this story originally appeared in the philippine daily inquirer on March 4, 2000.
I must have been 6 or 7 years old when I started really noticing some things happening around me. I started to ask many questions about the origin of things I was seeing, hearing and touching. I was curious about almost everything. But of course, I enjoyed my innocence since I had my parents, my brother, my sister and my grandmother. I was given opportunities to explore and develop my skills and to gain the knowledge that would help me cope with the changing environment.
When I learned how to write and to think rationally, I also started to imagine many things about my future and myself. It was also then the time that I learned the reasons for my doubts and found the answers to some of my questions.
For many, having parents is enough to make the family whole. But I couldn’t imagine our family without my Inang, my grandmother who is also known as Ka Ata. She lives with us; the house where we live is actually her own.
How about my grandfather? I never saw him-not even his pictures. I don’t have a clear idea of how he looked. All I have is an image of him in my mind based on the descriptions given by Inang who is now 87 years old.
According to Inang, my Lolo was kidnapped during the Japanese occupation and no one ever saw him again. That was three generations ago and yet he continues to influence my life.
Inang told me she had a tumultuous love life. Because of politics, she didn’t have the freedom to choose her partner for life. Instead she was forced to marry her first husband, Jaime, since both their families belonged to the Nacionalista Party. Even before they entered adulthood their parents already arranged the marriage. And they had no choice but to obey the stupid custom.
Inang and Jaime lived together for a couple of years and had two children. Then they separated. She couldn’t force herself to love Jaime and one day she told him she was in love with Juanito.
Juanito’s family was affiliated with the Liberal Party. Over her parents’ vigorous objections, she followed her heart and lived with him. But since she was already married to Jaime, they couldn’t be married anymore. Out of their relationship, my father was born.
Lolo came from a prominent family in Antipolo. My great grandfather, Ambrosio, was the town mayor during the Spanish period. Inang said their family used to own hundreds of hectares of land and some plantations. They owned the Antipolo bus station and many other businesses.
When the Japanese came, they arrested all the rich and influential personalities in town.
The conquerors captured Juanito and his brother who were managing the family’s businesses.
Life was hard, but Lola turned down Jaime’s invitation to live with him and his new family. She chose to raise her three children by herself.
Inang once told me that my father looks exactly like my Lolo. I suppose she remembers my Lolo through my father.
Going back to her stories, I imagine how different my life would have been if my Lolo was still alive. I would have my own car, probably with a driver and my own bank account. I would be living in a big house filled with luxurious things like those in our relatives’ houses.
Instead all I have are regrets and a feeling of hopelessness. The assets that my father was supposed to inherit now belong to the sons and daughters of my Lolo’s sisters. Since my father was born out of wedlock, he has no right to inherit the property of his father.
My brother, my sister and I often feel discriminated by some of our relatives on my father’s side, particularly the older ones who know the reality of our origin. If Lolo was still with us, he could have fought to give us his share of his family’s wealth.
Thanks to Inang who keeps telling us her stories and to my father who insists on attending every function of the clan, we know where we came from. Even though my father inherited nothing from my grandfather, I am still glad to bear their illustrious name.
Still there are times I imagine that my Lolo is alive. He may be inside a hospital suffering from amnesia or the Japanese soldiers who survived the war might have brought him to Japan. No one knows for sure that he is dead. I entertain the faint hope that someday we will finally see each other.