Celebrating a Milestone with Memories

The Larks are all males, remember? But I also heard female nightingales, I said. They were church singers supporting The Larks for the mass hymns. Thus did Bobbsey a.k.a. Melba R. Manding Buma-at explain a detail of her silver wedding last December 14.

Pilo, Bobbsey’s husband of 25 years and father to her two great kids, is a member of The Larks who go back decades when they were strapping young men who grew their hair long, and sang.  Some of the hair may have gone, but the singing and the songs have remained.

That 25th wedding celebration was as meaningful as it could get. Three of the original wedding sponsors, Mr. Jose Ma. Rocha, the venerable former city mayor, Dr. Pura Inting, and Mrs. Gardenia Uy graced the occasion.

Mass celebrant Fr. Romeo Bancale, SVD, was also one of the original three wedding mass celebrants. He was now joined by Mons. Cirilo Darunday, the co-celebrant. He whom Bobbsey and I visited often years ago had often shared his wisdom about coping and growing up.  I didn’t know what it was in me that shied off from greeting him after all these years.

The reception and program at Saya’s Restaurant that followed were a pleasure to behold.  The tone was set by the program’s emcee, Kagawad Edi Borja, with his quick wit and earthy sense of humor.  No theory of relativity is involved here, but Eddie happens to be a relative as we’re both descended of the Lagura line.  He kissed my hand in respect, which established my seniority.  I will not question his judgment despite his thinning hair.  He was enough to make me proud of, ahem, our lineage.  Consider this, one of his punch lines that evening: I would still be your emcee on your golden wedding anniversary, but by then you would be crawling on all fours!

And the singers and the songs; only in Bohol can one occasion hold so many. Ben Udtohan wowed with his rendition of an old song, Kahibulongan, which was adapted as the movie theme song of Panaghoy sa Suba. Baritone Atty. Joselito Estrera and his singing of She would give Jack Jones a run for his money.  Tenor Mariano Paras Jr., recently retired from Metrobank and once PRISAA’s national singing champion, sang Unforgettable with Bobbsey’s niece, Efrille.  Then there was the so-called Kitchen Group of retired DBP guys who haven’t retired from singing. And of course, The Larks.

Witticisms and ribbing were a-plenty. Chito Visarra, who I readily recognized because he hasn’t changed much, offered the toast.  He was Pilo’s best man 25 years ago, already dressed in barong when he had to awaken the groom because he was already late for his own wedding, which was the morning after The Larks gave him a stag party, or so Bobbsey’s story went.

The couple works at the DBP, Chito said.  Twenty-five years ago, the DBP meant ‘Darling si Bobbsey ni Pilo;’ now it means ‘Daghag Bayronon si Pilo!’  Whew!

But oh, yes, Ivy (your juvenile name of our own choosing, Bobbsey, as mine was Candy, which our husbands had laughed at) some things do tend to repeat themselves.  Your coin bearer didn’t walk down the aisle, again, and I was almost a no-show, again. My schedule went haywire. A planned short trip to Cebu had lengthened. My dress and the gifts I prepared for your silver wedding were left in Manila. I made it to your special day this time, though, dress and gifts be doomed.

My only available dress was a bohemian skirt and a favorite black blouse.  I saw to it that you have more than enough money for any dress you fancy for this special occasion, the husband had said over the phone from hundreds of miles away. Well, I was already in Bohol and the dress I like had been left in Manila…

There were two pairs of footwear available; the rest, like most of our things, were already sealed in boxes for shipment to somewhere.  Both pairs looked combat-ready; an overused pair of pants shoes and a pair of boots.  I chose the boots, to the dismay of my niece.  Only actresses wear boots, Auntie, she had said.  Why, am I not an actress?  Oh, well, sweet nieces who drive for their aunts and keep them company learn to live with some unwanted surprises.

So there, Ivy, I went to your silver wedding wearing boots.  How was I to know that you would make me shake in my boots, literally?  ‘Twenty-five years ago, there were two kinds of printed wedding invitations.  The bride’s best friend did not come.  Now the story can be told…’

Edi’s introduction as he held two 25-year-old wedding invitations in his hands dazed me. I didn’t know; heaven knows I didn’t know that you, Ivy, already had a printed invitation with my name on it as a secondary sponsor. You had a second and final printed invitation and had erased my name. Now the whole scenario had been played back, and I was awash with memory and regret.

I did away with my prepared speech. Edi’s introduction brought me to an unexplored area where I had to confront myself and my sin of omission of 25 years ago. ‘I was in the midst of building a career that was leading nowhere… She may not have known it then, and maybe neither did I,’ I garbled through tears, ‘that girls are the best of friends, until a man comes along.  It gets worse when one is getting married while the other one has no boyfriend…’

Some things may repeat themselves as some things do not change. I won’t cry, I won’t cry or my eye make-up would smear, Bobbsey had said. Why, we’re still the same.  I also tried hard not to cry or my eye make-up would smear.  We’d end up looking like pandas or, to be more precise considering our specific breadths, Bobbsey would end up looking like a panda and I, a squirrel.

There was nary a word from me on your wedding day 25 years ago, Ivy, and I made you cry, privately. I came to your silver wedding 25 years after, and you made me cry, publicly. We’re still the malditas that we were, I know, but it could only be you who could get back, in great style. Some things had been rounded out. Goodbyes between real friends, after all, are not forever.

Give me your prepared speech, Bobbsey said days later over the phone when I congratulated her for her coup. No, I’m not giving it to you now, I said.  Wait till your golden wedding anniversary.

Yes, Ivy, should God will it so, I would come for your golden wedding, whether in boots or stilts or a wheelchair or crawling on all fours.  And Edi Borja would still be the emcee.

(2005)