23 Years Reminisced

 "If this woman, whose world was shattered beyond imagination, can push herself to a stronger and better life, anyone can."~Oprah, after meeting Charla Nash

November 30, 1987 - I resigned as a Pharmacist in my workplace (Claro M Recto Ave, Quiapo, Manila). I handed my resignation letter to the dismay of my two disappointed good and kind employers Mr and Mrs Julian Quieng. I shunned formality such as Farewell or Despedida Party. My co-workers handed me their parting gift, a day before I officially resigned. My lady employer also gave me theirs. At home, I spent the whole day packing.

December 1, 1987 - I boarded the Philippine Airlines at 8.30pm. Destination: down under. My friend Raquel Villanueva and a couple of girls in my workplace sent me off. Raquel's friend, Mr Jose Lim, a ground PAL employee, helped facilitate my flight seating beside Ret. RAF Officer Mr John O'Neill from Bomaderry NSW, who took some credits off my luggage to avoid paying excess luggage fee as my load did excess beyond a passenger's required limit.

As our flight progressed on, Mr O'Neill and I engaged in a lengthy conversation regarding so many things: life, work, travel, family and my coming marriage; the reason of my journey in the sky. Mr O'Neill did not hide his concern over my coming marriage to a divorced Australian man whose children were still living with him.

He and wife, Heather, a retired Nurse, sent us their Wedding Present two months later. Years on, to my understanding, they moved to Queensland to live. I lost contact with them when I became disallowed due to family commitment and marriage break-up that made me disabled when my hands were full on looking after two little babies who were born in straight two consecutive years.

December 2, 1987 - The plane touched down Sydney airport after 12 hours roaming in the air with only one stop-over in Melbourne where the wind blew me like a paper as I walked down the tarmac to the waiting lounge till further instruction for re-boarding was announced. I introduced my fiance to Mr O'Neill on arrival and we both thanked this kind gentleman who was a friendly host and a great help during my first overseas trip away from home. From the airport, we headed off to Orange where my fiance lived.

It was a long drive all the way from the city airport to the bush. I was impressed of the orderliness and the neatness of the surrounding. It was all green and nature's landscape was impeccably awesome. It was summer with a feeling of winter for me. My overcoat or blazer did not do justice to the new climate I was in for. It was freezing!

When I was told that it was going to be summer when I'd arrive here, I was thinking of the glaring and blazing sun and hot steamy weather just like my country. I was not prepared to be traveling on highlands that would affect the scale of the temperature. In contrast to my country's dry season, summer Aussie style in those years was pretty much within anyone's comfort zone where climate change was not heard of. So the outfit I wore on that trip was not in harmony with their summer. Ironically, while everyone was stripping off their clothes, there I was clad in padded layers of jumpers or sweaters, many days later.

My fiance broke the trip by stopping at Mt Lambie Mobil Roadside Restaurant. Mt Lambie is a nice spot of a beautiful green valley situated between Lithgow and Orange. Just as the name suggests, there were indeed flocks after flocks of sheep and lambs, goats, cows and horses contentedly grazing in the abundance of the green countryside; a scenery of  what I thought was a 'romantic place' - so quiet, pristine, beautiful and far away from the hustle-bustle world of the city.

We sat down in a corner table of this roadside restaurant (also a souvenir shop and petrol station rolled into one even today) where we both stretched our legs and arms tired from the confine of the car.  As  I picked up to scrutinize the menu, I found the dishes in plain old-fashioned English country names. My fiance explained to me what a 'platter of truckie bush tucker' means and in fact that was what he ordered for me. It was closed to dinner or supper anyway and we're both hungry.

When our food arrived, I gawked at first glance of the lavish serving which was impossible for me to eat all! It was hard to imagine and said 'how I gonna eat all these'? The sweet aroma of the grilled steak, lamb chops and sausages was divine as it was tempting! There were fried eggs, bacon (which I gave to my fiance) rissoles (Australian version of meat balls), mashed potatoes, mashed pumpkin, peas, carrots with gravy in huge, huge, huge amount. It was food fit for a giant; not for a dwarf like me. Hmmm that was delicious! I had never eaten a food like that in my whole life. I mean, yes, we do grill at home but not the way the Aussies do. No left-overs as I consigned the rest of my serve to the other party who was looking more ravenous in my opinion. That big truckie bush tucker on a platter was then followed by a traditional cuppa tea to wash down the food and to ease digestion.

It was twilight when we reached Orange even if the sun was still hanging in the western sky. Finally, here I came! The place was oddly quiet. There was not  one single soul I saw moving behind a bush let alone walking on the street.

Later, Judy, my step-daughter to be came out. She was nearly 12 years old and, Ian, my step-son to be was 16. I treated them like my own children inspired by the counsel I received from our remaining family Matriarch, Mamang Betang Yap-Casis Cases. Yes, a Casis married to a Cases. And I hope I get it right! Mamang Betang, was my late mother's first cousin on the father side whose warring tribe over a dispute of land inheritance not from their own 'sweat' but from our grandfather had caused a stalemate and strained on family relationship among the members. She too passed away years onward since I came here.

It was from Mamang Betang (whom she was fondly called by family members) whom I sought counsel and permission of my fiance's intended marriage to me in the absence of my late parents. She took me to the privy of her room and there she asked me questions and dispensed her advice. Mamang herself had a long-lasting loving marriage to an equally wonderful loving husband, Papang Pastor. She and another wonderful elderly lady in the church where I used to congregate back home, had helped me and influenced me to be a loving wife and mother. It was not a hard thing to do as I am naturally a loving person myself, I believed I am.

Her counsels stood in time to which I applied in my marriage and family life. Something somewhere disaffected that atmosphere; my marriage ended that crippled my sense of confidence and made me disavowed but not for long. In a long arduous process I learned to be forgiving.

“One single grateful thought raised to heaven is the most perfect prayer.”~G.E. Lessing