Yes, Of Course!

Do you have a favorite place you have visited? Where is it?

There is one place that I would like to visit again although I have been there twice with the family for overnight visits. It is about 91.9 kms.  from our place in Cainta and more than two hours by car.

Caleruega is a place of worship owned by the Dominicans. Fr. Lovell, OP then a seminarian introduced me to it. Named after the birthplace of St. Dominic de Guzman in Spain, Caleruega is great for retreats, recollections, renewal, and other spiritual exercises.

When we were there a decade ago, we took lots of photos, taking shots of every nook and cranny of the place. I had so many blogs about it here.

This is Transfiguration Chapel where sometimes weddings are held.

The statue of St. Dominic de Guzman. He inspired this place.

The grand entrance of the place.

Going down this path was a lovely cottage called Pahingalayan where we stayed before. I remember exploring their vast garden, traversing on  foot going  up the hills overlooking the Nasugbu Mountains. Sunset was a winner here.

The hills of Caleruega.

One of the best features of the place, the foot bridge.

It’s a favorite place. Took morning and evening walks then had Batangas barako coffee afterwards. Their refectory hall offered a variety of food. Meals were included in the overall charges of the place.

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Remembering Dad On His 18th Death Anniversary

I checked my Memories app this morning on  Facebook. I was surprised that over the years since he died, I wrote some tributes about him and shared them at Facebook. I always remember those years and those days when he was alive, the anecdotes, the simple stories. 

I remember that time I was scheduled to take the exam for student librarians one morning during the second semester of college back in October 1973. He accompanied me to UST Personnel’s Office and waited for me until I finished the exam. What did I know about card catalogues and those letters that symbolized a certain subject in a book? But I passed and worked for three years there until I had to take my major. Chosing Economics was hard but I persevered.

When I graduated, I sent several application forms and bio-data to some chosen companies. He accompanied me to Nichol’s Air Base so I could take an exam and interview there. I applied for a researcher job but I didn’t like training in swimming and helicopter ride so I didn’t pursue it. I ended up working in a bank until my early retirement in the year 2000.

I took full load every semester and 6 hours of work as a student librarian. We would always had lunch together with one of his colleagues at the UST High School back then. Since we didn’t  have time to prepare for packed lunch, he would buy food at the University Cooperative. Each of the employees at the high school department were allowed to bring in one student applicant who didn’t pass the university’s entrance exams. I remember those friends he helped over the years.

Today is my dad’s 18th death anniversary. Just when we thought we were getting a headway on his dialysis, his frail body gave up on us eighteen years ago. It is quite painful to recall how he fought that debilitating disease that eats up one’s body, slowly sapping any strength left, leaving one so weak. My dad was a fighter, at the age of 85, he consented to have three times a week dialysis because of his weakening condition due to ESRD (end-stage renal disease). For mom and his children, it’s our last recourse for him to get healed. One last chance, one last fight. The journey does not really end in death but it begins once you are with your Maker. I am sure he is happy now.

Resilience and hard work are the keys to one’s success, he would say, never giving up despite the odds and fulfilling one’s wish in life, little by little, bit by bit. My three brothers and I were richly blessed to have him in our lives, a loving father, a responsible husband to mom and a indulgent Tatay to his ten grandchildren. How I wish he has seen his seven “apos sa tuhod”.

“As always, I miss you dad. I’ll offer a special prayer for you today. You are remembered in more ways than one.

I let my fingers touch your face again.

Only,

It’s your photograph.”

(A tribute to Dad on his 18th death anniversary).

And this is one of my favorite photos of you. That certain smile, I will remember it always.

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