By Dennis Acop
After a year and a half of dating, Joji asked me if we had plans of getting married. That was in the latter half of 1984. It was a reasonable question to ask for her because she was older than me. The desire and pressure to tie the knot was upon her. Plus she had to know so she could respond to the petition to go back to work in New York. I also felt some pressure but it was one that was headed away from getting hitched just yet because I felt I was too young at 23 to start a family. I felt like I needed to date more and enjoy my bachelorhood. Problem was that I was torn between the prospect of settling down early and enjoying being single. I therefore told Joji that I had to think it over. She felt it tantamount to rejecting her and it broke her heart. We parted with heavy hearts and she quickly worked on her travel documents back to New York amidst sobs.
Meanwhile, I went back to barracks in Silang, Cavite and tried to focus my mind on work. But I could not forget Joji. No matter what I did, she was constantly on my mind. Even when I did soldiering or ran myself to the ground. Joji was beautiful, smart, and kind. I just couldn’t let go of her. My mind began to play tug-of-war between the gains of marrying her and losing her. But there is no monkeying around with matters of the heart. You either love or you don’t. I easily remembered all the good things she did for me. How she bailed me out. How she brightened up my days. How she made me happy. She was light and fun to be with. How I couldn’t stop looking at her as my bus pulled out of Port Authority for the drive back to West Point. I realized I truly loved her more than I admitted to myself and that I was a fool to let her go. I no longer cared about her age, my bachelorhood, or what other people said. Deep in my heart, I knew she was the one. Suddenly, I only felt that yes I too wanted to marry her. I therefore resolved to propose to her the next time we met again. I was no longer coy. I was determined. I was adamant.
Even with no engagement ring, I proposed to her soon after I asked her to meet. She was pleasantly surprised and teary-eyed. But I don’t think she was really too surprised! I had shown her how much I loved her and by then she knew. We couldn’t marry in 1984 as her sister already beat her to it. But she also made it to the altar then, as maid of honor. I remember that wedding as I was also there of course. So we got married soon as the new year came around. On January 19th at the Saint Ignatius Chapel inside Camp Aguinaldo. We held our reception at the nearby Officers’ Clubhouse. Lieutenant General Fidel Ramos led our many godparents chosen by the both of us. My West Point and SAF mate Cris Acosta ‘82 was my best man. We were married in a Catholic ceremony befitting both our faith. It was the first military wedding for Joji’s family so all of her kin were so excited passing under drawn sabers and witnessing Joji serenaded by all the officers as my kaydet girl. We were both in white. Me in my white dress uniform and she in her immaculate-looking white gown designed by her cousin Chiqui Hollman. Relatives on both sides came over from the Tagalog region, Benguet, and from overseas to honor our union. To allow relatives and friends from my hometown to be one with us, we held a second reception in our home in La Trinidad welcoming them. Both our parents and all our relatives and friends were happy for us. Joji and I vowed to love each other and make our marriage work. We did just that the next thirty-three blissful years.
