It was 1998, I had a green Alcatel phone that was shaped like a soap. It rang with Ma’am Yoli on the opposite line. It was 9 am and she said she had donuts.
I, on the other hand, had nothing. I had nothing going on. I was 20, and I felt like I was running out of opportunities. Out of college, I tried to work in hopes of getting to a college with a course I like. It didn’t happen.
At that moment I had donuts. It was a bait. A lure to get me back in Bulacan State. I don’t know much about Ma’am Yoli, except for that genuine interest for my stories.
She was concerned about how lost I was. I didn’t quite understood what angle she was watching me from. I was a guy living with her lola following orders from my mom on what career I can pursue with what we can afford. We can’t really afford much back then. A single parent with 3 kids in college and another in High School, the best help I can give my mom is not to wallow. I always believed I was smarter than average to finish any available course.
To this day I will never admit to you that my mind is not built to understand schematics and calculus. I was bad with recognizing authority demanding respect like a tyrant. I quit college in ’97 because the Dean of Students was trying to suspend me for 7 days for a Pearl Jam sticker on my ID… Yada yada yada… Story for another time.
Ma’am Yoli was good with baits. She had donuts for a week, I was there for a week yapping about the sorry state of a 20 year old. The faculty room was like a secret garden. I was telling her about my secret life. I keep it secret because they are menial and I don’t want my mom to worry. They are menial but they are real.
I never knew which part of the story resonated with her. I was flooding our conversations with m-e. She said something about a friend that reminds her of me. She questioned a lot of my belief set as much as I questioned my beliefs. She never questioned me about my abilities though, and that was very important. Especially for a boy who is learning the value of dreams when it’s against the flow of reality.
From that moment, we clicked. I learned about honesty and Gabriel Garcia Marquez’ three personas we keep. I still think I’m not living to my potential. She still tells me it’s not the point, but “keep on keeping on”. We fail only if we stop.
That was some 16 years ago, our friendship is old enough to go to college. I’d take it to Bulacan State, she’s still there. Today is her birthday and her life is measured with the number of lives she’d made better.
Most times, we save the love we receive. Most times, the love we receive saves us.
danDAman 