people who touched my life and left…

THE NIGHT SANTA DID NOT RIDE HIS REINDEERS

Cesar Macabuag Ramos Sr.

(Dec. 31,1916- January 14, 1980)

ANGIE Ramos never cried. She never pouted when the cold December wind began to blow, caressing her cheeks. In her young mind, Angie believed that Santa Claus was coming to town to make her Christmas wishes come true.

      But Angie was then  six years old and never realized that Santa Claus was his beloved Papa, not until he died. It was a big blow to Nanay and to the other kids.

      Life isn’t always filLed with mellow sweetness, they realized.   But Nanay worked hard to make the kids happy as they grew up, despite the absence of Papa.

      Unaware that Santa had died with their Papa, Angie and her Kuya  Bubbles and elder sisters Dona, Fe, Ody, Cora and Lutchie hang their socks on the windows, hoping to find their gifts on the windows...... hoping to find their gifts on Christmas Day.

      They have been doing this since they were old enough to stand. On several occasions, they even laid awake in bed hoping to catch a glimpse of Santa. But the cold- and it was very, very cold in Lucena City where they lived—always put them in deep slumber, tucked lightly in their beds.

      Nini , the eldest daughter used to believe there really was a Santa Claus who rode on a sleigh pulled by reindeers, until she caught Papa, with Nanay, stuffing gifts into the socks on the windows.

      Nini made a compact with Papa to keep her discovery a secret. And Angie and everyone else grew up believing that, indeed, there was  Santa Claus.

      The year after Papa died, as Christmas drew nearer again, Angie, now a year older, waited eagerly for Santa Claus to come. As early as five o’clock of Christmas eve, the children were already excitedly preparing their socks. Except for Nanay and Nini, who looked at them, faces downcast and almost in tears.

      After hanging their socks at the windows, the children crawled into bed, shivering until the cold put them to sleep. The next day, they rushed from under the blankets to their windows. Their socks were empty. No money, no chocolates, no toys. Nothing.

      Bewildered, Angie asked Nanay: “Did Santa Claus not ride his reindeers to bring our gifts? Or did Santa Claus miss our address? Why didn’t he come? Was he sick?”

      “Alam n’yo,” Nanay said, “hindi na darating si Santa Claus dahil namatay na siya.”

      But Angie wouldn’t accept the explanation. ”Di ba may powers siya? Bakit siya namatay?”

      Patiently, Nini explained to them that Santa Claus was their Papa.

“He knows where you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows if you’ve been bad or good.”

“Kaya pala alam niya lahat ang tungkol sa amin,” the children, though still in shock muttered.

When she became a mother to only child Frances Joyce, she instilled mind the belief in Santa Claus.

Everytime Christmas draws near, Frances would always ask her Daddy Sandy  to bring down her life-size stuffed Santa from atop the cabinet where she keeps her toys. Then she would make her wish.

Just like her Tita Angie, she believes Santa will come to our  house to put gifts inside her socks, 2 pieces of  huge socks  given  by her Lolo Ernie. And her Santa, who is very much alive, never disappointed her.

Since Papa’s death, there are no more socks on the windows of the two-storey bungalow of the Ramos family.

Angie’s Santa may no longer be able to ride his sleigh, but he always makes his presence felt in  her heart and memory.

And I too, along with her brother and sisters, will wait for Angie’s Santa.

Angie, you see, is my dearest youngest sister. She now lives in Panabo City with her husband Raymond Rivera and two sons, Poy and Pau. (macon)  

THE LAST MEDIA NOCHE

Ma. Fedelina Maano Ramos

(January 12, 1962-January 12, 1987)

      Dona was a young and vibrant lady who was full of laughter. No one would ever think that at the prime of her youth, Dona would be bedridden.

      Endowned with a pretty face and a coquettish smile, Dona commanded a second look wherever she went. She was once a campus beauty and won several beauty titles.

      She was a good cook. On several family gatherings, she did the cooking. She was also invited  by some closer friends to cook for them.

      Following family tradition, Dona, her only brother and sisters always went home to Lucena City for the Christmas holidays, and Dona always cooked for them their favorite dishes.

      But on one occasion in December 1986, Dona did not cook for the  Noche Buena, which also happened to be the birthday of her Kuya.

      Dona said she felt weak, having gone through a series of surgeries at the Kidney Center in Quezon City and other hospitals in Lucena City.

      She had lupus, but she remained a happy-go-lucky girl. “Basta rin lang mabuti ang kanyang pakiramdam, naglalayas siya,” her family said.

      She had learned to accept her ailment, no doubt because she considered life as an occasion for cracking jokes and being happy.

      Dona was a great joker. I can still remember that day  their family went to the old cemetery to viist their Papa. While dancing—and she was a terrific dancer- on top of the tomb of their Papa, Dona said: “Kung natuluyan pala ako, sana nasa loob na rin ako ng nitso.”

      In May 1986, Dona was confined at the Kidney Center for a month after she fell into a coma. The doctors gave her a slim chance of surviving.  

But she did survive and live for another eight months.

      So come December, she visited old friends at the Quezon Provincial Governor’s Office,  and asked  for gifts. She even teased friends her ghost would haunt them if they don’t give her something. Of course, her friends and former officemates acceded to her request. They knew she was dying.

      Dona was busy gallivanting around until she got “very tired” and decided to stay in bed on Chrismas day. But then, after getting enough rest, Dona went back to her old self. “Naglalakwatsa na naman.”

      Early in the morning of December 31, Dona went to the market with a younger sister and invited friends to spend media noche with them, saying she had prepared several dishes.

      But as Grandpa’s  old clock struck midnight, tolling the first hour of the New Year, Dona called all her sisters to bring her upstairs. She was in bed as firecrackers lit up the sky.

      Early the next morning, Dona told her Nanay to bring her to the hospital since she was in deep pain.

      On January 4, she again fell into coma for four days. After regaining consciousness, Dona said she was now ready to undergo dialysis.

      However, as fate would have it, Dona’s body failed to endure the pain and once again became comatose, this time with her eyes open--as if insistent on seeing her visitors, especially her family.

      On January 12, a day before her birthday, Dona moved her head and clutched the hands of her sisters. Tears welled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

      Thinking that God had spared the life of their Dona, her sisters who just came from a mass at the St. Ferdinand Cathedral were overjoyed and sang her a birthday song.

      But the rejoicing was short-lived. Two hours later, Dona who just turned 24, died.

The New Year brings forth new hope. But for Dona’s family, it was the start of another grief. Their Papa, too had died on the 14th  of January in 1981. (macon)

Genoveva Maano-Ramos

(January 3,1937-April 30,1994)

Mother’s day in Heaven

THERE were  no more greeting cards, gifts or songs for Nanay. There were no more warm hugs and kisses for her.

Two weeks before Mother’s Day,  on April 30, 1994,  at exactly 10 a.m., Nanay succumbed to lung cancer in a hospital in Lucena City.

In the past Mother’s Day celebrations, it was customary for us her children to go home to Lucena and spend the day with her.

A year before she died, I gave Nanay a card with a very touching dedication. Actually, the card was given for free by Jollibee for every P30 food purchase.

But what mattered most were the words written on it in Tagalog. “Sa pinakadakilang ina sa buong mundo. Pinakamamahal ko kayo, Inay.”

While we were tidying up Nanay’s old aparador, we saw the card we had given her, including the one from Jollibee. Whatever we gave her, she kept.    

We often laughed  at Nanay’s habit— for there was always a big mess of  things piled up in her aparador. We knew she kept even the canned goods which our sister Fe sent her from New York. So whenever we visited her, we would check in her aparador for canned goods and other goodies from the States.,

Our youngest sister Angie, who cried so hard when Nanay died, had promised our mother a beautiful gold bracelet. But now she laments. “Hindi ko na mabibili si Nanay ng gusto niyang bracelet.”

Although we knew of Nanay’s impending death a year ago, it has still been very difficult for us to accept that she’s already gone. We still would cry whenever we got together.

We were all at her bedside until her last breath. We saw how she fought for her life, especially when she heard my sisters crying and yelling at her to hold on.

My grandmother and some uncles who where with us at the hospital kept telling my sisters to let go of our mother.

During those moments at the hospital and even until Nanay was buried, I never shed a tear- because Ihad been crying a lot ever since the doctors told us that Nanay had only six months to live.

How I prayed for a miracle- that time would stop. I just hid my tears so that my younger sisters might not lose hope, although chances of Nanay’s survival were bleak.

Besides, an hour before we rushed her to the hospital, Nanay  told me not to cry when she saw I was about to. Gasping for breath, Nanay, who had not had much sleep for the past six days, whispered to me, “Huwag kanyang umiyak.”   

But I couldn’t stop the tears, when Nanay suddenly pulled the oxygen tube from her nostrils and toldme, “Gusto ko nang matulog nang diretso. Hirapna hirap na ‘ko.”

She had all but lost her voice as the cancerous cells had spread all through her vital organs.

Although I knew well that there was no hope for Nanay,  I kept telling her that she would get well, only that it would require more time and patience. So, she agreed to get herself hooked to the oxygen and even asked for the nebulizer to ease her breathing.

Burtwhen all the life-supporting devices seemed not of any help, Nanay asked me to bring her to the hospital. So I woke up my husband Sandy and everybody in the house.

Nanay was very much conscious all the time. She refused to lie down in bed and preferred sitting up once in awhile, blankly staring at us. I could  feel that she was reluctant to leave us.

But her frail body just gave us in her battle for life. She asked my sisters, Ody, Cora and Lutchie to help her lie down. Slowly, Nanay closed her weary eyes and did not open them again until she died.

“Pero kahit nakapikit si Nanay, nag-respond pa rin siya sa amin. Kaya mas mahirap palang mamatay nang conscious kaysa unconscious,” we would tell other people after our mother’s death.

But there were two significant things we noted: First, Nanay waited for all of us to be at her bedside before she finally left. Second, she waited for me to bring her my wedding dress, which she wanted to wear for her burial.

I can still vividly picture how Nanay lay gasping for breathe while waiting for my older brother Kuya Bubbles, my brother-in-law Noel and all her grandchildren, Frances Joyce, Angelis Joyce, Geneva Joyce and Third.

From the very beginning, Nanay knew too well that my sister Fe will not be able to come home from New York. Fe has lupus, and her coming to the Philippines may aggravate her illness due to the weather here.

Regarding my bridal dress, it was a suggestion from my mother-in-law.I woreit during my very simple church wedding. Since then, everytime I came home to Lucena, I would plan to bring it to a dry-cleaning shop, but somehow, always felt lazy when the time came.

At first, we agreed to buy Nanay a Barong Tagalog, but my mother-in-law said it would be much better if the dress would come from the family. We also didn’t like the idea of preparing a burial dress for Nanay. It’s as if we were just really waiting for her to die.

I kept the dress hanging inside one of our bedrooms at the house in Lucena. But Ody would always take it down, saying: “Para naming Flor Contemplacion,nakakapanglaw.”(macon)