When Sonny gets blue

The then newlywed Romeros, Sonny and pretty Babes, in the Seventies Photo from Sonny's Facebook account

Another dearly beloved joined the Light at 5 p.m. Windsor time--Ramon "Sonny" Lolarga Romero, glass sculptor, husband, father, grandpop, cousin to a multitude of Lolargas, Romeros and Valdellons.

A few weeks ago, we, his cousins, learned that Sonny was bedridden, weighed less than a hundred pounds and was hardly taking in food. It was a matter of time and up to God's will. Meanwhile, my brother Junic in another part of wintry Canada gave updates on email to tell us how Sonny was faring. Then came the call for old photos of Sonny in what we thought was some kind of digital memorial album that his wife Baves was preparing for any eventuality.

The time has come for Sonny to be spoken of in the past tense. But he lives in these pictures of him as a babe on our grandfather Enrique Acosta Lolarga's knee and as a boy declaiming an oratorical piece at our grandmother Telesfora Cariño Lolarga's house in Lower Brookside, Baguio.

Lolarga ancestors. That's long-haired Sonny on Lolo Laki's knee.

The young orator

Sonny the graduate

Yesterday, my siblings and I hosted a bienvenida lunch at Cafe Juanita for Sonny's younger bro Henry, who's based in Los Angeles. Sonny was among the subjects of our conversation--how long he would last in what appeared to be a losing battle with cancer, what Henry would do in case the call came that Sonny was gone.

We grasped at glimmers of hope. Henry just had a conversation with his kuya wherein the ailing brother agreed to hang on until Henry could return to North America. Henry wondered if Sonny's tone could have meant he was being considerate and assuring up to the very end even if he knew he had little time left and just wanted Henry to enjoy his Philippine stay until next month, not encumbering him with death watch duty.

Now the Sonny memories are flooding back--his "Laugh-in" jokes at Christmas reunions when he had us in stitches, his being adept at the drums (he used to play in a band or combo as we called them in the Sixties, and, like Ringo Starr, he steadily played the beat and the rest of the musicians followed), his taking up Fine Arts at the University of the East and later producing marvelous glass sculptures of various animals in Canada.

Henry Romero, our honoree, on my right at yesterday's lunch

It's still a full moon, I think, tonight. I'll be looking at the moon, and I'll be seeing you, Sonny Boy