A family reunion
January 13, 2007 | 12:00am
Oh, dear, the New Year has begun! First let me thank you, my readers, for your response to last week’s column. I got about 50 queries, had to organize two classes and will probably do a few more. Thank you very much.
What does it mean when a new year begins? Uncertainty, I think. One does not know the direction in which the year will go – upwards, downwards or sideways. Will it be tough or smooth? One hopes it is the latter, but one has no choice but to surrender to its tides. How does it begin?
Last Saturday my Gonzalez cousins and I went to Apalit for lunch with my grandmother’s relatives. First a brief review. I come from a branch of the Gonzalez family that is little known. Our grandparents were Javier Gonzalez and Josefa Mercado. They died in their mid-30s, leaving behind their nine children, our parents, who were then divided up among his brothers to raise. Last October, after all our parents’ generation had died, we held our first reunion. Through this column I discovered my paternal grandmother’s relatives. We invited them; they came. It was the first time we met in at least 75 years since our grandparents died.
They then invited us to Tia Miding’s birthday party in Apalit, but Typhoon Milenyo got in the way. Then the holidays came. Finally, lunch was set for Saturday, Jan. 6. First I thought only three of us – my cousin Pat, daughter of my Tita Jo, my son Gino and I – would go, but when I opened my e-mail early Saturday morning, I found out we would be 10. There were three of Tito Ben’s children: Ben-ben and his wife, Reggie; Nina and Benjie; Eddie, Tita Javing’s son with his wife, Josie, and their son; the original three. I am Vladimir’s daughter, and Gino, his grandson. Because we were a bigger crowd than originally expected, we decided to bring some food over.
We left late. I sent my driver to load gas and return. He did but did not park where I could see him so we waited uselessly for a while. At 11 a.m., we finally left and stopped for food. We waited for each other at the Pulilan exit but missed each other anyway. I kept in touch via text with Paz Atienza, one of my cousins there, and told her to go ahead and eat; we would be late. We finally got there at 1 p.m., famished, and ate delicious kare-kare and bagoong cooked the Pampango way, and a delicious dish of beef tongue. They served us leche flan for dessert. We left the fancy desserts that we had brought behind.
My grandmother, Josefa Mercado, was one of three Mercado sisters – daughters of Wenceslao Mercado and Mariquita Espiritu, both from Sulipan. These three sisters had a brother. Josefa married a Gonzalez, who lived in Sulipan, though they say the Gonzalezes were migrants from Calumpit – just the next town – but it was Bulacan. One of the sisters married a Reyes and the other sister married a Cacnio. We were invited to lunch at the Cacnio house, with Tia Ton, Tia Miding and Tia Esther, the youngest of them.
The Cacnio house is a lovely old house, over a hundred years old. Its posts are from old trees. The ceiling is beautifully painted with Art Nouveau designs, not retouched over the years. The house is next to St. Peter’s Church. It is not the house I originally thought it might be, but it is perhaps far more beautiful. It took our breath away.
We were told that the Mercados were a very wealthy family in Sulipan. Wenceslao, our great-grandfather, had lots of property but he was a gambler and so, over time, he lost quite a bit of it. Tia Miding, who has dimples like mine, said that my grandfather, Javier, was a very wealthy young lawyer, very successful. She remembered that when my grandmother Josefa wanted to learn how to cook, she went to France to learn how. We come from a very wealthy family, I thought, but true to form, the wealth did not make it to our generation.
I asked if they were related to Francisco Mercado of Laguna, one of our Rizal forebears. No, they said, they were not. Eddie remarked on the beautiful hands of Tia Miding, who is over 90. I noticed Tia Ton and thought how her face reminded me of my maternal grandmother. The same perfect oval, the same full lips.
At around 3 we left to cross the bridge to Sulipan, the Forbes Park of Apalit once, where another relative, Tio To, regaled us over merienda. Finally, chasing appointments in Manila, we had to go.
In 2006, we had our first reunion and we are planning another one in 2008. This is a remarkable family, I think. We reach out and are thrilled to know our grandmother’s relatives more than 70 years after her death. This is the wonderful thing about families. We are connected by strong invisible threads that bind us, that tie us together into a close, warm relationship, that knit us together into a stretchable sweater that covers the world – San Francisco, England, Switzerland, Wack Wack, Makati, Tagaytay, everywhere, but we are still one. It is a wonderful spirit to begin 2007 with.
Thank you to Tita Ton, Tita Miding, Tita Esther and Tito To for your warm hospitality. Thank you, Paz, for your e-mails and texts that made this all possible. We are all profoundly grateful.
Send your comments to secondwind.barbara@gmail.com or lilypad@skyinet.net or text 0917-8155570.
What does it mean when a new year begins? Uncertainty, I think. One does not know the direction in which the year will go – upwards, downwards or sideways. Will it be tough or smooth? One hopes it is the latter, but one has no choice but to surrender to its tides. How does it begin?
Last Saturday my Gonzalez cousins and I went to Apalit for lunch with my grandmother’s relatives. First a brief review. I come from a branch of the Gonzalez family that is little known. Our grandparents were Javier Gonzalez and Josefa Mercado. They died in their mid-30s, leaving behind their nine children, our parents, who were then divided up among his brothers to raise. Last October, after all our parents’ generation had died, we held our first reunion. Through this column I discovered my paternal grandmother’s relatives. We invited them; they came. It was the first time we met in at least 75 years since our grandparents died.
They then invited us to Tia Miding’s birthday party in Apalit, but Typhoon Milenyo got in the way. Then the holidays came. Finally, lunch was set for Saturday, Jan. 6. First I thought only three of us – my cousin Pat, daughter of my Tita Jo, my son Gino and I – would go, but when I opened my e-mail early Saturday morning, I found out we would be 10. There were three of Tito Ben’s children: Ben-ben and his wife, Reggie; Nina and Benjie; Eddie, Tita Javing’s son with his wife, Josie, and their son; the original three. I am Vladimir’s daughter, and Gino, his grandson. Because we were a bigger crowd than originally expected, we decided to bring some food over.
We left late. I sent my driver to load gas and return. He did but did not park where I could see him so we waited uselessly for a while. At 11 a.m., we finally left and stopped for food. We waited for each other at the Pulilan exit but missed each other anyway. I kept in touch via text with Paz Atienza, one of my cousins there, and told her to go ahead and eat; we would be late. We finally got there at 1 p.m., famished, and ate delicious kare-kare and bagoong cooked the Pampango way, and a delicious dish of beef tongue. They served us leche flan for dessert. We left the fancy desserts that we had brought behind.
My grandmother, Josefa Mercado, was one of three Mercado sisters – daughters of Wenceslao Mercado and Mariquita Espiritu, both from Sulipan. These three sisters had a brother. Josefa married a Gonzalez, who lived in Sulipan, though they say the Gonzalezes were migrants from Calumpit – just the next town – but it was Bulacan. One of the sisters married a Reyes and the other sister married a Cacnio. We were invited to lunch at the Cacnio house, with Tia Ton, Tia Miding and Tia Esther, the youngest of them.
The Cacnio house is a lovely old house, over a hundred years old. Its posts are from old trees. The ceiling is beautifully painted with Art Nouveau designs, not retouched over the years. The house is next to St. Peter’s Church. It is not the house I originally thought it might be, but it is perhaps far more beautiful. It took our breath away.
We were told that the Mercados were a very wealthy family in Sulipan. Wenceslao, our great-grandfather, had lots of property but he was a gambler and so, over time, he lost quite a bit of it. Tia Miding, who has dimples like mine, said that my grandfather, Javier, was a very wealthy young lawyer, very successful. She remembered that when my grandmother Josefa wanted to learn how to cook, she went to France to learn how. We come from a very wealthy family, I thought, but true to form, the wealth did not make it to our generation.
I asked if they were related to Francisco Mercado of Laguna, one of our Rizal forebears. No, they said, they were not. Eddie remarked on the beautiful hands of Tia Miding, who is over 90. I noticed Tia Ton and thought how her face reminded me of my maternal grandmother. The same perfect oval, the same full lips.
At around 3 we left to cross the bridge to Sulipan, the Forbes Park of Apalit once, where another relative, Tio To, regaled us over merienda. Finally, chasing appointments in Manila, we had to go.
In 2006, we had our first reunion and we are planning another one in 2008. This is a remarkable family, I think. We reach out and are thrilled to know our grandmother’s relatives more than 70 years after her death. This is the wonderful thing about families. We are connected by strong invisible threads that bind us, that tie us together into a close, warm relationship, that knit us together into a stretchable sweater that covers the world – San Francisco, England, Switzerland, Wack Wack, Makati, Tagaytay, everywhere, but we are still one. It is a wonderful spirit to begin 2007 with.
Thank you to Tita Ton, Tita Miding, Tita Esther and Tito To for your warm hospitality. Thank you, Paz, for your e-mails and texts that made this all possible. We are all profoundly grateful.
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