Legacy Of Hope

”Choices people make and circumstances in life sometimes conspire to teach us lessons, direct our steps even in the most difficult ways.”

My story begins in 1970, the year I was born. My parents were married not out of romantic love but parental arrangement. To say that my childhood was not-so-happy is an understatement. Tragedies of misfortune abound. For one, four successive newborn siblings died with no found reasons. Second, I’m a girl — the first born. In their belief to cut a curse, I was given to my mother’s married barren brother. My stay with them, however, was short, his wife preferred a child from her family line for permanent adoption. So my paternal grandparents had me instead. I was six when a healthy, handsome baby brother came, the sole pride and joy of my parents.

I grew up in a small village of less than 200 people. Seasonal farming was the main source of income. Daily consumption includes gathering wild ferns, turnips, mushrooms in the woods; shells, fish and frogs from nearby creeks. Additional recreations were chasing chickens and hunting spiders. Most of the time, I felt, looked, acted, and smelt like a ranger. I was a loner, madalas umuuwing luhaan kapag nangangapit-bahay. There’s nobody I can play with. Kids just ignored me, teased me at lagi wala din kakampi. From home, school was a 59-minute walk through the rice fields, I wasn’t discouraged. My grandparents inspired me with hopes and dreams that someday I will enjoy a better life, ride a bus in the city instead of kariton, watch real life movie not just old folk tales from a transistor radio, and live one day in a house that could shade me from moonlight and raindrops. They taught me how to live with nature, enjoy abundance in simplicity but also to dream big. With them I was the happiest kid. They were my greatest source of love, comfort and encouragement but I lost them both when I was 10. Sabay ibinurol, sabay din inilibing (grandma died of a disease, grandpa of cardiac arrest, 2 days later). That was the saddest point of my life. Grieving tears flooded me with emotions, it dampened not only my face but my soul for many days, months and years after. I attended secondary at age 12, living independently at the school’s dormitory. Money was tight, it’s not even enough for daily necessities and projects. School breaks meant not rest but a time for me to help in the farm, pasture animals, do household chores or babysit my brother. With no comfort or luxury, I persevered. I poured out efforts capitalizing on my pains, hopes, and longings maintaining grades as an honor student, consistently. Every March, school’s annual recognition day was considered a reward-giving-new-things day for me as substitute of the usual-relatives-hands-me-down stuffs of Christmas.

I studied college but my parents can’t continue to support me so I stopped. Frustrated, bored and helpless, I went to Manila. With some luck, I was employed in a garment export company. Under 18 I’ve been working since then. As a young adult trying to find a place in the world, I have lots of questions in mind. Early memories of fear, rejection and despair reminded me of the missing pieces of life… fine things, home, and the love of family. I have been told more than once that I was born jinx (unlucky). Though I wanted to believe that they were wrong, I carried a secret fear that perhaps they were right. I continued sacrificing things of youth in order to be matured, self-sufficient, and responsible. I landed in Hong Kong in 1991. I brought with me a great dream and a great responsibility. Out of kindness and obedience I freely share my blessings to my family. With hope things will improve and my brother will not be deprived of privileges and experience the hardships I’ve been through, I was dismayed to find generosity and sacrifice have no value for him. He married young, twice, with degree unfinished.

I decided to go home in 2001. For 5 years I was blessed with a wonderful husband and 2 great kids. Blissful to my hope, my relationship with my parents improved. We talked, worked out things that matter most in life.They acknowledged my hardships and sacrifices as well as their mistakes and shortcomings. Slowly, I began to retake my rightful place as their daughter and gained more respect, trust and love that I so long deserved. Together for 40 years, I’m sure that between my parents, love is shared and still lives. Same time, I saw what my brother’s life has become. His days revolved in alcohol, violence and other irresponsible acts. His wife left to work overseas, with no reforms, she didn’t come back. She found a better man, taking with her their daughter. Abandoned and depressed, drinking gave my brother refuge to grieve and his grieving gave him refuge to drink, the perfect cycle of doom. He was lost, on and off a psychiatric patient. It wrenched my heart seeing him and my parents tormented as he suffers. Sometimes I wonder how could someone who grew up lavishly with love, comfort and freedom could end up miserable and broken. He, who was unconditionally sheltered and nurtured chose rebellion and defeats.

In life, I lived and learned the hard way but somehow I managed to grow, I struggled yet victorious in the process. Looking back, I have losses and gains, sorrows and joys and found life’s worth overcoming most of my fears. For many years, I’ve been sharing hope, faith and friendship through community service. I became a worker of God’s vineyard, an advocate of fellow OFW’s, a founding leader of small organization, a marketing director in financial service (side career). And still, I continue to equip myself with skills, to explore other possibilities. I discovered too many beautiful places not just riding a city bus but planes. For entertainment, sure I’m enjoying more than a good movie and I now have a better home to stay… as my grandparents hoped for me. Good choices and hard works deserve corresponding rewards. I’m a believer. Failures, I have many, and also simple accomplishments that fulfill. I say “I’m full of blessings”, not curses. I thank God for helping me rise through life’s difficult challenges, for giving me wisdom learning to traverse those valleys of wrong and right choices, for blessing me with grace to accept and forgive rather than holding grudges, trying to change people nor expecting something in return. I thank God for providing me helps; opportunities and chances, wonderful friends and mentors that blessed my path at times I’ve no place and no one to turn to. Above all, in memory of my loving grandparents to whom I’m indebted and forever grateful, I honor them for what I have become, for their pride and confidence in me, for installing in me hopes that carry me all through. For now I don’t have a vast fortune nor high prestige to pass on as legacy but I do have a lasting gift of hope that continuously flicker. Faith to hold, courage to empower, enduring sacrifice with love deeply sown to keep it nourished, my parents and brother, my husband and children fit into my journey of hope. They are, so far, my great living motivators.

Author: Annabelle Libao

*Published in True Friends Newsmag (October 2008 issue)