Remembering Lolo Julio’s loving presence
November 2, 2003 | 12:00am
My maternal grandfather, Lolo Julio, passed away when my mother and her other siblings were in their teens. Lolo Julio succumbed to a heart attack shortly after his 50th birthday. After coming home from a Knights of Columbus function, he checked on his eight children in the study room before going to his room. It was my mom’s sister, Tita Liclic, who wanted to use the weighing scale in his room the following morning, who found him. At first, it was as if her dad was just asleep but instinct told her something was amiss. Lolo Julio’s hand was clenched on his chest. He was still in his bathrobe and the shirt he wore the night before lay in a pile nearby, soaking wet. His eyes were half-open and he was deathly still. The medical examiner later surmised that he must have had an attack in the wee hours of the morning. Up to this day, however, nobody could understand how Tita Liclic found the door unlocked when they all heard him lock the door the night before.
Lola Carmen then was unfortunately out of town on business. Her children thought it best to just send her a telegram urging her to come home immediately as something had happened. It shattered her to see her beloved in a coffin when, just days before, they were exchanging beautiful love letters. My mother remembers seeing Lola Carmen collapse to the floor, helpless, painful tears streaming down her face. From the day he died until she breathed her last, there was no other man for her. He was the love of her life and vice versa. Lola Carmen used to tell us that she had a gnawing feeling he had already left her even before she was informed of his death when she saw a huge black butterfly following her constantly while in Manila.
The only images I have of Lolo Julio are those I see in the many photographs randomly scattered around Lola Carmen’s house in Cebu. He was a dashing man – six feet tall, dark-skinned, extremely manly, very handsome. He was also a gifted conversationalist and speaker, fluent in both Spanish and English. Lolo Julio was known as a very strict man, a staunch disciplinarian – perhaps because of his military background – and he gave prime importance to the value of time and education. He was a stickler for good grades, and had his children follow a specific time each day for studying. He enjoyed it immensely when they were active in school plays and programs.
Although Lola Carmen never verbally admitted it, people close to her would say that a part of her died when Lolo passed away. She somehow lost some zest for living although she never became bland because that was one thing she would never be. The most noticeable change was when she suddenly lost her passion for dressing up and personally redecorating the house – two things she used to enjoy a lot. She shied away from social functions and just took care of the children. While she didn’t discourage them from joining school activities, she deemed it more important that they knew how to pray and that they developed a close relationship with God.
Years after my lolo’s death, my Tito Gabby and Tito Rico were required to join a play for the school’s foundation day. Days before the play, the seamstress tasked to make the boys’ costumes called to say that the material lacked several more yards and it was important that they get the material because there was a deadline to meet. But this didn’t upset the boys. I surmise Lola Carmen felt the same way. Days rolled by and both costumes and program were forgotten.
A couple of days before the school’s foundation day, the seamstress showed up, holding a box that contained my uncles’ costumes. Puzzled, Lola Carmen asked the seamstress how she made the costumes when there wasn’t enough material. The seamstress replied that a tall, dark and handsome middle-aged man who came in a white car had been kind enough to give her the exact amount she needed. Feeling it was Lolo Julio, Lola Carmen showed the seamstress a picture of her late husband. The latter confirmed that the man on the picture and the one who went to her shop were the same person. Oh, and yes, Lolo Julio’s car was a white Chevy.
There were two other instances when Lolo Julio made his presence felt. One was when my mom was in bed, still wide awake. She heard what sounded like footsteps (in the exact same way Lolo Julio walked) approaching her room from the hallway. Scared by the creaking wooden floor, she hid under the sheets. The footsteps momentarily stopped by the doorstep, then she heard the door open and the footsteps continued all the way to the foot of her bed. Trembling, my mom started to pray the Apostle’s Creed when she felt someone gently stroke her feet over the blanket several times, the way a parent would his child. She fell asleep still praying the Apostle’s Creed.
My mom’s eldest brother, Tito Manjo, who was closest to Lolo Julio, one time was going through a major heartbreak when Lolo Julio appeared to him in his room on his birthday. According to Tito Manjo, only the upper half of his body was clear, the lower half seemed hazy. Lolo Julio smiled at him and said "Happy birthday, Joy" (Joy was my Tito Manjo’s pet name). Incidentally, that room where he appeared to Tito Manjo was the same room used when Lolo Julio’s body was being prepared to lie in state.
My sister and I stayed in that same house where all this took place (when we stayed in Cebu for college) and together with our other cousins, we have had our own brush with what seemed like Lolo Julio’s ghost. Footsteps, doors closing and opening by itself, somebody swimming in the pool in the wee hours of the morning, a presence felt, perfume smelled. Whenever we would get scared, Lola Carmen would quickly comfort us, reminding us that all we had to do was pray for the departed souls. After all, she would add, a friendly ghost in the house is eons better than a real burglar in any shape and form. Hmm, as far as I’m concerned, I’d rather not have both.
To all Padre Pio devotees: There will be a healing Mass with the relic of St.Pio tomorrow, November 3, at the Spirit of Love Praise and Worship Catholic Renewal Community Hall, Manila Seedling Bank Foundation Inc. Compound, Quezon Avenue Ext. corner E. delos Santos Avenue, EDSA, Quezon City. Call 924-7001 to 02 for more details. At 6:30 p.m., there will be testimonies of those whose lives were touched by Padre Pio, spiritually or physically, followed by a healing Mass. Everyone is welcome to join.
Lola Carmen then was unfortunately out of town on business. Her children thought it best to just send her a telegram urging her to come home immediately as something had happened. It shattered her to see her beloved in a coffin when, just days before, they were exchanging beautiful love letters. My mother remembers seeing Lola Carmen collapse to the floor, helpless, painful tears streaming down her face. From the day he died until she breathed her last, there was no other man for her. He was the love of her life and vice versa. Lola Carmen used to tell us that she had a gnawing feeling he had already left her even before she was informed of his death when she saw a huge black butterfly following her constantly while in Manila.
The only images I have of Lolo Julio are those I see in the many photographs randomly scattered around Lola Carmen’s house in Cebu. He was a dashing man – six feet tall, dark-skinned, extremely manly, very handsome. He was also a gifted conversationalist and speaker, fluent in both Spanish and English. Lolo Julio was known as a very strict man, a staunch disciplinarian – perhaps because of his military background – and he gave prime importance to the value of time and education. He was a stickler for good grades, and had his children follow a specific time each day for studying. He enjoyed it immensely when they were active in school plays and programs.
Although Lola Carmen never verbally admitted it, people close to her would say that a part of her died when Lolo passed away. She somehow lost some zest for living although she never became bland because that was one thing she would never be. The most noticeable change was when she suddenly lost her passion for dressing up and personally redecorating the house – two things she used to enjoy a lot. She shied away from social functions and just took care of the children. While she didn’t discourage them from joining school activities, she deemed it more important that they knew how to pray and that they developed a close relationship with God.
Years after my lolo’s death, my Tito Gabby and Tito Rico were required to join a play for the school’s foundation day. Days before the play, the seamstress tasked to make the boys’ costumes called to say that the material lacked several more yards and it was important that they get the material because there was a deadline to meet. But this didn’t upset the boys. I surmise Lola Carmen felt the same way. Days rolled by and both costumes and program were forgotten.
A couple of days before the school’s foundation day, the seamstress showed up, holding a box that contained my uncles’ costumes. Puzzled, Lola Carmen asked the seamstress how she made the costumes when there wasn’t enough material. The seamstress replied that a tall, dark and handsome middle-aged man who came in a white car had been kind enough to give her the exact amount she needed. Feeling it was Lolo Julio, Lola Carmen showed the seamstress a picture of her late husband. The latter confirmed that the man on the picture and the one who went to her shop were the same person. Oh, and yes, Lolo Julio’s car was a white Chevy.
There were two other instances when Lolo Julio made his presence felt. One was when my mom was in bed, still wide awake. She heard what sounded like footsteps (in the exact same way Lolo Julio walked) approaching her room from the hallway. Scared by the creaking wooden floor, she hid under the sheets. The footsteps momentarily stopped by the doorstep, then she heard the door open and the footsteps continued all the way to the foot of her bed. Trembling, my mom started to pray the Apostle’s Creed when she felt someone gently stroke her feet over the blanket several times, the way a parent would his child. She fell asleep still praying the Apostle’s Creed.
My mom’s eldest brother, Tito Manjo, who was closest to Lolo Julio, one time was going through a major heartbreak when Lolo Julio appeared to him in his room on his birthday. According to Tito Manjo, only the upper half of his body was clear, the lower half seemed hazy. Lolo Julio smiled at him and said "Happy birthday, Joy" (Joy was my Tito Manjo’s pet name). Incidentally, that room where he appeared to Tito Manjo was the same room used when Lolo Julio’s body was being prepared to lie in state.
My sister and I stayed in that same house where all this took place (when we stayed in Cebu for college) and together with our other cousins, we have had our own brush with what seemed like Lolo Julio’s ghost. Footsteps, doors closing and opening by itself, somebody swimming in the pool in the wee hours of the morning, a presence felt, perfume smelled. Whenever we would get scared, Lola Carmen would quickly comfort us, reminding us that all we had to do was pray for the departed souls. After all, she would add, a friendly ghost in the house is eons better than a real burglar in any shape and form. Hmm, as far as I’m concerned, I’d rather not have both.
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