THE SUNSET OF ANNABELLIA and the beauty in service
The sun is setting as I write. The skies are awash with the last rays of the sun’s descent. In the beginning its descent left streaks. But as the sun hid, color exploded over the horizon. The sun set for Annabellia Zamora, 34, on the 18th day of March when the elderly man she had taken care of for the last 3 years passed away. World War II veteran Sergeant Casimero “Meloy” Flores died at the age of 101 just as the dawn broke. We had known that it was time for him to go. We didn’t want our grandfather to suffer any longer. But his caregiver of three years wanted to hold on to his life for as long as she could. And no one wept more than Ate An-an, as we fondly call her. She wept when the sun rose, long into the night, until the sun began its ascent once more. In the beginning, it was just another job, another means to get by. But time had weaved its magic. Ate An-an had come to care for Lolo as her own father and took care o f him with the kind of devotion that no one could com- pare to other than his wife, Avelina, who died January last year.
When we began to regard Lolo Meloy as a chore, Ate Anan’s patience never faltered.
In many ways, she was twice more than the family to Lolo Meloy than most of us could ever aspire to be.
During the wake, I asked her how she was holding up. She could barely keep her tears at bay. “I love Tatay very much. I see him as my own father,” she said in the vernacular.
And I understand why. She was born into a poor family in New Bataan, Compostela. Her father had died when she was little, she said, and chose to run away from home at the age of 12 when her mother “remarried” a man who wanted to molest her and her sister. She said her mother refused to believe them.
She later on found out that her sister was made pregnant by her stepfather.
Since then, Ate An-an has been working as a housemaid. By the time she worked for us, she was already a single mother of three, two girls and a boy. The kids’ father had “remarried” and long ago stopped giving support. She was forced to leave them in the care of her mother and siblings living in the mountains while she sought employment in the city.
She knew the perils that her daughters face with her stepfather near, so she cautioned her daughters to be very careful.
Ate An-an hated to leave them, but money was sparse when it came, so she agreed to the job that we offered in exchange of a bigger salary.
Knowing that she hasn’t had a father figure, I can see why she has come to love my Lolo. Lolo was charming. He had no teeth left but had the biggest smile. He liked to sing and joke a lot. He liked to hold your hand and play with you. In his lucid moments, he liked to give advice.
He was a father through
and through.
When it comes to taking care of elderly patients, “challenging” s an understatement. Mother and I have given up many times as we would barely have time for ourselves. It was a full-time job.
Amazingly, Ate An-an took on the role of housemaid and caregiver too. Her day begins at 5a.m. to 8p.m. She kept our house in top shape. She ook care of both Lolo and Lola. She would pay bills and eturn even one peso to us.
We are very lucky to have ound Ate An-an. But I believe hat our paths crossed for a eason.
Lolo was an ordinary man who was capable of doing great things. He had survived a war and almost singlehandedly lifted his entire family rom poverty after his homeown Aklan was ravaged by he war. He ventured into Mindanao, “The land of promse,” where he heard that food was abundant.
Having acquired lands here, he gave them away to his family members so they could start anew.
He had sent to school his children and grandchildren, and was a barangay captain of Barangay Riverside, Calinan District, for 12 years from 1977 to 1989. Barangay capains had no salary or benefits hen.
Taking care of people came naturally to Lolo. It didn’t come as a surprise that he continued to do so until the day he died.
Now that he’s gone, Ate An-an has agreed to bring her hree children to live with us o have a chance at a better uture.
Mother said that it was our way of repaying our debt of gratitude to the woman who has served our family well.
But I know better. I know hat Lolo is still weaving his magic, helping another famly up on its feet even after his death.
The sun may have set for Annabellia Zamora when Lolo Meloy closed his eyes, but omorrow, the sun will rise again. A brighter future for hem awaits — the product of a beautiful service.