This episode might be called, ”Cousin Tony Brings Home a Bride”.
Nothing much happens in this episode, it is just impressions and thoughts of childhood memories
It is early afternoon in San Esteban in the late (?) 1950’s. I could not been more than 10 or 11 (see footnote 1). As with all memories of my life at that time, the air is shot with sunlight, suffused with a lazy, golden haze. Someone shouts – I do not know who – “Manong Tony has brought home his new wife!” – and we all troop to Auntie Merced’s house next door. I am perhaps standing at the wide doorway to the sala of the nipa hut, and I can see our sister Norma (who has long preceded Manong Tony to the Great Beyond) going directly to Manang Loring and greeting her with warmth.
The first thought I remember having is: How easy it is for women to connect with each other. For I can see Norma and Manang Loring talking animatedly as if they have known each other for a long time. But perhaps it is the occasion of a newlyweds’ homecoming, and there is no standing on ceremony, no social falsity here, only the comforting and welcoming embrace into the extended family of a new member. I cannot quite see where Manong Tony is in this memory. He hovers at the edge. He must be seated somewhere, perhaps over by the window overlooking the dusty road that winds along the seashore. I study Manang Loring and I see a fair bride with large dark eyes.
Then the second thought, unbidden, strikes me: How could Manong Tony win the hand of such a fair, young and beautiful bride? No, no, do not scowl - just laugh - at my impertinence. For even as a child, I knew Manong Tony to be ever so serious, rail-thin and seemingly older than his years, and I could not imagine him proposing to – much less being accepted by - such a young and comely lass. But, as they say and as I have read – and yes, if I may say so, as I have learned in my own experience (see footnote 2) – women are wise in choosing their partners, seeing beyond the false facades, unerringly sensing the true worth of a man beneath the, hmmm, unprepossessing, and sometimes even faulty, exterior.
After this ‘homecoming’ episode, we moved to Manila in 1958, and I remember my revised impression of your Mom some years later. This must have been during a holiday visit back to the old hometown, and by that time Edwin - and perhaps even you - had joined us in this world of joy and tears.
In that visit, I recall thinking, upon seeing your Mom: Oh, she has aged and been browned by the sun and been matured by motherhood. And I wondered if Manong Tony had been treating her right. I wasn’t sure of that last - until your Mom smiled, and on the instant I was reassured that he had been, for I could see once again, in the smile, flashes of that young, fair girl that Cousin Tony brought home to San Esteban on a golden afternoon a long, long time ago.
Nothing much happens in this episode, it is just impressions and thoughts of childhood memories
It is early afternoon in San Esteban in the late (?) 1950’s. I could not been more than 10 or 11 (see footnote 1). As with all memories of my life at that time, the air is shot with sunlight, suffused with a lazy, golden haze. Someone shouts – I do not know who – “Manong Tony has brought home his new wife!” – and we all troop to Auntie Merced’s house next door. I am perhaps standing at the wide doorway to the sala of the nipa hut, and I can see our sister Norma (who has long preceded Manong Tony to the Great Beyond) going directly to Manang Loring and greeting her with warmth.
The first thought I remember having is: How easy it is for women to connect with each other. For I can see Norma and Manang Loring talking animatedly as if they have known each other for a long time. But perhaps it is the occasion of a newlyweds’ homecoming, and there is no standing on ceremony, no social falsity here, only the comforting and welcoming embrace into the extended family of a new member. I cannot quite see where Manong Tony is in this memory. He hovers at the edge. He must be seated somewhere, perhaps over by the window overlooking the dusty road that winds along the seashore. I study Manang Loring and I see a fair bride with large dark eyes.
Then the second thought, unbidden, strikes me: How could Manong Tony win the hand of such a fair, young and beautiful bride? No, no, do not scowl - just laugh - at my impertinence. For even as a child, I knew Manong Tony to be ever so serious, rail-thin and seemingly older than his years, and I could not imagine him proposing to – much less being accepted by - such a young and comely lass. But, as they say and as I have read – and yes, if I may say so, as I have learned in my own experience (see footnote 2) – women are wise in choosing their partners, seeing beyond the false facades, unerringly sensing the true worth of a man beneath the, hmmm, unprepossessing, and sometimes even faulty, exterior.
After this ‘homecoming’ episode, we moved to Manila in 1958, and I remember my revised impression of your Mom some years later. This must have been during a holiday visit back to the old hometown, and by that time Edwin - and perhaps even you - had joined us in this world of joy and tears.
In that visit, I recall thinking, upon seeing your Mom: Oh, she has aged and been browned by the sun and been matured by motherhood. And I wondered if Manong Tony had been treating her right. I wasn’t sure of that last - until your Mom smiled, and on the instant I was reassured that he had been, for I could see once again, in the smile, flashes of that young, fair girl that Cousin Tony brought home to San Esteban on a golden afternoon a long, long time ago.
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