By Manuel L. Morato
Maybe I should explain to my readers that I am not a writer, much less one who does so to win an “award.” Not at all. I do straight writing and I only wish to communicate and to be understood; rushing to do a column all the time.
All my columns suffer from time. My deadline for my columns that appear twice a week, Tuesdays and Saturdays, is at 5 P.M. the day before. I do my columns in longhand within 45 minutes or so to catch up with my deadline. It’s only after the column appears when I notice some errors here and there. But as I said, I only write to be understood – with what my heart and mind dictate; and what I believe in. Truth must always prevail.
I have a secretary who types my column written in longhand into the computer and sends it to the newspaper before the deadline. I honestly am not computer literate. I only know how to receive, answer and comment – once in a while in my iPad.
In my previous column last Tuesday “In Memoriam” dedicated to the death anniversary of my father, yesterday March 6, I related something that happened when I was in Los Angeles. I was studying abroad when my father passed away. Let me quote what I had written: “A strange thing happened. At about 10:00 P.M. as I was writing the letter to my father (in my apartment in Los Angeles), the main doorknob kept turning and the key clicking as if somebody wanted to enter. What I missed to relate was what came after. After I said “come in, come in…” the wrapper of the box I put by the door on the floor was being torn open, very loudly. It contained 3 Teflon frying pans. Ang lakas ng sound, but the wrapper was intact. Hindi naman napupunit ‘yong papel. That’s when I rushed to the telephone and called the priest. It was that traumatic.
When I received the telegram the next day from one of my sisters, Teresita in particular, this was what she said: “Hoy Dios reclamo la vida de nuestro padre,” meaning to say that “today, God reclaimed the life of our father.” The message made it a bit easier to accept for as I was crying alone, the message made me realize that God alone owns our God-given life; that He alone owns our life here on earth. Puwede niyang bawiin anytime. But that being the first death in the family, it was very hard to accept, especially what caused his death. Natraydor ang ama ko ng isang kaibigan whom he trusted. It’s a long story to tell, but there is indeed nothing more painful than to be deceived by a trusted person who double-crossed and stole properties from him in his absence. He was in Spain for medical treatment but was forced to come back for his own trusted man took advantage of his companies in his absence. It must have been too much for him to accept. He had a heart attack. The man who did him wrong was the son of his old friend, a Senator at the time.
How truly painful it is to be deceived by somebody you trust, especially to an honest man like my late father who always cared for others. He was a selfless human being. He was a giver, not a taker. On his birthdays, Christmas and other important occasions, we could not even give him a gift; and if we do, he would get sick and even had a fever. Ayaw niya regalohan siya. Ang gusto lamang niya ay ang aming presence; first to have his loved ones with him. That was his happiness. He craved for us to be together for lunch and dinner; and better be on time at exactly 7 P.M. Dinner was at 7 P.M. sharp. Once I got late, I received a “sermon” that I remarked across the table to a sister: “Siete palabras.” He asked me: “Hijo, what did you say?” I told him the truth. I told him I said “Siete palabras.” He got back at me and said in Spanish: “On the eighth word, you’ll fly out of the window.” We all kept quiet na lang.
Let the bad part of history not repeat itself. We pray to God. My three sisters and I are going through the worst time in our lives. It is as if a brother waited for us to turn in our 80s to do us wrong; the worst experience we have undergone in our entire life.
Why now? We never imagined this could ever happen to us.
What keeps us going is Divine Justice. God knows the truth and somehow, sometime, vengeance is His. And justice will be served.
For comments and suggestions email at mlmorato@yahoo.com
