We have planned this for more than a year. My siblings and our respective families agreed to gather in the Philippines in August 2019 for two weddings: my nephew GJ’s in Davao on August 10 and my son Claude’s in Dumaguete on August 17. All our travel arrangements were finalized months before the trip, and we were all excited to go. But little did we expect that, in between these two weddings, there would be a funeral.
When I was asked to speak at the wedding reception, I told GJ (Graciano Jose B. Pal) and his bride, Kristel Advincula Punu that this was a wedding I will not miss for whatever reason. I talked about how significant this wedding was for me.
Sixty-six years ago, a man from the Visayas named Graciano Pal came to Mindanao to marry the love of his life. That man was my father. He came to Kidapawan to marry my mother, Josefina de Vera, in 1953.
When my father died in 1991, I was distraught. I have not done anything to perpetuate his legacy and good name. The least I could have done was to name one of my sons Graciano, for the future generations to remember him by. I could have, but I did not. For a long time, I was overcome with a deep sense of guilt. Until years later, when my brother Alex had a son. Even without my prodding or suggesting, but merely out of his good sense, he named his son Graciano. I was silently relieved.
Now, this young man named Graciano Pal (GJ), also from the Visayas, has come to Mindanao to marry the love of his life, Kristel. How could I miss this occasion and not attend the wedding of the one who would carry on the name of my father? I had to be here, and here I was.
I ended my talk with a wish that their marriage would be long and blissful, and that they would have many children; and that if ever they would have a son (I could not suggest it but just silently hoped), maybe, maybe they would name him Graciano.
This was a wedding that was particularly emotional for me (as was my daughter Minji’s wedding in 2013). Someone who was supposed to be here, someone who over the years wished to be at the wedding of her children, was not here.
My wife did not see her two younger children get married. But Claude’s wedding (as did Minji’s and Dax’s) had my wife’s blessing because, before she closed her eyes for eternity, she came to know the special persons her children were with. Dax and Margaret were already married and had a daughter, Natalie. Minji and Jansen were already dating. Claude and Deej were not an item yet, but Jen saw how intimat
e they were. She would smile seeing her children happy with their special someones, and whispered to me her wish that their future lives would be happy as well.
My son Claude’s wedding to Dorothy Jane Cediño (Deej) was the fulfillment of my wife’s dreams and wishes for her children.
As we were inside Brooks Place in Batinguel for the wedding reception, it dawned on me that Claude’s life has come full circle. We started our family in a farm a few meters behind this brand new facility, and it was here where Claude’s life began. He was conceived here (I remember that very well!). He grew up here, running around and climbing up trees carelessly. And now, here he is — enjoying the best day of his life, celebrating his marriage to Deej, and dancing, drinking and partying with total abandon — in a place of his past and present.
The two weddings went as planned, and were as happy and joyous occasions as we expected. But a week before, we were all grieving over the demise of my sister, Josefina Pal-Banogon. We knew she was sick, but we didn’t expect her to go that soon. Not when she, too, was excited at the prospect of attending the two weddings where she was supposed to be principal sponsor. Her funeral would take place on Thursday, in between the two weddings.
She was the second in a brood of four. She was the third in the family to be named Josefina, which started all the way from our grandmother. Lola Josefina de Vera (1901-1995) gave birth to a daughter in 1932 and named her Josefina, nicknamed Nena. In 1955, Mamang Nena had a daughter which she also named Josefina, nicknamed Nenita (the little Nena). So, my sister has always been called Nenette by the family and close friends.
The family has relocated several times over the years on account of the changing work assignments of our parents. The family moved from Cotabato to Negros Oriental when Nenette was around six years old. She started school (1st and 2nd grades) in Canlaon Central School. Then the family moved to Dumaguete, where she enrolled at Piapi Elementary School for her 3rd and 4th grades. Our parents found it prudent to enroll her and me (Joel) in the public schools to stretch their meager income. But when I was about to go to high school, our parents decided to enroll all of us in Silliman University. The money was either uncertain or not there, but our parents were determined to bite the bullet. After all, the ultimate goal was for all the children to go to Silliman University, where both parents were alumni. So, I enrolled in high school, Grace in 1st grade, and Alex in Kindergarten. Nenette was 5th grade, and being a newcomer at SU elementary her classmates found her name (Josefina) cute but a little too long. So her close friends gave her the shorter nickname of Pines, which has stuck throughout the rest of her life.
Pines graduated at the SU High School in 1972, after which she enrolled in the SU College of Education for her degree in home economics. Right after graduation, she was hired to work at the SU Cafeteria as assistant manager — her first job which she cherished and which endeared her to her coworkers. When the Cocofed dorms were opened at SU Farm, she was hired to be the dormitory manager. This was an altogether different experience, having to deal with students, their parents and faculty, but she found the challenges both spiritually fulfilling and professionally uplifting, which would prepare her for the rest of her life. When there was an opening for a home economics teacher at the Negros Oriental High School, she grabbed the opportunity for a stable lifetime job.
Along the way in all these work assignments, Pines developed an intimate relationship with a childhood acquaintance who was a neighbor in Piapi. In 1983, she and Eduardo Banogon (Edy) decided to tie the knot. The happy, blissful union resulted in the birth of two sons: Roy Edward and Ron Mikhail. Her caring, motherly demeanor has always been apparent — she was a devoted wife to Edy and a doting, protectively loving mother to Roy and Mik. Roy would eventually get married to Ina Martinez, and would give Pines her first grandson, Blake, who has since been the apple of her eye. Just being around Blake or talking to him on Skype (now that Roy’s family is in the U.S.) has always brought an unmistakable glow on her face, and would be enough for her to drop anything she was doing or ignore anyone else around her.
What was planned as two weddings had become two weddings and a funeral. I wouldn’t say that the two happy occasions were marred by an unhappy one. If at all, the funeral was a significant punctuation of our whole week of family gathering. As Christians, we were brought up to think of death as an opportunity for thanksgiving — for the life of my sister which she so unselfishly and lovingly shared. Nenette (Pines) was compassionate and solicitous. She was extravagant with her love and caring. There was a reason all her nephews and nieces call her Mama (as opposed to Tita). She was Mama Nenette to everyone.
Losing the physical presence of Nenette is sad. But our family is grateful that, while we lost her, we gained Kristel and Deej. They are now our Pals.
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