Fruits of the father

When our family moved to a newly built house in 1975 in what was then Barrio Kapitolyo, Pasig, Rizal, my father Enrique C. Lolarga Jr. took to gardening with such passion. To this day, we feel his and God's providence in the fruits we harvest from those trees planted in the backyard. Above is a shot of the blooming rambutan tree. Below are bundles of unripe bananas for harvesting in a few more days.

Photos by Babeth Lolarga

Booboo the hipster lola, according to Joey Cobcobo

Joey Cob, as some friends and I call him, is a young artist who continues to leave his imprint, almost literally, in the Philippine visual art scene. He is in the 2012 roster of the Thirteen Artists Awards along with Kiri Dalena, Marina Cruz, Rodel Tapaya, among others.

He recently did a monoprint portrait of this blogger on handmade paper with edges crocheted by his mother who, like me, is also a grand-mother (Joey has two young sons). He visited me one Sunday afternoon towards my favorite hour of 4 p.m. at the Lolarga home in Pasig where women rule, a compliment there to my mom who is a great grandmother of three apo sa tuhod--Machiko Skye Susi, Kai Mykonos Fernandez and Jared Franco Susi. Joey Cob and I kept  missing one another, our skeds not coinciding for many months, even when we bumped into each  other in Baguio City after he researched his own lola's ancestry in the deeper parts of the Cordillera.

It was on my Lola Purang Lolarga's dining table that used to be in her house on M. Roxas, Lower Brookside, Baguio City (the three-storey house sold by her heirs sometime in the early 2000s) where Joey did his thing. The table was one of the few pieces of furniture saved and moved down to Pasig.   

I tried to capture on my trusty digicam Joey's process of working. That dining table is extra special to me. When the fledgling United Methodist Church in Baguio City still had no permanent site there, Lola Purang threw open the doors of her house to Sunday worshippers and the pastor used the table as an altar.

Joey also did a video of me talking about my lola and my own thoughts on what a grandmother's role is. I think he has edited my rambling mumblings down to 10 minutes or less.

I'm lola no. 94  (oooohhh, that makes me think of that danceable hit "Mambo No. 5") in his list, part of his 101 lola project. He has had previous shows of other grand-moms that include, among many already, Gilda Cordero Fernando, Araceli Dans, Anna Leah Sarabia, Ivi Avellana Cosio, Baboo Mondonedo, Deanna Ongpin–Recto, Elsie Kalaw Santos, Imelda Cajipe Endaya, Julie Borromeo, Mariel Francisco and so on.

So I found myself in this last batch (the heavens decreed the birth of Kai/Butones so I can, through sheer coincidence, though I believe like Einstein that God doesn't play dice with the universe, be  a part of this project--sabay sabi ng "Chos!"). When Joey began the project in 2010 and I watched him work on his monoprint of Gilda, he was disappointed to learn that  among my roles were working wife, imperfect mother and doting aunt/tita, not a grandma yet. He asked me if I knew of more unconventional lolas like Gilda and from the top of my head I rattled off the names of some friends and he took down notes. Diligent boy that he was and still is, he pursued those women, half courted them so they could sit for him.

So from Dec. 15 this year to sometime in January 2013, Joey's monoprint portraits of this blogger and some  grand-mamas I recommended to Joey (among them Julie Lluch, Neni Sta. Romana-Cruz, Karina Bolasco, Alma Cruz Miclat, Chit Roces) will be part of his solo exhibition called "Lola 101--4th part" at the BenCab Museum's Print Gallery on Kilometer 6 Asin Road, Tuba, Metro Baguio.

Here's a sneak preview.

Neni Sta Romana-Cruz, "Sweet 60"

Karina Bolasco, "KKK"

Babeth Lolarga, "Booboo the Hipster Lola"

Here are some production photos I took when Joey came a-calling at the Lolarga family's Pasig home where I'm part-time resident when not in Baguio. Joey plucked some greenery that I said I was partial to like the cypress (to symbolize the Baguio in my heart), the santan (the eternal, invincible summer of '84 when I dwelled long,  in a place far far from home, on what direction I wanted my life to take, and I chose Rolly Fernandez as my life partner) and a tiny purple flower (in Joey's interpretation, that's Butones).

The greens in our garden were mostly and originally planted by my father, the late Enrique C. Lolarga Jr., when we moved to Barangay Kapitolyo in 1975. The garden is maintained more or less as it is by my younger brother Dennis and dear Mom, the most a-go-go great grandma I know at 85 years old. BTW, she prefers to be called Mama Mermaid by her apo sa tuhod. 

Joey Cob studies portrait of Booboo to check what element is still missing (most probably a fallen screw on a side of her head).

By sundown " Booboo the Hipster Lola" is finished. I sense a deep karmic connection with Joey Cob, the kind that makes me not want to refuse him anything, including sitting still for a portrait. Perhaps he's the son I never had in this life, or the son I had in a past reincarnation. He does not call me Tita Babeth or even a plain Babeth but "Mama Bear."

Some photos by Babeth and Gigi Lolarga

The Other Writer in the Family Speaks Up

From cousin Enrique L. Romero Jr. in sunny California comes this letter, post-haste, after he viewed Maalala Mo Kaya's episode on his godfather, Dr. Enrique C. Lolarga Jr., a.k.a Uncle Junior. Enri, as my cousin is known to us, is father to Rica and Dino and husband to Trina "Pem" Jacob:

I am probably one of the last to see the movie since I had no access to The Filipino Channel. My thanks to Junic for providing the internet link after my frantic e-mail. Still, due to my un-techy-ness, it took numerous clumsy attempts nights thereafter before I finally got it. I hope that Junic could still send me a clear DVD copy once available so that the rest of us can watch it.

Whatever controversies certain dramatizations in the movie may have spawned, rest assured that those of us who knew him know better, and we believe that the movie achieved what we hoped it would--a lasting tribute to your father.

It bothered me whenever I hear that there were some who mistook his shyness and quiet ways as aloofness and arrogance, and I was always quick to rectify these mis-impressions when I catch them. I felt I knew him well enough to do so.

In the eighties when he was our company physician at Trans-Pacific Properties, we saw each other regularly and always retired to my office after the employee consultations to share stories and jokes. Perhaps, because we shared the same name, two seemingly serious individauls found themselves unabashed by their openness and laughter.

We also had our solemn moments, such as the time when Pem, Rica, Dino and I went up one weekend to Baguio following Lola's operation. Entering the hospital room, we found Uncle Junior alone gingerly attending to Lola. Later in the hallway, his shoulder drooped and his voice cracked when he told me that it was a quick open-and-close procedure because it immediately became apparent that the cancer has spread beyond cure and that only a few months were left. We were pleased that he rode with us that weekend back to Manila, and we stopped by Vilmar in Tarlac so that he can have what Pem distinctly remembers him saying as his favorite--tortang alimango. That ride home was pleasant, but there were some moments when Uncle Junior could not seem to find peace in the thought that through the years he always did the best he can for Lola.

Our most endearing moment with your father came after Dino, barely 3 years old, fell and hit his head on our bedroom floor one evening, and shortly therafter started vomiting and felt sleepy. We took him to the emergency room of GSIS hospital on East Avenue and later wanted to transfer him to St Luke's but were strongly advised not to by the resident physician. Anxious that this might be worse than anticipated, I phoned Uncle Junior to consult him but instead he insisted outright, despite the very late hour to take a cab and come. None of us slept that night because we needed to ensure that, until the x-ray results cleared him, Dino did not sleep, eat nor drink. And to partly quench his thirst, Pem will always remember your Dad for showing her how to moisten Dino's lips with her fingers and a wet towel.

Uncle Junior and I reminisced about a lot of things that night on the balcony. It is during these rare moments that you appreciate the depth of his emotions, the vastness of his heart, the kindness of his soul and his dedication to his calling. My anxieties were long gone by then because I felt what my mother did whenever we got sick as kids, how quickly these disappear by his mere presence, reassuring voice and untiring attention. I brought him back to Barrio Kapitolyo at daybreak, hugged him tight and, in near tears, thanked him and Auntie Nene. As always, he expected nothing, even detested any thought of it. His unselfish ministration always was his reward.

It was this bond and friendship that kept me going to the Heart Center each of those nights of January 1992. I could almost feel then his pain each time he had seizures, and my heart would quiver each time the doctors brought him back numerous times. On that Sunday, I remember my Mommy, who already arrived from Virginia, and I returning home from the hospital only to receive a phone call. We rushed back and still found him in his room with the attendants who had already wrapped him in white linen. I remember Mommy and I sobbing, calling his name and embracing him. A part of us left with him that day.

I have read all the e-mails and am so glad at the outpouring of affection for Uncle Junior. These are rare glimpses that otherwise would have remained unspoken, something often felt but seldom verbalized. We are able to finally express the tributes we could not utter in our grief at the time of his passing.

Looking back at my 57 years, I can only find a morsel of good decisions I have made. One was in 1979 to request your Dad to be our Ninong at our wedding. It was a role he played earnestly in the years to come, and it drew us closer to him as much as he already was to us, and probably to countless others, some of whom we may never know given the many he heeded to. I realized later on how extremely happy my Mommy was that the brother she admired and loved so much became our Ninong.

Our appreciation goes out to Auntie Nene and family for allowing, even enduring, your Dad's unending desire to pursue his laudable calling. Indeed, he was a blessing to many.

Warm regards,
Enri

Photo shows Enri as a boy in Baguio (first row, right) with his older brother Sonny and sisters Rose and Toots, his mother Pacita Lolarga Romero, his aunt and my mom Gliceria D. Lolarga and me.

Their Uncle Junior, Our Uncle Celso

From Lolarga cousins in the Philippines and an aunt in the US come these reactions to the “Maalaala Mo Kaya” episode last Saturday aired over ABS-CBN. These are mainly recollections of our Daddy, Enrique C. Lolarga Jr., known to them as Uncle Junior and Manong. Manang Nene is my mother, Gliceria D. Lolarga. My relatives' letters make me feel I’m sitting at his wake again, listening to these lovely memories

From Jocelyn “Jing” Lolarga-Deco, our cousin and daughter of Celso C. Lolarga and Josie Geslani:

“Alam mo we really felt so proud watching your dad's story at MMK last Saturday. My kids know Kimi and Ida, but they never knew Uncle Jr. Kako yun binabanggit na Celso is their Lolo. They were both really there for each other. Your dad was always around when Papa got sick or was hospitalized.

“We can really attest to Uncle Jr.'s service. It was as if he and Papa made it their commitment to make an impact on and improve the lot of those barrio folks.

“Wish though we were able to document those services, pati yung mga pag improve ng park and kalsada. Well, it's their legacy that counts here.
“
You should have seen your dad at work whenever he went to Canan Sur. The barrio folk somehow know that he has arrived with free medicine. And they would come in droves, and he would start treating them. No fanfare, no ceremony. To them, he was their lifeline to treatment of their illnesses. He would just quietly work away, examining each man, woman and child. He would calm and softly assure them they will get well.

“It was obvious he was really enjoying it because he would have so much medicine with him, yet he would take the bus to Dagupan.

“I hope you can give me a copy of the DVD. I intend to give them copies there of the show para sila rin, MAALALA rin nila si Uncle Junior.”

From Jose Mari G. Lolarga, Jing’s older brother:

“Like Jing, I was so proud for you guys, having Uncle Junior (who is my ninong sa binyag ) featured on TV. And MMK pa!

“I texted my friends, carpool and office mates to watch it. Several of them did, in fact! Our HR manager, who is a Hamada from Baguio, asked me Monday if I was related to Uncle Junior. And to think hindi ko siya na-text to watch it! He was elated to know relative ko pala yung na-feature.

“There were a lot of revelations while watching the show. I didn't realize he was almost run over by a car. But it did bring tears to my eyes , that scene with him in the living room came, about medicine being his 'calling.' A very simple mission in life, rare in these times we live in.

“I felt so much longing for them, Papa and Uncle Junior after. They were really close. I even texted our tenant-farmer who watched it. Kilala niya si Uncle Junior. I hope I can get a copy so I can give one to the people in Canan Sur. They benefited from your father's generosity. “

From Auntie Josie, mother of Mari and Jing Lolarga, comes this letter. She is now based in Roseville, California. The manong (elder brother) he refers to is Dr. Lolarga:

“Thanks for conjuring up the memories we all share of Manong. His precious quiet trips to Canan Sur in Malasiqui, Uncle Cel's little fort, were welcome treats for his little brother and the rest of the barrio folks who received his full medical attention free of charge. They would trek to our nipa hut to have their blood pressure checked and linger on to chat with the doctor, asking a lot of simple questions pertaining to their medical issues. They could not afford to make trips to a doctor who charged fees.

“I remember that after he had saved enough drug samples to bring, he would take the bus to Dagupan and excitedly hop into our jeep for the rugged ride home. He spent his last New Year there, playing tong-its with Uncle Cel and Julius. He came out mostly winning!

“The story was not only a tribute to him but also to Manang Nene for rallying behind Manong and you, her children, so that you could get education for your own eventual use.

“When I go back to the Philippines and Malasiqui to retire next year, let's picnic in Canan Sur and plant a fruit tree in honor of Manong Junior, a testimonial to his ‘rooted-ness’ to his principles and mission.

“In behalf of my three munchkins, Mari, Jing and Julius and their children, I send each one of you my love and prayers.

“Honestly, I would have wanted to post this in your blog, but I don't know how to. This is an ooops moment for a senior citizen, no matter how computer literate I claim to be."

Photo shows the Lolarga family of Pepin street, Dimasalang, Sampaloc, Manila. Uncle Celso stands far right on the second row; Daddy stands second from left on the same row. Complete tagging/caption to follow in my Facebook. Photo shared by ERLINE VALDELLON MENDOZA from her IPhone

Naalaala Nila si Uncle Junior

From the cousins (Lolarga side) scattered in North America came these reactions to "Diary," the recent episode of the ABS-CBN television program "Maalala Mo Kaya," based on the life story of Enrique C. Lolarga Jr. He was better known to them as Uncle Junior. The Lollikins referred to are his wife and children.

From Erline Valdellon Mendoza of McLean, Virginia:

"MMK was recently added to our ‘must know’ set of acronyms. Rudy and I and Mommy and Beng drove to Maryland to watch MMK last Saturday at Nini’s house since they subscribed to TFC.

"Maalaala mo kaya…Opo, naalaala ko ang kabaitan at kagandahang-loob ni Uncle Junior.

"Naalaala ko, the mornings when he came and checked on our Mommy after Papa died. Pinky reminded me when she visited us last May - when she and her siblings quietly and patiently waited in their car parked outside our gate in Little Baguio – before being dropped off at school when Uncle Junior came to see Mommy with his doctor’s bag – checked her blood pressure, etc.. Later, our Ninang Ening also consulted with him. Naalaala ko that those morning visits were very assuring and comforting to me as a young teenager.

"Ako – naalagaan din niya – can you imagine being almost 18 years old, starting college in UP, being more independent and taking care of my own hot bath and falling whole holding the caserola of hot water to the banyo – second (maybe third) degree burns on my face and neck – Eby rushed me to Trinity Hospital – before I knew it – Uncle Junior was there. Naalaala ko when he carefully put the dressing on my face and neck with the medicine and when he carefully removed it later. In his soft manner, he assured me that I was going to be ok. Naalaala ko, I did not even think of being concerned about my face. I started my freshman year in UP two weeks late and wore a scarf over my neck.

"Ayan, your Daddy, Kimi’s 'Lolo Daddy,' our Uncle Junior, so beloved, not only by family and friends but also by others not known to us.

"Maraming salamat for sharing your Daddy with us.

"Maraming salamat, Lord, for dear Uncle Junior.

"God bless the Lollikins! Our warmest regards to your Mommy!

"Take care always."

From Telly Lolarga Valdellon of New York City:
"yes, maraming salamat.

"the MMK episode was truly a tribute to uncle jr. & whoever watched it will learn something. no matter how life is there is something we can share to others. and that it'll make us happy.

"all of us (lolargas) have been under his care for a long time. from birth till we were working. no need for health insurance. we could always rely on uncle jr & no matter how sick we were, he was always calm & assured us we would be ok. home service pa.

"pinky & i studied in baguio together in lola's care, and i don't recall nagtigas ulo siya. hmmm? aside from uncle jr., im also proud of lola. she took care of us, too. alam ko na kanino nagmana si uncle jr. kay lola. i'm proud to be a lolarga.
as erline has said, thanks for sharing ur dad to us, lollikins.

From Ramon L. Romero Jr., better known to us as Sonny, comes this email from Windsor, Ontario, Canada:

Today is Sunday 4:30pm . Yesterday at noon Baby and I had lunch before we watching the tele-movie about Uncle Junior’s diary. As we were having lunch, I told Baby that I'd bet that it wwould be about the vow that he took after medical school that he would help the sick and those who would ever need his services. Baby reminded me about Uncle Junior’s letter which had written us when Junic lived with us briefly in Windsor. Baby remembers how touching it was and how appreciative and sincere his words were which ended with 'Thank you for taking care of my Junic.'

"As we began to watch the movie, the scene where he said what would be happier than to fulfill life’s mission brought a tear to my eye. There were more scenes like that until Baby and I emptied Nanay’s box of tissue. The scene where they were playing mahjong, I still remember as a young boy. Now I understand.

"I have always respected Uncle Junior and Auntie Nene, how they were able to raise a big family, and I admire them more for their forgiveness and the sacrifices they made.

"I called Junic after watching the movie and told him the scene when he got home was probably when he was out with Ferdi and Melito. Uncle Junior did not have a moustache, and he was better-looking than Christopher de Leon, but kidding aside he did us proud in his portrayal of our Uncle Junior.

"I will watch the movie a second time. It will be a few days before I feel normal again. We did not have a MMK party here in Windsor, but I felt like we had one.

"Love and regards to all,

"Sonny"

Response from Daddy's pet, my youngest sibling Gigi:
Dear Cousins,

"Thank you so much for all your kind words about Daddy. I'm sure wherever he is, he is at peace and overwhelmed by the thought that he was able to touch our lives in many ways.

"At a young age I already knew that Daddy was not ours alone. That we share him with other people, too. Sometimes it was difficult to understand, but as MMK creatively put it in one of Christopher de Leon's lines: 'Hindi na niya kailangang ipaalam kung ano ginagawa ng kanang kamay sa kaliwang kamay.' He never owed us any explanation; what he left behind said it all.

"Maraming salamat sa pag-gunita sa lahat ng kabutihang ibinahagi niya sa inyong lahat. Life is short indeed. It is never enough to fulfill one's aspirations. But all the kind words, the sharing of one's gift of talent and love shall sustain the lives of other people he left behind.

"Again thank you and may we never forget Daddy's legacy to us, his children...and that definitely includes all of you, dear cousins. May we learn to live following his example, even in our own little ways.

"Love & prayers,

"Gigi"

Inset photo shows Eric and Pinky Lolarga with our Lola Purang (Telesfora C. Lolarga) at the old family residence in Lower Brookside, Baguio City, in the 1960s.

Top photo is the last taken of Dr. Lolarga alive (in striped shirt and dark glasses) and together with his children, grandchildren and sons-in-law taken in Pasig City, July 1991, after he survived his first heart attack.

Pahabol from Rose Romero de los Reyes, the oldest grandchild of Lola Purang and Daddy's oldest niece on his side; she is based in Ontario:

"Uncle Junior introduced me to a hobby of caring for love birds. He encouraged me to raise love birds, which i did. I was able to come up with 16 different colors of love birds which I later sold to pet shops in Manila. Your Dad really loved pets and nature. this is why I miss him."

I'm a Bipolar Bear, and I'm Lovin' Every Minute of It

Some members of my immediate family are reacting (expectedly) in a hostile fashion to the airing of our family's story in Maalaala Mo Kaya’s Father’s Day episode “Diary.” Tell me about it, I can hear you saying.

One sister said, how come there are twists here and there bordering on fictional story-telling? There are other variations of these comments, and I’m just about ready to literally throw the new books on creative non-fiction and old volumes on New Journalism at these persons.

What I haven’t counted on is the outpouring of congratulatory text and Facebook messages. Although my dear kid brother Eric’s condition was handled sensitively, my own private hell from early childhood to adolescence, all the way to mid-adulthood was not tackled. But then I’ve long ago promised and submitted my essay on the family disease—bipolar disorder—to Dr. Margarita Holmes. She has it in her files to be put out in a volume someday.

Just so to appease these family members who think I haven’t come clean with my own occasions of mania and depression, here’s my daily maintenance dosage (how more open can I get about this?):

Depakote Sodium extended release, 500 mg.;

Rivotril, 2 mg. ;

And for the nights when I twist and turn, I take Dormicum, 15 mg.

Again I have to thank my father, Enrique C. Lolarga Jr., M.D., for seeing me through difficult phases in my life. He it was who brought me to Dr. Leonardo Bascara in college when the first waves of seemingly overwhelming depression left me floundering. To these other psychiatrists, I owe a debt of gratitude that can never be fully paid: Dr. Elizabeth Rondain, Dr. Lourdes Vera Lapuz and currently, Dr. Gilda Manalo Wong of the Baguio General Hospital and Medical Center.

Also being part of a twice-a-month Sufi mediation group, an aquarelle society and a Saturday prayer group led by Oscar and Toottee Pacis have helped calm me.

Happy now?

My consolation after the MMK episode is this message from writer Gilda Cordero Fernando: “Anyway, all the bipolars I’ve met are much more interesting than the normals.”

Photo shows Dr. Lolarga leading his kids in singing the theme from The Sound of Music

I've Never Sung Enough for My Father

Going through my friends' Facebook notes about their own fathers today, I couldn't stop the tears from filling my eyes.

I realized that yes, my previous piece on Tatay Rolly, the father of my daughters Kimi and Ida Fernandez, now reads like an exercise in evasion although I took great pains to wake up early this Sunday to compose it.

Being the firstborn of eight children and the one on whom Daddy lavished the most attention, I find it difficult to identify with those who rebelled against male authority figures in their families.

Whatever rebellious streak and unmanaged anger I still have has my Mom and all she stands for (traditional Roman Catholic piety, conformity, holding down a steady job, being beholden to one's employer no matter how much sh_t is thrown one's way, being fussy about neatness and order in the house, a judgmental character, etc.) as its focus.

So when my beloved Dad died, I felt like I lost both an arm and a leg. Baldado talaga. Mahirap na nga mabuhay sa mundo, mawalan ka pa ng kakampi.

So here's to you, Dad, and all the tenets you lived by: keeping your head low and out of the limelight, kindness to those who have less in life, a pared-down lifestyle, rage at any form of injustice (call it a return to your original Protestant faith). You and your mother, Telesfora Cariño Lolarga, are, and will always be, my heroes.

Photos show Babeth at age two being held by her father, Enrique C. Lolarga Jr., in 1957 and at one month in 1955