and flight to San Francisco was stress-free.  Since our E-ticket only showed the departing time from DCA and the arrival at SFO, naturally I assumed that it was a direct flight, not so. We had a stop-over at Green Bay, WI at which time we were encouraged to get something to eat because the flight time to SFO is 5 hours and Airtran Airline no longer serve food on any of their flights.

Lomy and I deplaned and went to Moe’s Restaurant and waited for 10 minutes to be served.  Lomy meanwhile decided to go to the bathroom and when she returned she saw me standing in line next to Moe’s in front of a sandwich stand.  Lomy went back to the plane while I waited for our food, pastrami sandwich and coke.  Lomy was searching for her cell phone to call me when she saw me, the plane was about to take.  It wouldn’t have done her any good, my cell phone was in my carry-on safely stowed in the overhead compartment.

San Francisco airport is unique when it comes to the ease and convenience of getting a car rental. I don’t recall of any other airports where the airport train stops directly to where you pick up the car. Usually a shuttle bus would take you off-site to pick up a rental.  Normally, car rentals would asked if you want insurance coverage. They won’t tell you that you could use your own car insurance instead.  Additionally, they now offer you a GPS to go with your vehicle for additional fee of course. We brought our own tom-tom to save a little money. 

Unfortunately, our tom-tom has a higher propensity of getting us lost, more so than getting lost on our own.. It kept telling me to stay left on the interstate as if I would be turning left in the next 100 yards or so.  Tom-tom, just in case you don’t know, is a brand of GPS, that Lomy and I named Tammy because the voice is that of a woman with a British accent that calls the interstate a thoroughfare. When Tammy says stay left, to Lomy that means I take the left-most lane four or five lanes over so by the time Tammy says exit to the right in 80 yards it’s too late to make the turn without causing a pile up.  Tammy would keep saying turn around that’s when like an idiot I start to argue with the darn machine, and finally telling it to shut up.  We were okay until we crossed Bay Bridge.

I suppose we were not really lost, Tammy just directed us to a different route.  Instead of going via Orinda, Walnut Creek and so forth it took us through places I have not heard before like Pinole, Richmond and so on.  I thought this route was better, more rural and through the hillside with less traffic. This is probably the few weeks that the hills of California are at its greenest, beautiful.  It reminds me of the area around Fez and Marrakesh in Morocco.

By the time we made it to Pittsburg, Manong Dam’s remain had been taken to the funeral home. We did not see him until Friday evening, the only time the funeral made it accessible for viewing to both the relatives and the public. So all that time we hang out in the house doing what we normally do, play scrabble, play poker, talk about old times and poke jokes especially about the people who are not present, sorry if you were not there that’s just the way it is.  We also got two rounds of golf, Thursday and Sunday. I could probably write a novel just about our golf outing.  Suffice to say Dayo was crying on every hole because of the bet I made against his brothers, Dave, Danny, and Duke.

The bet was the brothers don’t have to give Dayo and me any strokes.  However, Dayo and I will use the best score between the two of us against each of theirs. Five dollars bet for every six holes that means we could win $45 looking at it optimistically. However, when we started posting sixes and sevens on the par fours and par fives on the front nine, Dayo started crying that I made a bad bet and that he thought I was good and had taken lessons from the pro.  Anyway, after the round we lost 15 to Dave, won 15 from Danny and lost 5 to Duke. So we each lost 2.50 but he won 8 bucks from the skin game for his two birdies on both the par 3s on the back nine. Which by the way he did not share any of his winning to me, his partner. That was Thursday.

Sunday Dayo was afraid to bet them, we could have won big because we both played a lot better or the brothers played terrible. I did make some money from my favorite nephew, Dante who is the worst amongst us and made some money from Dayo as well.  Before we teed off, Dion promised to honor his grandpa, Manong Dam by beating everyone.  I’ll be darn if he didn’t.  I would have bet him anything that he won’t beat Dave.  He had 79 and Dave 82.  After the round, Dar asked me, besides being an idiot now that you have seen Dante play, “Is he still your favorite?” Yes.
From Monday afternoon until Sunday night, there was a continuous procession of friends and relatives bringing food and offering condolences. Too many that I am afraid if I fail to mention them all I would hurt someone’s feeling. I would however, name the food they brought, some of which I have never heard of and most likely will misspell it as well.  To start with there’s pozzoli, sounds like Italian to me but I was told it’s a Mexican dish.  Here is the rest of the list from what I can remember; chili verde, caldereta, pizza, sushi, all kinds of chicken from chicken afritada, to rotisserie chicken, arroz caldo, pancit, dinuguan, all kinds of beef, ham, denengdeng (veggie goulash) with bamboo shoot( sarap) sarap is not a dish it’s a Filipino word for taste good, empanada, enseymada, puto, kutsinta,bibingka, turon, spaggetti, macarroni salad and much, much more. The only thing missing to make it a real Filipino shindig was a whole lechon.

Friday-1600hrs the funeral home open the chapel for viewing.  Relatives and friends started trickling in some I have not met before and most I have not seen since early fifties. Unfortunately, I did not have the time to really reminisce with them the good old times when I thought I was a legend in my own mind when I lived in Pittsburg with Manong Dam and Nene. The priest led the rosary at 7 PM and after the rosary he opened the floor so people could say something to honor Manong Dam’s memory. Duke and Dante MC’d the program. 

It started with Jeovani Abenoja singing Manong Dam’s and Nene’s theme song, Stardust. I bet there was not a single dried eyes in the chapel full of people, around 400 I am guessing, except for me of course.  I was not wiping tears, my allergy was bothering me that’s why I had my handkerchief out. Appropriately, the program ended with another song-I Believe, sang by Melrose Basco.  In between there were people who paid tribute to Manong Dam, Mr. Doloan, Mr. Abinsay, Duke, the grandkids Aubrey, Paige and Atriana as a group, Jarrod, and Dante recited a poem for his grandpa, there may have been others that I cannot recall and I delivered the eulogy. The presentation was not necessarily in the order the names are mentioned above. The priest concluded the program by facing Manong Dam’s coffin and rendered a right hand salute as a tribute to fallen comrade in arms for the priest was also an officer and a veteran, but not of WWII vintage.

When Lomy and I visited Manong Dam and family in February, the night before we left I told Dulce when it’s time for Manong to meet his maker I would rather not attend. I don’t really care to see dead people. She did not say anything but started crying and then she told Pinky sitting next to her.  Pinky on the other hand chastised me and told me in no certain terms, I have to be there because I am the one to give the eulogy.  Thanks Pinky I am glad that I attended.  As I prepared what to say in memory of Manong Dam, below is what I wrote but not exactly what I said in my eulogy.  I was forewarned I only have ten minutes for my speech so I omitted some and changed some on the fly which is normally what happens whenever I gave a speech anyway.  Something I learned while a member of the Toastmasters Club.

Here goes,  “Beloved relatives, dear friends, ladies and gentlemen, welcome, and thank you for coming to be with us this moment, to pay tribute, to pay homage and to honor Manong Dam. To the few who are not familiar with the Filipino language and culture, Manong is not his first name.  Manong is a Filipino word that could mean many different things depending on how it’s uttered. Basically, it’s how we address anyone who is older, but not too old for there’s a word for that too.  Anyone who is older we address as manong for male and manang for female, the closest English equivalent would be Sir and Madame. 

When we address Manong Dam—it sounds like this Manong Dam, with reverence. If spoken like this, Manong, like saying he is a manong.  It simply means regardless of age that someone is from the Ilocus province, an Ilocano in other words.  But it could also mean in a derogatory way,someone coming from Hicksville. So whenever you are talking about our Manong Dam say manong reverently.

Of course he had other names as well and he was addressed in different ways.  As an officer and a gentleman and a member of the greatest generation.  The troops addressed him as Sir, or Lt Basco.  As an esteemed member of the Fil-Am community he was Mister Basco.  But to his home boys in alaminos Pangasinan he was known as Asong, and to his adoring baseball fans in Fort Stotesemburg they called him Dickie. For the longest time I thought that was his nickname until my brother Diok explained that it came from the way they post the players name on the scoreboard, the initials, last name and position.  In his case D K Basco, pitcher.  Leave it to the Filipinos though, they will butcher the pronunciation of the English alphabet every time—thus he became Dickie.  Much later in his life when he came to the U. S. in 1950ies Dam changed to Dan.  I believe the Carusos a dear friends of the family changed it because Dam sounded too much like a curse word.

Oh my gosh! I almost used up my ten minutes and all I have talked about so far is his name. So here’s a quick glance of his young life before he joined the Cavalry.  During that time, graduating from high school was a great accomplishment.  At that time there’s just one high school in the entire province.  A province is like a county here in the States.  In Contra Costa the high school would be located in Martinez. Anyone who wants to go to high school, he/she must find his/her own way, most likely walk.  There were no school buses then and even now for that matter, not in the Philippines.  If you didn’t go to school you worked in the farm.

He lettered in baseball and volleyball but what he really wanted was to do track and field.  However, when he tried out the coach suggested he find another sports because he was too slow. I wondered why he did not join the basketball team as well, being 5 feet 8 inches he was very tall for a Filipino, I won’t be surprised if the basketball coach told him the same thing, too slow.

After graduating from high school he wanted to go to the University of the Philippines, in Los Banos to pursue a degree in Husbandry.  Jordan, Dulce’s son enlightened me as to what Husbandry is, he said, the study of horses.  I don’t know if that’s true I did not Google it. But due to shortage of money he was unable to go to college but he managed to become a husband anyway.  Next, he took the test for the PMA, the West Point of the Philippines, unfortunately he failed the physical because of his varicose vein.

That’s when he decided to join the cavalry.  He went to Fort Stotesemburg, later known as Clark Field to enlist but at that time the only way one can get in was if someone, retired, died or kicked out of the service. To earn his keep he did menial work for the senior NCOs.  After two months someone did die or got kicked out so he got in. Because he was a high school graduate and the 26th Cavalry pitching ace in baseball he rose in rank ahead of the old timers whose education was no higher than third grade. The cavalry he was in was the real horse cavalry with real horses not the Filipino puny, starved looking ones but horses like the ones you see in the movies.

When WWII broke out in December 1941 Manong Dam was in Bacolod City, Negros Occidental in the Visayan Islands getting the Philippine Army troops ready for war. When Maj Gen Edward King surrendered the Philippine/American armed forces to the Imperial Army of Japan in April 1942 Manong Dam was still in Bacolod City. He was spared the atrocities of that infamous Bataan Death March. As you may have heard the stories, 5 to 10 thousand PI/American troops died during the six days it took them to walk 70 miles from Bataan to Camp O’Donnell. Those who were too sick and too weak to go on were bayoneted or their heads chopped off to save bullets. He was however sent to the concentration camp in Capas,Tarlac where he contracted malaria.  There were more troops died in the concentration camp than in actual combat because of malnutrition and diseases.

Fast forward to October 1944, the liberation of the Philippines.  Manong Dam and his guerilla unit under Captain Garcia joined the liberating American Army, the 185th Infantry Regiment.  Manong Dam was wounded by a Japanese machine gun fire in Agno, Pangasinan on his left side under the armpit thus earning the Purple Heart Medal. He was air evacuated to Trippler Hospital in Honolulu Hawaii.  Upon his return to duty in Manila in 1945 he was assigned as the head recruiter.  I understand he recruited Mr. Abinsay who is also a residence of Pittsburg. He occupied this post until he was 100 percent medically discharged in 1950.  What that means was his pension was tax free.

After his discharged in 1950 he enrolled at Far Eastern University majoring in Business Administration. Then in 1952 he went by himself to the USA to complete his Business Admin degree at Highlands University in Las Vegas, NM.  I have heard of Las Vegas, Nevada but not New Mexico.  At any rate he graduated in 1954.  Nene along with their four children, Dulce, Dayo, Pinky and Danny and I came by boat to the USA in March 1953 and we stayed with Manong in Las Vegas.  We lived in a housing compound at a closed down Army Camp.  Sometime in 1955 they moved to Pittsburg, CA.  By that time I was in the Army, 1st Armored Division, that later became known as Elvis Presley’s unit.

When they got to Pittsburg Manong Dam tried to get his masters degree at UC Berkley but after two semesters he devoted his full time at Pittsburg Hospital, now defunct as a purchasing agent. He retired in 1976.  After which he devoted his entire waking hours to the game he loved-golf.  According to Danny, unfortunately, it did not improved his game.

No one would question his leadership, he led men in combat and presided over countless number of meetings. But as a follower he had a tendency to question those who led.  For example, one foggy night he diligently followed this car ahead of him for several miles.  When the car ahead stopped Manong Dam got out with temerity questioned the driver,  “Why are you stopping?” To which the dumbfounded driver replied, “This is where I live.” 

Manong Dam has never mentioned his accomplishments, medals, and the good deeds he had done in his life time. Okay maybe once he bragged when he had a good round of golf or maybe even twice. But never have I heard him say anything about the people he helped.  I remember when their house in San Francisco Del Monte looked like a dormitory.  There were students, relatives mostly but there were non-relatives also living with them.  These are the people I remember who lived with them while going to college in Manila: Doming my brother, Tita Con, Tita Con’s brothers, Ben and Ajerico, Manong Dam’s brothers Uncle Abing and uncle Ben, although not blood relatives there’s uncle Frank and uncle Pete.  There were others who did not live in the house but hang out for weeks on end, like Pong Gatdula.  There was this guy we called Sianong Bulag, not really blind, just one eye covered with cataract. He was a stow away in the ship Manong Dam was on with his recruits from Visaya and Siano got caught. He sort of adopted him and brought him home.  Siano stayed with the family until we left for the State in 1953.

Most importantly, I am who I am today, and proud to say a successful human being, maybe not in material wealth, but more than I would have had, had they not taken me away from the Philippines and brought me to the USA. They nurtured me, guided me, gave me shelter and most of all they gave me their unconditional love.

Good bye my most favorite brother-in-law, may you find that perfect swing when you play the Paradise Country Club in heaven, and see your golf ball sail through the air every time—and never, ever more say—Run Like Hell, ever again.

I suppose the proper ending would be to say Rest In Peace, but not me, I will let others say that to you. For I know there is no resting in peace in you as long as there are courses to play, so I’ll say play well Manong Dam and may your first putt on every green be for a birdie.  Goodbye and I love you.

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Saturday, December 06, 2008

Sentimental Fool

What a sentimental and romantic fool doing on a wintry day like today.

Just to let my favorite people know how this old sentimental and romantic fool is doing these wintry days. It has been cold for over a month here in Virginia.  Of course cold is a relative word.  To me it’s cold when I can’t go out to play golf and that’s when it’s below 50 degrees.  But looking at the brighter side, 40 degrees is a lot warmer than a lot of places at this time of the year, upstate New York and Chicago for example. So what do I do on days like these, besides going to the gym, reading books and watching TV, TFC—the Filipino Channel? 

On a wintry day like this, I find myself being nostalgic especially when I looked at the bare branches of the trees at our backyard through the glass wall from the computer station downstairs. Maybe that’s why we have winter to give us time to reflect. Somehow moment like this always brings me back to my youth. And when fortified with songs, like Let Me Call You Sweetheart and Stardust on the background where else one could travel to but back to memory lane.  I don’t know about you but in my case it seems there’s only fond memories of those good old days, especially the high school years. Even when disaster struck, like when the entire community was flooded with water rising four to six feet above the first floor of our homes the memories coming to me are of happy times. I remember roaming around the neighborhood in a swimming trunk helping the neighbors and had gotten into some mischievous situations (secret) and that was fun too. It was so much fun that we looked forward to the next flood, and flooding is a yearly occurrence in the Philippines.

I also find myself thinking of you and the happy moments we shared, the Philippine vacation, the high school class and family reunions, the wedding anniversary, and holidays spent together.  I just want to say that I am thankful for having the chance to spend good times with each and everyone on this mailing list.  I wish you all a happy and blessed yuletide season.  I love you all.

Tiger in the Woods
Ely

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

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Sentimental Fool

What a sentimental and romantic fool doing on a wintry day like today.

Just to let my favorite people know how this old sentimental and romantic fool is doing these wintry days. It has been cold for over a month here in Virginia.  Of course cold is a relative word.  To me it’s cold when I can’t go out to play golf and that’s when it’s below 50 degrees.  But looking at the brighter side, 40 degrees is a lot warmer than a lot of places at this time of the year, upstate New York and Chicago for example. So what do I do on days like these, besides going to the gym, reading books and watching TV, TFC—the Filipino Channel? 

On a wintry day like this, I find myself being nostalgic especially when I looked at the bare branches of the trees at our backyard through the glass wall from the computer station downstairs. Maybe that’s why we have winter to give us time to reflect. Somehow moment like this always brings me back to my youth. And when fortified with songs, like Let Me Call You Sweetheart and Stardust on the background where else one could travel to but back to memory lane.  I don’t know about you but in my case it seems there’s only fond memories of those good old days, especially the high school years. Even when disaster struck, like when the entire community was flooded with water rising four to six feet above the first floor of our homes the memories coming to me are of happy times. I remember roaming around the neighborhood in a swimming trunk helping the neighbors and had gotten into some mischievous situations (secret) and that was fun too. It was so much fun that we looked forward to the next flood, and flooding is a yearly occurrence in the Philippines.

I also find myself thinking of you and the happy moments we shared, the Philippine vacation, the high school class and family reunions, the wedding anniversary, and holidays spent together.  I just want to say that I am thankful for having the chance to spend good times with each and everyone on this mailing list.  I wish you all a happy and blessed yuletide season.  I love you all.

Tiger in the Woods
Ely

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

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