Grandmother

I spent some of my childhood days with my grandparents. A sixth grader that time, I did some house chores for them like fetching drinking water from the distant Libuacan Spring, scrubbing the molave floor with coconut husk and assisting in their corn mill near the old house. Every day, before the sun sleeps in its abode, grandma would always ask me to join her rosary, mumbling those Latin prayers in bent knees and gazing intently the holy figures in the altar. My grandfather on the other hand, while puffing white smoke from his rolled cigar in his honsoy, would coax me to sit beside him in the veranda before we sleep. He would then recall exploits of his younger days. He would oftentimes belt out Visayan songs and gamely show his little skill with English words. Last week, my family and I made a trip to my parents who now occupied the old, ancestral house. It was a short visit. We have to rush back to the city for our younger son’s enrollment. As my family speed for home, my eldest son confided to her mother. “Mommy, I saw a little woman in one of the rooms upstairs. But I couldn’t see her face.” My wife looked to my son through the mirror. “Oh maybe, it was the housekeeper.” My son edged closer to her in the front seat. “Nope, Fena was with you downstairs. And she was wearing a duster. Fena wouldn’t wear one like that.” I looked at the young boy and asked him. “What’s the color of the duster she was wearing?” He looked up, recalling, and replied, “Dirty white.” I looked at my wife in my side and my two sons at the back seat. “God bless her soul. That’s her favorite dress color. Son, it was my lola you saw.”

Treated this poor, dehydrated horse until the sun sat in its throne in the west - Thanks God, it went up in four limbs before the same sun shine its rays from the east!

Off the ground at Mati, Davao Oriental

"Bet you can withstand for two hours its coldness!" Libuacan Cold Spring, Tagbina, Surigao del Sur

"Beautiful, old house..." Lianga, Surigao del Sur; May 2015

"Great seafoods dining..." Erve Seafoods, Lianga, Surigao del Sur

After an hour drenching a herd of cattle with dewormer in a farm of my client, I heaved a sigh of relief finishing the tiresome job and finally escaping the scorching sun. I packed my things, and bidding my equally exhausted client, clambered to my vehicle. While I was cruising the road, I was caught suddenly of the idea of visiting another client whose dwelling I will be passing through. In his 70s, this client of mine was full of energy and zeal of life. Checking or medicating Loki, his adored black Labrador, will only take minutes. But our ensuing chitchat in his veranda, over cups of hot corn coffee, would take hours. Honestly, it takes patience listening to his political views and his reminiscence of his younger days. We would chorus in giggles and laughter when he would recount how he won the hand of his beautiful wife by first wooing her parents’ approval and by haranas, fetching water, and gathering firewood. I tell you, he retold it a million times! But I just gave an ear because I felt his loneliness for his long departed beloved. After seeing the familiar worn-out gate, I screeched for a halt. Alighting from the car, I don’t know but I have an eerie feeling when I pushed the door bell. I peered inside but no one seems to be in the house. Just as I was about to leave, a passing woman hailed me and said. “You are looking for the old man, sir? I am sorry sir, but he passed away a week ago.”

Bringing their produce...