When I celebrated my 91st birthday recently, so many of my friends asked me that question. And I answered, “Wonderful!”
And for me it was truly wonderful because for almost a year I was sick and I thought I would not be able to celebrate another birthday. But I did and there I was with all my friends around me, long time friends whom I have known since we were all so very young. And new younger friends who have added so much to my later years.
Seeing them all did make me feel great. But somehow all throughout the luncheon I kept seeing double.
No, nothing is wrong with my vision. Dr. Tolentino, the famous eye doctor, and his able colleague Dr. Veloso have assured me of that.
It was my memory. That is not failing either. On the contrary, it was too active and I kept remembering so many things that happened decades ago.
I looked at Lorna Laurel, radiant in her lovely kimona and I see her as a tiny girl, cute as a doll with her light brown hair in long ringlets, as she clambered into the school bus that we used to ride up and down the hills of old San Juan. She was five years old in kindergarten and I was 12 in seventh grade! That is how long we have known each other!
I sit with my cousins Helena Benitez and Nena Liboro Benitez who represented the Benitez clan and I see Helen’s father, my Tio Conrado, who my own father used to say was not only his brother but his best friend. I look at Nena and I see her husband, my favorite cousin Tom, and a nicer person would be hard to find, always smiling, always optimistic. I remember going with him to a diplomatic party held in a high building and he said to me with his characteristic big smile, “Look around you, cousin, we are on top of the world!” and that is the way he seemed to feel all the time as if he were actually on top of the world! It was sad to remember that he left this world too early.
That is the way remembering works. One remembers happy days and in quick succession the sadness comes in.
I see Zita Feliciano, looking so pretty in a white shift that she wore with a gold beaded kimona. “This is old, ancient!” she said when complimented. “They don’t make these things anymore.” I was happy looking at Zita and at the same time sad remembering her sister and my good friend, Eloi Yan, who had just passed away.
That is how my double vision worked. Even those who could not come for the party brought it on. Chitang Nakpil called to express her regrets. But, of course, it was a Wednesday and on Wednesdays Chitang presides as the Queen Bee at a regular luncheon gathering of journalists past and present and would be.
Chitang said when she learned about my recent illness, “Chito Madrigal had the same thing. She had a sore throat, she could not talk, she could not eat, she lost so much weight, and she died.” And I thought to myself, “Yes, I had exactly the same thing, only thank the Good Lord I did not die!”
Another death in her family prevented Ising Madrigal Vasquez from coming. Her sister Pacita Madrigal was gravely ill and died a few days later. I remembered Pacita as she was when we were both much younger. Actually I first met Pacita when she attended my 18th birthday party a long, long time ago – 73 years ago to be exact.
It was when Pacita was a very popular Senator that we shared many almost historical experiences. When President Magsaysay died in a plane crash in Cebu, I was in Malacañan with Pacita and it was she who suggested that we enter the private chambers. There we saw the grieving First Lady, Luz Magsaysay, quietly crying, her hands covering her beautiful face.
One time when President Garcia had taken over the presidency, I was with Inday Garcia on a trip to Cebu and when we landed, a horde of Pacita’s fans surrounded me screaming, “Manang Pacita! Manang Pacita!” while I was frantically screaming back, “No! No! I am not Manang Pacita!” When I told Pacita about it she laughed and said, “Why don’t you campaign in my stead in the South, while I campaign in the North!” I said, “Yes, if you will give me your jewels and your New Yorker dresses to wear!”
And again the double vision. I thought of an old friend who could not be present, Millie del Rosario. On the same day my invitation was sent to her, her husband Monching had just died. And I saw Millie again in my mind when she was one of the campus belles in the old UP on Padre Faura and all the UP guys thought it was downright treachery for her to prefer Monching, a La Sallite!
Another former UP campus belle was Eva Kalaw, and again with my double vision I saw her striding around the old UP campus with Teddy Kalaw in tow to go to the shooting range where they used to practice sharp shooting, which was one of the many things they had in common. With them, my double vision saw Nina Puyat, Eva’s sister, Nina’s husband Gene Puyat, Luz Martel, Puring Gopengco and all the other Puyats who have passed on to the other world.
That is how my double vision worked, sending my mind see-sawing between the Present and the distant Past. The first thing I saw when I arrived at the Dusit for my birthday luncheon was a lovely flower arrangement for the center table. It came from Bea Zobel who was in Spain but had thoughtfully instructed her secretary to order special flowers. I remembered one of the most delightful trips I ever made was when Bea and I traveled together to Kathmandu some 25 years ago. We had a wonderful time but on the very last week I received the sad news that my 89-year-old mother was in the hospital seriously ill. It was very difficult to get a seat on the one plane that left Kathmandu only once a week and to make the connecting flight from Hong Kong to Manila. I was too distraught to solve the problem and it was Bea who quietly took over and made all the arrangements so I could get home in time to see my mother before she died. That is the real Bea Zobel. Many people think of her as The Woman who has Everything. She has that and more – she has a sincere, warm, compassionate heart, which is the greatest blessing of all.
I greet Rosie Osmeña Valencia, pretty in a kimona in her signature lavender and I remember her father, that wonderful old gentleman, Don Sergio Osmeña, and her mother Doña Titay, who were part of my own parents’ social group, when I was in my teens and twenties. In fact, Doña Titay was sponsor at my wedding 69 years ago along with Jose Abad Santos, my father’s close friend. The irrepressible Doña Titay was always the life of the many parties their group used to hold in our old family home in San Juan. One time she was swimming in the pool when my father came down all dressed up to go to his office. Before he knew it, Doña Titay had pushed him into the pool and there he was floundering in the water still fully dressed, with his eye glasses on and the morning paper clutched in his hand! And Doña Titay was laughing and laughing!
Techie Velasquez, another former San Juan neighbor, came to greet me, and I remembered her as a young matron wheeling her first baby in a carriage when she used to visit my mother next door. Techie said, “Do you know that that tiny baby is now a grandmother? Her daughter has just presented me with my first great grandchild!” Incredible!
That is how it feels to be 91 years old. The Past is always mixed up with the Present. Memories always intrude into Present realities. There is sadness for friends who have long passed away, there is nostalgia for the days when all of us were young together, but there is always gratitude for the dear lifetime friends who still are alive and well enough to celebrate with me.
On my 91st birthday I made two wishes. I texted my son asking him to reserve a unit for me on the top floor of the 40-storey condominium he is building. I also asked my grandson who is getting married in January to produce my first great-grandchild. My son texted me back, “I’ll give you your condo if you promise to be around to occupy it.” And about my second wish, my grandson promises to do his best!
I, in turn, have promised to stick around for as long as possible so I can see my birthday wishes come true.
So, dear friends, please do the same. You are invited to my 92nd birthday and my 93rd and my 94th! Let’s do our very best to be there!
“Grow old along with me; the best is yet to be”!