DEAR BEA

I heard the happy news. Congratulations! The world beckons, waiting for a conqueror.

As I'm writing this, I'm looking at your picture with your Ate Nez when she graduated from kindergarten. I've kept the picture in my wallet forever. The leather's all torn now, and I have trouble taking the picture out from the window pocket. I guess you must have been 3 or 4. But like the pictures of your Ate Nez and Kuya Arp that I always keep close to me, I shall probably always see the three of you at that joyful age.

I'm glad that you finally finished college. That's a high-water mark that's eluded about a third of our family. And knowing what you had to go through to get there, you should really be proud of that achievement.

I wish I could have been there. Because I would have enjoyed conjuring in my mind, images of approving smiles from everyone who believed in you and more importantly, believe in what you can be.

I would've remembered your Tatang waking up so early (no matter how late he went to bed!) to drive you to St. Paul's, passing by that Shell station in White Plains to buy a cup of coffee. I would've remembered how Grampa and Gran'ma were worried sick that you were not eating enough. I would've remembered how your Tita took it upon herself to carry on where your Tatang left off...to be a guardian, friend and mentor.

I would've remembered how you liked to horse around with your Kuya Arp, or when you were littler still, hide behind his formidable back. I would've remembered those hushed conversations with your Ate Nez, as you traded secrets that I dared not ask.

I would've remembered how your Daddy-Grandpa talked about you over a bottle of San Miguel, eyes twinkling in a merry mix of pride, hope and worry. I would've remembered how Lulu would take you in her arms, embrace you tightly, a warm but silent assurance that everything's gonna be alright. I would've remembered how your Dad would hustle to buy you the latest Nokia or juggle his commitments to be with you. And though they are apart, you must know they tried, very hard. They must be both very proud of you, and I'm glad.

You see our joy is not so much that you've become our first bona-fide "La Sallista" (we all knew that was coming!) but because we see in you and what you've become, the love and toil of so many people who've cared for you so deeply over the years. And know that for those who have gone ahead of us, they continue to live through you.

As you travel further down the road, you will see that the twists and turns are never-ending. You will face obstacles -- some larger, some smaller than what you've hurdled in the past -- but always remember that the Lord never gives you a cross you can not bear. You can and you will! The impossible just takes a little longer.

In our dreams, I believe you still talk to your Tatang, and he to you. I wish he would talk to me too but I guess he has his hands full with you and your Kuya Arp and Ate Nez. And through life's incessant uncertainties, you can rely on this one inviolable truth -- you are loved. Congratulations Darling, and Godspeed!