This week’s winner
MANILA, Philippines - Aileen C. Ibañez is a high school teacher of Cagayan National High School Tuguegarao City, Cagayan. “I love reading and writing and I always aim for my students to see the significance of those skills in learning. Hence, I am very particular with the materials they read in class, and their reading and writing assignments.” In 2011, she was the first place winner in the Civil Service Commission Essay Writing Contest.
Calixto. That’s his name. We fondly call him “Third.” He is the third-generation of Calixtos in the clan. More than his name, his simplicity and candor struck me the first time I met him.
Our friends often wonder how we “click” when our personalities stand on opposite poles. Third is friendly, outgoing and fun-loving. I am shy, serious and silent. While Third is the life of the party, I am contented to sit back and watch along the sidelines. He loves sports. I am as athletic as a tree.
But surprisingly, we get along well. Our ability to appreciate simple things in life is our foundation. Third’s excellent sense of humor brightens even my darkest moods after a long, tiresome day in school. He showed me how to enjoy what I used to dismiss as “usual, unremarkable and unexciting.”
It was in Third’s company where I learned to go out strolling around the plaza, picking on fish balls sold on food carts that line up the street, or savoring our favorite pancit at a local panciteria. Lately, I understood the F1 Grand Prix under his tutelage. We began a “real, remarkable and rejuvenating” tradition.
We fell in love.
Our story reminded me of Oscar, a memorable character in Junot Diáz’s The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. Oscar is a sci-fi geek whose quest for love becomes his ultimate dream. Being an overweight nerd, he endures persecution from his peers. Reading and writing about science fiction heroes serve as his niche where he hides himself from the taunting eyes of the world. However, Oscar pins his hopes for happiness on the day he would finally find love.
Third and I found that kind of love Oscar was looking for.
Our relationship blossomed into something like Elizabeth Gilbert described in her book Committed: “Every couple in the world has the potential over time to become a small and isolated nation of two creating their own culture, their own language, and their own moral code.”
Our universe-in-the-making must start somewhere. So we planned a wedding to seal our fate together, and interlace our lives into one beautiful journey. We began making arrangements. We were ecstatic and excited like any other couple planning their future together.
Then, Third began feeling weak and getting sick. Our family physician referred him to a cardiologist at the Philippine Heart Center for a conclusive diagnosis.
I was in high spirits over our wedding plans that my mental radar failed to pick up the vital signs of a storm brewing over our horizon.
“No need to panic.” I comforted myself. Third will be all right, and this is just a routine check-up.
But was it?
What turned out was truly unexpected.
“He has an ascending growth of the aortic root of the heart. It is a congenital condition,” his doctor finally commented.
Third’s aorta is unusually large. Through the years, he developed aneurism the dilation of the aorta, which is the heart’s biggest artery. Only an expensive yet risky surgery can correct the malady. The moment the aorta reaches a critical measurement, he’s off to the operating table.
I was dumbfounded. I felt numb. I was devastated. My heart raged in anguish and disbelief. My mind was gripped with fear.
I tried to haggle for dear life. Denial led me to ask the doctor some futile questions. Sadly, the problem was irreversible. Surgery was inevitable. It was just a matter of time. The calm ticking of the clock churned my mind to race with a hundred and one thoughts all winding down to one question: What will I do?
I felt betrayed by fate. Oscar may have been in the same predicament every time his attempts at love ended in disaster; every time people laughed at him for being overweight; and every time heartbreak became his lot due to a curse called fukú. The curse haunted his whole family since their exodus to the United States to escape the clutches of the Trujillo dictatorship in their native Dominican Republic. The curse haunted Oscar for life.
Maybe, there’s a Filipino version of the fukú. Maybe it fell on me. Looking back at my track record of failed relationships, I was almost convinced that a curse was upon me. All my relationships began with the right foot only to end with me limping away heartbroken.
I saw two roads ahead of me. One led to a litany of sacrifices while the other toward freedom. If I took the first one, I knew that our marriage would be under a shadow of fear over an impending surgery. Was I prepared to put my heart on the line in case he loses this battle?
Meanwhile, the other road looked inviting. My road to freedom beckoned me to call it quits, and save myself from possible misery. I had to make a choice.
I prayed hard. I prayed like La Inca prayed for Beli’s safety. I prayed like La Inca begged the Holy Spirit to save Oscar from Ybón Pimentel the love of his life.
Oscar’s fatal love affair with Ybón spells his doom. Ybón is engaged to a military police captain; so, loving her is like jumping off a cliff. It means Oscar’s final destination. Yet, Oscar in his last writings claims that it is the start of his “real” life.
Though his sacrifice may seem insignificant and meaningless, or the product of a romantic mind gone wild, it is a defining moment for him. Oscar successfully assails and defies the fukú by finding love and persevering in it.
May 10, 2011. Just a year ago, Third and I ventured into “real” life together in a wedding ceremony witnessed by our relatives and friends.
I also found a way to circumvent and reverse my unhappy circumstance by casting my own zafa (counter spell). I said, “Attraversiamo,” an Italian word meaning, “Let’s cross over,” from Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love.
Crossing over means I approach our marriage with awareness and acceptance of the possible challenges of spending life with Third. But, for me, life is defined by the kind of choices we make, and the battles we choose to engage in.
I chose to hold on to the tinder box that sparks hope and happiness in me.
At present, Third’s aortic root remains miraculously unchanged which is surprising even to his doctors. Indeed, love and prayers prevail over adversities.
And love has made all the difference.