Words of Remembrance

(Given during my grandfather's/lolo's necrological service)

On behalf of Lolo Gene'’s family –- the people who listened to his stories, the people who watched with him the old movies he liked, the people he enjoyed Lola Fe'’s Christmas caldereta with– - I would like to sincerely thank everyone for joining us today as we send Lolo off to yet another journey ahead.

We have come not with grief and sorrow for the death of a brilliant lawyer. We have come with thanksgiving and praise to God for the life of a father, a grandfather and a friend.

When we’'re asked to say a few words of remembrance about Lolo, a few words don’'t seem enough to encapsulate who he is to us. And so I'’ll try to point out three things I will never forget about him.


1.       Lolo Gene knew what he was good at (and used these to make people happy).

We all know Lolo Gene was a great lawyer. And, as we have probably observed, he knew this himself.

Lolo knew he was a great lawyer. He knew he had a great mind. And the thing that amazes me about Lolo is that he also he knew he had to use this to help people who needed him. He used what he was good at to make others happy.

Lolo knew he was an effective educator, and he knew he had to share his knowledge to students who were striving to become a good a lawyer as he was.

In the same way, Lolo knew he made excellent kinilaw. And we hope he knew just how happy we were and how happy our stomachs were every time he brought his specialty on to the dinner table.

Lolo knew what he was good at and he chose to use these to make other people happy.


2.       Lolo Gene also knew what he wanted.

It is impressive how Lolo’'s life is the epitome of keeping it simple.

He could have lived in a large house and could have had a fancy car if he wanted to.

Lolo could have taken trips to different countries if he wanted to.

Lolo could have dined in fancy restaurants if he wanted to.

IF he wanted to. And he mustn'’t have because he didn’'t do any of these. He refused to do any of these.

Maybe he just wanted to live in the house he raised his family in. Maybe he just wanted to sit in front of the television and watch old James Bond movies. Maybe he just wanted to spend his time reading Dan Brown books. Maybe he just wanted to dance with Lola on Christmas eve to the beat of Dancing Queen.

Maybe he just wanted the simple life and maybe he was more than content living it.

Lolo Gene knew exactly what he wanted and that'’s exactly what he strived to achieve.


3.       Lastly, Lolo Gene showed us that he had this BIG talent and, whether he was aware of it or not, he gave us the opportunity to discover that he had an even bigger heart.

When we were still little children, my siblings, cousins and I would always see Lolo as a lawyer, a no-nonsense grandfather, a strict disciplinarian, a meticulous man of manners and etiquette. As we grew up, however, we have heard less of his strict voice and have come to realize that whenever we visit Gemsville we are greeted with a toothless grin and a hearty laugh.

When we would bring our little dog, Tamsy, to Gemsville, we always had to keep an eye on her.  Why? My sister doesn’'t want Tamsy to eat table food. Just dog food. We had to keep an eye on her because whenever she gets hungry, what she does is she goes near Lolo'’s chair and would just give Lolo this ‘luoy’ face. Sometimes she’d reach out to Lolo’s lap and beg him for food. And of course, Lolo would always give in and secretly hand her some pork. My sister would have to remind him again that Tamsy’'s not supposed to have any table food and Lolo would make up some excuse for it. And we see this as an instance when Lolo just can’t resist helping others.

We believe it is important for people to know that a lot may know Lolo by his big title and his big career. But we, his family, thank the Lord for having been given the opportunity to have known him enough to go past his big, tough exterior and to have witnessed his even bigger heart.

Lolo'’s life has made us realize that it’s never about success. It’s about significance. People may say that Lolo’'s life was a successful one. That may be true. But more than that, his life was a significant one. His was a life that made a lasting impact on ours; otherwise, we would not be here right now.  Success does not necessarily mean significance. But significance means that one has been successful in leaving a mark in the lives of others.

Lolo’'s significance is not a result of getting high grades, marrying a beautiful wife, earning a strong name for himself, having professionals for chieldren. Lolo Gene’s significance was a result of a firm conviction, a sound mind, and a helping hand always extended to those who need it.

And because the of this, when we - his family - remember him, we don’'t remember the fierce Atty. Higinio C. Hermosisima. We remember and we embrace him as Lolo Gene, the man who cannot get enough ABBA music and the man who chose significance over success.

I do (Part Two)

(The second part of what I came up with at dawn today.)


She is angelic and delicate at this most important moment. From where I stand, I could only stare at her staring at him. I whisper behind the hard wood, praying that I will one day accept the reality that I could never make her happy. She turns to my direction once again. This time she does not settle for a quick glance, as she must have seen the broken man peering through the cracks on the heavy chapel doors. She waits for me and I do nothing. I do nothing but wait for her to say, 'I do.'

I do (Part One)

(Just something I came up with at dawn today.)

I am unsure and undecided at this most inappropriate moment. I do not love this man, that is for sure. But he is good to me and he loves me. I wish I could say he makes me happy as well. I look over to my left one last time today. The entire chapel is devoid of signs of intervention. I have run out of time as I must have been staring at the aisle for too long. The minister calls my attention. I panic and say, 'I do.'

Where Cherry Blossoms Come From

Last Wednesday, my Dad took me, my siblings, and our fellow Young Life volunteers out for a trip to Trinity Ranch (the Young Life campsite).  It's funny how, sometimes, we learn so much at such a short span of time.  We stayed at camp for only three days and I was amazed at the all the realizations that came to me by the time we drove home.  One of which was about finding out where cherry blossoms came from.

I live in the Philippines.  It's a small Southeast Asian archipelago in the western portion of the Pacific Ocean and it's a tropical country.  We only have two seasons, dry and wet.  This makes the Philippines a whole lot different from Japan, climate-wise.  Cherry (sakura) trees are usually found in cold climate and its flowers, the cherry blossoms, are most popular in Japan.  My brother tells me that Japan even holds a traditional cherry blossom festival every year.  So you could imagine how surprised we were when a neighbor told us yesterday that this tall tree on the campsite was actually a Cherry tree and quite a rare one at that, as it bore pink Cherry blossoms.

My dad says the tree is about twenty years old and he had no idea how it got there.

We passed under that tree hundreds, maybe even thousands, of times.  We talked about how sweet the air smelled and how pretty the flowers looked when they slowly floated down towards the grassy land.  But we never realized that this magnificent Cherry tree standing right before our eyes was the one responsible for such beauty.  We were in such hurry every time we passed by that we never bothered to figure out where the pretty things came from.

I think it has a lot to do with life.  We get so caught up with it that when we actually get the time to 'stop and smell the roses,' we tend to settle with doing just that.  We stop for a bit, get a whiff of the flowers (or in this case, the cherry blossoms), absorb all its beauty, and, after a little while, move on.  Get back to the mess we call life.  

In my case, whenever I get a break from law school, I catch up on sleep, I watch DVDs, I go online, I eat food I never get to enjoy anymore, I stay at home the whole day doing nothing.  Before I know it, the break has ended and I could barely remember ever feeling satisfied and content about it.  Why? Because I see these breaks as mere 'extra time' for myself instead of wonderful gifts that I should be thankful for.  I take the gifts for myself, and take the giver for granted.  And these moments, they just pass me by, like the faint scent of cherry blossoms in the air as I hurriedly trod under the shade of the cherry tree at Trinity Ranch.

What we need more than catching a break to smell the roses is actually hitting the pause button in life.  Stop, and see the source of all those pretty things.  Let's do more than just count our blessings, let's snoop around a bit and look for who it is that's constantly showering them to us.  Find out where all the cherry blossoms come from.  

Because, just like the cherry blossoms unusually found in a tropical country like ours, the best things in life are more beautiful when we stop in our tracks, take a long pause, look up, and realize that they are gifts, surprises that we did not deserve in the first place, but were showered upon all of us anyway. 

Bull’s Eye

(This was written two years ago)

With their hometown’s irrefutable reputation in the field of archery, world-caliber archers groomed and honed in Dumaguete thrive on the challenge of keeping all other archers on their toes. Perhaps what drives them is the fact that there had only been five Filipino archers to have qualified for the Olympics—and four of them hail from Dumaguete City.

They feed on pressure the moment they set foot on the shooting line. The uneasiness tickles their nerves as they aim and release. They enjoy the perplexing blend of fear and excitement as they walk to retrieve their arrows. And upon seeing these pierced into the heart of the target, they are satisfied. With squinting eyes, sun-burnt skin and worn out shoes, Dumaguete’s top archers are certain that this is more than just a sport—this is their lifestyle.

1988 Seoul Olympic archer and present national coach Rowel Merto reminisces of the time when he used to think, eat and sleep archery.

“From the moment I woke up to the moment I slept at night, archery was everything I thought about. After my classes in Foundation University, I’d walk my way to the Silliman archery range with my bow on my shoulders. I had no choice; I could not afford a pedicab ride. I was so addicted to archery I even ignored it when people called me Vino Kulafu and Robin Hood.”

Now, exactly twenty years later, another Dumagueteño archer shares the same fervor for the sport. Mark Javier, the lone Filipino archer to compete in the 2008 Beijing Olympics, is a self-confessed archery addict as well. In preparation for the most elite competition in the field of sports, the silent but deadly 25-year-old spends approximately six hours a day and six days a week practicing under the scorching heat of the sun.  During his day off on Sundays, he goes swimming to enhance his endurance during tournaments.

During pre-competition training, the Silliman University archery range is jam-packed with more than 30 archers shooting and retrieving at the same time. At this rate, target butts only last for a few months before the center is made soft enough for arrows to pass right through. Target papers are changed and repaired every few days because of the massive damage done by the arrows on the bull’s eye. Archers range from five to 45 year-olds and yet, they seem to have more things in common than people may expect. Archery, for them, is the unifying factor. A bridge in the gap from one generation to another.

So what does Dumaguete possess that makes possible the mass-production of a special breed of archers? Coach Merto believes that the peaceful, laid back, slow-paced lifestyle of the city plays a major part. Away from the hassles and rivalries from what used to be “imperial” Manila, the athletes are trained in an idyllic location, in the company of a barkada with whom they share the same passion for archery, and under the tutelage of world-class archers and coaches.

But maybe Dumaguete’s magic touch in archery is not mainly about topography. Perhaps this is because the eye for excellence and dedication was already established from the very beginning.

Dionisio “Bob” Flores is known as the “Father of Archery” in the Philippines. Being the founder of archery in Dumaguete and its first coach, he was awarded Outstanding Negrense. The 87-year-old archery fanatic vividly recalls of the time when students, back then, used to have a hard time getting into the archery team.  This is because Sir Bob, as he is fondly called by the archers, made clear the importance of having a sense of direction in archery.

“I made it hard for them because I was afraid if I just let them into the team that easily, they wouldn’t take it seriously,” he said.

He then tells of a story on how one future champion got into the team.

“Whenever I ask students why they want to join archery, they always say the same things: because it looks beautiful and interesting or so that they’ll be exempted from PE or ROTC. One time, this girl came to me and said she wanted to join, so I asked her the question. I was not satisfied with her answer so I told her to come back in three weeks. And when she did, she was coyly smiling. I asked her why she was smiling and she said, ‘Because I have an answer to your question, Sir. I want to join the archery team because I want to be a champion.’ I didn’t really care if someone told her to say that, but that was the one statement that got her in the team. I knew she was serious about it. She later became the SEA Games champion on her first try.”

Sir Bob said that the main ingredient in the making of a world-class athlete is the sense of direction. It’s about knowing where you want to be-- because if you do, you will, without a doubt, know how to get there.

An archer’s life is never easy. You sometimes, unconsciously, ask yourself: “Ngano’ng nag lisud-lisod ba gud ko sa akong kaugalingon? Ngano gani’ng nag antos ko ani?(Why am I giving myself a hard time? Why am I putting up with this again?)”

But it does not take long before you’re question is answered. Make a beautifully executed shot and you find yourself oblivious of the body pain. You find yourself smiling, holding your chin up high and before you know it, you’re hooked on to the sport again.

Despite the pain and financial obstacles that may come along, Coach Rowel assures everyone that all sacrifices are all worth it once you get in the Philippine Team.

“The best part of it all is definitely the travel. You get to compete abroad wearing a jacket with the word PHILIPPINES on it and people will know that you are one of the nation’s most elite athletes. It is a moment when you forget about the poverty or corruption, and just be proud of your country.”

The drama behind an athlete’s accomplishments is the one thing that tattoos his victories in his heart. It takes more than just toned muscles, tanned skin and high scores to call someone a world-caliber athlete. It takes passion. It takes sacrifice. It takes an unquenchable thirst for excellence. Most of all, it takes a considerable amount of love—for the sport, for success and for the motherland. Just enough love to well up tears in your eyes when you’re staring at the flag and singing from your heart, with your right hand on your left breast.

Wayne in his SUDAC uniform during the Cebu Tournament

Bittersweet Calvary

It’s hard for me to imagine what Calvary would have been like 2000 years ago.  For one thing, I wasn’t there when it all happened.  For another, I probably wouldn’t have had the guts to witness the whole event anyway.

But I guess if I used my five senses, as well as my imagination, to describe it, I would have seen it as a huge cross, worn and weathered in time. Its smell would have been that of the sweat and body odor of an angry crowd, agitated by the scorching heat of the noonday sun.  Its sound would have been that of the groaning and weeping of a family longing for justice.  Its touch would have been that of the rough, dusty path the crowd’s bare feet walked on.  But the taste? I guess it would have been bittersweet.

Bittersweet.  I don’t think I could think of any better word to describe its taste.  To most people, however, Calvary is a lot bitterer than it is sweet.  The picture of Jesus’ slow, painful march up Golgotha makes many people pause for a while, and let out a sigh of regret.  The picture of the cross-bearing Messiah walking barefoot along the rocky hillside is enough to break one’s heart.  The picture of our Savior, whipped and wounded by the very people He gave up His life for is the bitter truth that many find most difficult to swallow.

But I like to believe that Calvary is not all bitter.  I have faith in the other half of the word I used to describe its taste—sweet.  I like to believe that Calvary is the sweetest thing that has happened to humankind.  The pain and suffering was depressing, yes, but it was for a greater purpose.  There was mourning, but it was so we may have a reason to celebrate.  There was death, but it was so that we may have life.  It was bitter, but it was so we may savor the flavor of God’s sweet saving grace.

The Art of Surrender

At 45, he laughs at his receding hairline.  The sight of two-day old black and gray facial hair stubbles immediately tells that he is no longer a teenager one may mistake him for.   The wrinkles deeply etched on his face reveal a life filled with smiles and hearty laughter.  His life, more importantly, proves how a man born with the hands of an extraordinary artist can choose to let go of his paintbrush so he can take off his shoes, bend over and pick up his cross.

Edgardo “Eddie” Trasporte, even as a child, was as shy as he was inquisitive.  His insatiable thirst for knowledge allowed him to discover his atypical abilities at a very young age.  Until the time he could actually read and write, scribbling figures on walls in an attempt to form sentences became a hobby for the young artist.  Building his own toys turned out to be something that nurtured his ingenuity as a child.

“Life was hard then.  I had to wait months before I was able to buy a toy soldier to ride my toy car,” Eddie vividly reminisces.  “I remember I had only two options: wish or improvise.  This potent mixture of imagination and improvisation really did [shape] my creative side.”

From the little boy who got spanked for doodling on walls too much, Eddie grew up being praised by his teachers for his amazing talent in the visual arts.  From participating regional art contests to having his high school projects framed and still hung on the walls of his alma mater, Eddie showed a promising future with his hands.

But Eddie’s talent was not limited to what his eyes and hands are capable of creating, his ears also earned him praises for he was a talented man of music as well.  People are left agape as Eddie displays his skills in handling the guitar, most especially when they observe how he also manages to use his thumb on the bass strings as he plays the instrument to create a fuller sound.

             When he reached college, Eddie was hired part-time by two of his art professors in the University of San Carlos in Cebu City, Philippines.  One hired him to be the art director for an advertising company.  The other hired him to be an in-house designer/artist for Habagat, which is presently one of the country’s most popular manufacturers of outdoor equipment.  Habagat, in fact, is still using the logo Eddie designed.

            Extending to one wall in the fourth floor of the Ayala Mall in Cebu, Eddie’s amazing talent created a large painting of a man in a baseball game.  The painting earned praises from people who passed by and paused to admire the realistic canvas beside the popular Taters store.

Eddie got his big break when he joined a Japanese animation company where he eventually got promoted as the animation supervisor.  For the artist, his ingenious works were well-compensated by his salary and achievements.

“In my five years in the animation industry, I did a lot of Japanese cartoons which [had] difficult titles I mostly couldn’t remember.  Some cartoon flicks that reached the Philippine tubes were:  Megaman, Street Fighter, Slam Dunk, Gundam, Batman, The Little Mermaid, The Goof Troop, some Warner bros. and Walt Disney titles, to name a few.  We even supplied animations for some European, Australian and American cartoon studios. It was a great experience.”

If there was one word to perfectly highlight what Eddie’s life was all about, one would immediately think of it as “color” or “fame” or “talent.”  But, no.  Anyone who knew Eddie’s experiences would definitely agree that the perfect word to describe his life would be “surrender.”

“God’s calling has been with me for many years but I just kept on ignoring it because of reasons I thought were of more importance. I had needs and big dreams and plans and I thought serving Him would mean giving them up altogether. But God, in His own mysterious way, slowly and patiently made me realize that I don’t have to worry about them for He is taking care of all my needs, and that all I have to do is trust the One who I claim to be my Shepherd.”

In 1999, Eddie and his supportive wife Elsa were faced with the challenge of starting a Young Life ministry in Iloilo City, a good 13 hours away from Cebu where they had settled.  This is the same Christian ministry that led the artist into God’s saving arms back in 1982 and the one ministry the couple has been passionately involved in for years.  Eddie and Elsa gave it a go.

“The fear of facing the uncertainties was never absent. But He promised in Isaiah 58:11, ‘I will guide you and satisfy you with good things. I will keep you strong and well. You will be like a garden that has plenty of water that never runs dry.’  Transferring all our things from Cebu to Iloilo was even more difficult than the decision itself.”

 Eddie now works with Young Life-Iloilo as a full time volunteer under the Area Director—you guessed it—Elsa.  A week in his life today means holding club meetings with the youth, leading Bible studies and giving free guitar and art lessons to interested kids.

Every year, Eddie is given the opportunity to pay it forward and share to the youth his life-changing experience during that 1982 Young Life camp.  He does this by serving as part of the program staff in at least three week-long camps Young Life Pilipinas holds annually.  He puts to great use his innate creativity by decorating the campsite, setting the mood of the environment, and painting huge canvases of remarkably realistic sceneries as backdrops to match the themes of the camps.  Supposedly worth thousands of pesos, Eddie does all these for free.

In Eddie’s life, his works of art will never measure up to the eternal worth of his works of heart.  For the passionate man of talent, their decision to follow Christ gave the Lord enough room to perform His holy will in and through their lives.  At 45, Eddie has been in the ministry for more than half of his life. 

“But there’s more beyond all these that makes everything worthwhile—it is watching firsthand God’s miracle unfold as teens are slowly changed before your eyes.  What did I sacrifice? I could hardly remember I did.”