The business of being an exceptional First Family
August 30, 2004 | 12:00am
At the funeral Mass for former First Lady, Luz Banzon-Magsaysay on August 21, the celebrant, Fr. Dennis Meim SDB, obviously one of the many recipients of her love, said that indeed she had lived up to the true meaning of her baptismal name "Luz," which in Spanish means light. She was always the "light that brought joy" to her children, her parents and siblings. He explained how, to the "dashing President Ramon Magsaysay, she had been the special flame that inspired and sparked his passion for life in the service of a grateful nation."
As I listened to the eulogies from her son Jun Magsaysay, daughter Mila Magsaysay-Valenzuela and other relatives, and heard the word "love" from every eulogy delivered, I could not help remembering those famous words on love: "One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life – that word is love."
No wonder she became the widow of the country’s most loved president. For close to half a century after her husband’s death, she kept his memory close to her heart, and nurtured his extraordinary dedication to his countrymen. Within the quiet ambience of a simple home environment, she dedicated herself to her charities quietly without ceremony or fanfare, and kept her arms open to the same troubled Filipino that she had met during her husband’s incumbency, absolutely without guile.
As the nation’s First Lady, she had led a life of outstanding simplicity, quiet dignity and extraordinary integrity.
Fr. Meim pointed to the fact that many Filipino husbands today experience undeniable pressure from the demands of a spouse, always in want. As the wife of a president, Luz Magsaysay made sure her husband acted decisively, freely, without regard to any family or business considerations of any kind.
Together as the presidential family then, their concern for the plight of the poor was paramount. The gates of Malacañang were indeed flung open for the common man.
Celebrating the dignity of the Filipino and knowing very well what they felt and needed, Fr. Meim was right when he said that the members of the Ramon Magsaysay family were convinced that "The Filipino is worth living honorably for."
The Ramon Magsaysay family was a happy First Family. It was an exceptional presidential family. Picking up therefore from a husband’s legacy of goodness and service, one cannot help but imagine how Luz Magsaysay, treasuring his legacy, nurtured and made certain that their children nurtured it too, and passed it on to their own children.
At about the time Mrs. Magsaysay’s passing was announced, I came across a line from an inspirational book given to me by a friend who had arrived just the day before. Being apropos, I’d like to quote the passage:
"One is happy where one is devoid of any disturbing pretenses as a result of one’s own convictions that the necessary ingredients of happiness are: simple wants, simple tastes, simply love of work, simple fortitude to fight for what’s right. And simply, a conscience that is clear. These are the simple gifts that elevate man to the highest points of happiness."
After her husband’s tragic death in 1957, Luz Magsaysay had to provide for the family. The lovely daughter of the prominent Banzon family from Bataan married the young Ramon Magsaysay from Zambales, who was at that time a transportation executive in his town. He built a simple house on Arellano St. in Singalong, a nice congenial neighborhood where the children grew up. Money was hardly a subject talked about in their family. It was simply not an important matter to be discussed. They had all managed to live within their means.
In his eulogy, Jun said his mother represented three things to them: a great abiding faith, a lot of hope always, and a deep and immeasurable love. Luz Magsaysay had faith in the capacity of her husband to protect his children from difficulties of any kind. After he passed away, because of the fact that she had always personified hope, just the presence of their mother gave them boundless security. Her love for her family was immeasurable, and the love and caring she gave to people in trouble that sought her help was admirable by the very simple and quiet process of such an extension of help. No publicity, no ceremony, no one can ever question the sincerity that went with it.
I can understand the deep sorrow I saw in Mila’s eyes, the utter helplessness of grief that engulfed her, as we all sat down and waited for the people that were milling around the mausoleum at the North Cemetery.
I have known Jun Magsaysay for a long time. I know him as a public servant devoid of pomp and ceremony. As a successful businessman in the cable TV industry before he entered politics, we partnered in the effort to de-monopolize and liberalize the cable TV environment. He was the sponsor and the guiding light in the crafting and passage of the E-commerce law. As was typical, he did this simply and quietly. Though bearing his father’s name, he inherited his mother’s self-effacing ways. I have for that matter never seen Jun, whether on television or in person, lose his cool or shed his poise to express his displeasure or anger.
And I have never seen Jun Magsaysay in grief. After I threw my white rose at the coffin of his mother as it was lowered into the tomb, and as strode back to my chair, I saw Jun seated, his face red with emotion, hand tightly clasping the hand of his wife Marilou, anguish written on his face.
It was Jun who had told me earlier that after his father’s death, the house in Singalong was the home they went back to. Full of memories of their childhood, it had been a convenient home close to La Salle where Jun had his initial schooling, and to St. Scholastica’s College where his sisters, Teresita and Milagros studied, where I first met them.
It was the same simple house. No transformation into an ornate grandiose ancestral home happened, no counterfeit glorified house to pass off as one’s ancestral home. The house in Wack-Wack was built largely with the help of friends. The late well-known architect, Gabby Formoso, for instance, donated his skill and services.
Now it stands in quiet dignity, absent the lovely lady of the house, Luz Banzon-Magsaysay. It was here where in quiet grief, she bore the loss of her eldest daughter Tessie. It was here where Mila continued to live with her, through her marriage to Atty. Cesar Valenzuela, through all of her life except the two years she was in school in the United States. It was here where a former First Lady, still very lovely, enjoyed the company of her grandchildren led by an adoring grandson, Paco, whom I have known quite well being in the telecommunications business.
And it was here where Luz Banzon-Magsaysay, in great and solemn peace, met her Maker. She was indeed the light that led her family to go about the extraordinary business of being an exceptional First Family.
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