EULOGIES WRITTEN UNDER A MANGO TREE II

 

2. Gerwin Capili

Jose Gerwin Capili was my friend, my kumpare and a brother in Freemasonry.

Last Monday, God called him home.

It was late in the afternoon, just around that time before the darkness set in and when the last beam of the glistening sun was fading... Gerwin breathe his last.

My heart broke into a million tiny pieces upon learning about his death, there were long gaps between my breaths and the throbs inside my chest turned into short and hollow pulsations…

First Meeting

It was in 2006 when I first met Gerwin. I was in the second degree of my travels in Freemasonry, and I was asked to render service in the fellowship for his third-degree conferral and raising which was practically the graduation rites for aspiring members of Freemasonry. Two weeks after that, we met again but this time it was my conferral and raising. He was already a Mason at that time, and he went there as a guest and as a witness to the rituals I had to go through.

The Mango Tree

In 2011 we started to see each other more often. I have a very small circle of close friends and we all bonded under a mango tree near his office for a considerable period. Every day for several years, we meet under that great old tree. Sometimes for only a few minutes and in some days, for hours and hours. Gerwin belonged there under that tree just like the rest of us. And even though we came from different walks of life, from different fields and from different backgrounds, that mango tree kept us together and cemented our bonds with stories we shared and the laughter that came with them.

Of all my friends under the mango tree, Gerwin was the level-headed one. He was the calmest of the lot and his counsel was sought by many including myself. He represented the best in all of us. He was the kindest and most gentle among us.

Clean, Squared and Upright

Other people, those who have no clue how kind and gentle Gerwin was, might have a different set of opinions about him. But that’s only because they were never given the privilege of spending time with him, of talking to him about life and witnessing how much he loved life, his wife Joy and his two sons. And obviously, Gerwin certainly has so much love to give. He overflows with love, and I was fortunate enough to be his friend… his brother.

In Masonic terms, Gerwin have always kept his lambskin apron clean, that his actions were always square, in society - he stood firm and upright, and he always spoke from his heart – as it is in the heart that we were all made Freemasons for the first time.

The Dreaded Sickness

He has been sick for quite some time now. Diabetes, that dreaded sickness.

In the past few years, he’s been in and out of the hospital. A couple of months ago, the doctors amputated his left leg just below the knee. It was devastating for us, and we can only imagine how it was for Gerwin because other than his relentless passion for good food, he loves to travel. Just two weeks ago, we were excited to hear that Gerwin finally got his prosthetic leg. It was a perfect fit. So perfect in fact, that some of other close friends started to make informal plans of trips and weekend vacations like we used to before the Covid Pandemic came. We went to Thailand and Vietnam and other local areas together with other friends and our spouses. A new leg meant a renewed opportunity to create more memories together. But now, all of that seemed impossible.

Without Gerwin

I know that life will never be the same without Gerwin. Never again will I ever have the chance to talk to him and hear his laughter. For this handful of friends, our lives will never be the same knowing that in the next vacation, the next trip, and the next time we hang out under the mango tree or in any other place – Gerwin won’t be there to join us. And because he is gone; the grass will be less green; the lights will be less bright and the laughter – less loud.

I will miss Gerwin for as long I live. I’ve always looked forward to growing old with all my friends and experience the grace of aging with them around me but now there is this deep sorrow knowing that Gerwin left our circle early… much too early. My heart will always long for his voice.

In this lifetime, I will never see my friend again and I will grieve this loss forever.

 

 .....................................................................................................................................................................

Photos:

 

EULOGIES WRITTEN UNDER A MANGO TREE I

1.     Loren G. Palma

LGP.

I’ve known Loren G. Palma since I was a kid. He was seven years my senior. He was friends with my eldest brother back in their high school days hanging out in Rizal Triangle Park’s basketball court and doing God-knows what other things.

Later on he became friends with my older sister during her senior year in college and even after college. It was a group of friends mainly composed of other SBMA employees.

A few years back, Loren joined Freemasonry. I was already a member of the Craft when he joined and that’s when we established or should I say; re-established a connection.

It was only six years ago when Loren and I started bonding. Not a long time I know, but enough to understand one another and see pass each other’s idiosyncrasies.

That Peculiar Mango Tree.

When I started my job in 2011 a handful of us Brother Masons including Loren, frequently hang out under a big mango tree in front of Building 225. Loren and a couple more guys (Rommel and Gerwin) work in Building 225 and the spot seemed convenient especially for these three.

We would go there spontaneously and without any notice to one another but somehow, we find ourselves congregating in that very spot like as if each meeting was planned and scheduled. We would all be talking about anything… any topic… from the most extraordinary subject to the most mundane.

After a few more months, we became more drawn to each other and the “Mango Tree Meetings” felt like a necessity in order to survive the usual stress that came with our daily lives and professions. Since we were all Masons in that circle of friends, other Masons in the area would jokingly call our group “Mangga Lodge” and somehow that name stuck with us for a good number of years until we prefer “Mangga Boys” out of respect to the official names of the actual Masonic Lodges. The lot of us would have lunch almost every day. Often times under the mango tree, sometimes in restaurants and even in some greasy spoon canteens in the area. For us, it was never about the food but rather the company which makes any vetsin-rich sarsyado taste like a gourmet dish.

Interestingly, we even have our yearly Christmas Party. During the last one, Loren was there… he was already sick but he had fun… he was laughing all the time and we goofed around with him.

Most of the time, we just fooled around or throw insults, profanities and curses at each other. I think the best cuss-words are those uttered to you by your closest friends and uttered to you with the purest of love and the utmost gross disregard for respect. I don’t mind being cursed at by these guys… heck it even felt good. I think that’s what real friends do to each other; they curse at each other, make fun of someone’s hair cut or skin color or someone’s nose or lip shape and give each other nasty nicknames.

We gave Loren so many nicknames and he enjoyed them. We called him “Ngetpa”, “Pangsky” “Chickito”, “Panchito”, “Palmers” and we even tell him that he buys his clothes and shoes at Osh-kosh because they didn’t; have his size at regular men’s stores… Loren being a short guy that he was. We made fun of his manner of walking, the way he stood when he was on the phone and his choice of clothes. But like I said, each nickname and insult was said with love that only each of us can see and Loren loved them all… and all we loved him back. (Bakit nga ba kapag minumura tayo ng BFF natin, kahit gaano pa ka-lutong; hindi tayo nasasaktan? Minsan nga palihim pa tayong natutuwa eh…)

We Love Pangsky.

We loved him dearly. There is something about Loren which makes him easy to love as a friend. I even made him Godfather to my youngest son.

Loren and I shared a lot of things in common. He was a sucker for intellectual and philosophical discussions just like me and like me, he loved movies. We both have the same habit of over-analyzing movies; their plots, the characters and the basic story line. But unlike me, Loren loves comic books. 

He knew all the Marvel and DC Comic characters by heart, even the ones that are not commonly known by the non-fanatics.

Another interesting fact or experience I have with Loren is when he talks about nothing but pure bullshit. I knew he was bullshitting me but I don’t seem to mind. Maybe because I know that it’s Loren who’s giving me a load of crap and not some stranger who is trying sweet talk me into something.

To borrow the lines of the poet Jose Garcia Villa: “Loren has his way of being Loren, Lorenly.”

Then He Got Sick.

The first time Loren told us about his colon cancer was more or less two years ago and we all acted like it was nothing.

We pretended that it was nothing.

It was only when Loren wasn’t around that we talked about how worried we are. We didn’t want Loren to know that we terrified of his cancer because we knew Loren wouldn’t want us to get worried as worrying would somehow take away the fun in our sacred little circle of friendship.

It is never a common practice of the Mangga Boys to talk about one of the guys behind his back but if we do talk about a member in secret; it is only because we have a legitimate concern that needs to be addressed and that we somehow need to figure out a way to resolve an issue minus all the possible confrontations and humiliation. Maybe it’s a “guy-thing” or maybe we’re all just sexist bigots… the truth is, we don’t care… we are happy at the expense of no one.

Before his surgery (to remove a portion of his colon), Loren expressed some worries concerning medical expenses and we did everything we could to pitch in. Even after his cancer came back, all of us gave help whenever he needed it. A few thousands here and there just to augment the burden pressing against Loren’s shoulder. Loren appreciated all the help from the Mangga Boys, his high school friends, office mates and other colleagues. Helping Loren was never daunting task for us. Those of us who have more, gave more and those who have less gave whatever their means allowed them to give. It was after all, for Loren.

Chiquito’s Birthday Bash.

Rommel, being one of the closest to Loren organized a surprise birthday party for Pangsky last March 2. His birthday is actually in February but it was in March 2 that we found a common time to throw Loren a party. It was set in one of the Korean Restaurants in Subic. We even ordered a birthday cake which read: “HAPPY BIRTHDAY PB LOREN “CHIQUITO” PALMA” from Mangga Lodge. He was teary eyed when he blew the candles on his cake and whatever wish he made before blowing them out, we knew that he wished it with all his heart… with all his faith.

Had we known it would be his last birthday, we would have made it bigger, crazier and the party, much much longer.

 Taken during Loren's Birthday Party last March 2:

Video Clip of the surprise Birthday for Pangsky:

It Got Worse.

Then our fears took a new form about a month ago when they rushed Loren to the hospital.

Pneumonia.

That dreaded mother-f*%ker of an ailment that took the lives of almost all cancer patients.

When Rommel, Gerwin and I came over to the hospital to visit him, he was so weak and frail that I almost burst into tears just seeing Loren curled in bed, his skin clinging to his bones. We all had to muster out whatever humor we have remaining just to keep a lively atmosphere. When he heard our voices, he slowly opened his eyes and looked at our faces… one by one and said: “Tang-ina niyo, wag n’yo ako lilitratuhan… gago kayo…” and we all laughed in unison. I told him he looked ugly and horrible which is why it’s a bad idea if he dies because they would have to find a casket with a tinted glass window. He just gave me a faint smile.

Last Monday, news came that Loren who was then confined in a hospital in Pampanga is suffering from multiple organ failure. Last time Loren was awake was Thursday last week. He fell asleep that Thursday night and remained asleep until Monday. Monday night, I was online chatting with his wife Abigail and asked how he was holding up. She told me that every organ in his body was slowly ceasing to function except his heart and beat of which remained strong and consistent. I said to myself it was because Loren always had a strong heart… capable of giving so much love. I promised Abigail that the Mangga Boys will be there the next day. Perhaps if Loren could hear our curses and profanities, he would somehow regain strength. I know, it was a silly and childish idea but it was hopeful and there are moments in our lives that hope reigns supreme over logic.

Ngetpa is Gone.

I woke up Tuesday with the news of Loren’s passing. I went through my usual morning routine with great amount of sadness covering my entire body. It was a different kind of sadness… like the sadness you feel when your favorite basketball team loses a championship game by just one point but then, you multiply that feeling by ten thousand… and that's exactly how I feel.

The boys and I met as usual for coffee that morning but there was something amiss. We couldn’t talk about anything else except Loren. We tried to take the conversation to another subject but we all end up talking about Loren. Loren was gone. Gone forever.

We all knew that the cancer will take him sooner or later but the feeling we have in knowing he is just sick and at home or at the hospital is very different from the feeling we have in knowing that he can never be with us again. The hope we had for him, even if it was fleeting was enough for all of us but he died and that hope was snatched away from us.

Everything Hurts.

I don’t exactly know why I am writing this piece or what purpose it may serve to those reading it or to those listening to this voice. For years now, I never wrote anything personal. Most of the time I only write office memos and business letters, speeches for other people and emails. If it’s true what they say that grieving is a process, then maybe this is my way grieving… the only way I know how to process grief or loss or pain. Because knowing that Loren will never ever show up again in any of our usual Mangga Boys’ events, lunch, drinking sessions and hangout… is painful. His passing left a gaping hole in our lives and millions of "what ifs", "should haves" and "could haves".

He was a short little man with a big heart and brave soul. He was kind and sweet. And he loved life.

The Mangga Boys are made up of boys with unique characters and each one of us perfectly fits the role we play under the mango tree. Loren surely played his role and he played it well.

We will painfully miss him and there will always be a spot under the shade of the tree that is solely meant for him.

-----End-----

More photos:

Taken during my birthday last February 2016:

 

 Mangga Boys' Christmas Party 2016:

Taken during Loren's officemate's Birthday lunch, November 2016:

 

62b990ed410c50dfcdfb14391a197d6ad45cfc89b8b2b5c605

Of Poems and Solitude

The poems
that are not meant
to be

written.

And not spoken.

Pronounced
in the heart,
in the head

of the poet

perpetually
performed

And drown
in the soul's
silent applause.

Jay Protacio Mendoza
(1978-      )

Amazed

Sparks flew once

amidst the shallow,

pale shadows

of how they met long ago.

Molten irons glow

and pounded into shapes;

familiar figures.

Then he pounded further.

Deeper. Longer.

She retreated her sprawl,

back into a curl
and gripped his hair.

bed sheets turn into mountains.

pillow into rafts.

Flares rise

as he lifted her

from the depths

of her sored and soaked longing.

Jay Protacio Mendoza

(1978 -           )