(all hippie and flower power-ish)
Mom's dad, my lolo (grandpa) was a doctor and Mom's mom, my lola (grandma) was a pharmacist. My lolo had his own clinic and my lola had her small pharmacy at the bottom of Session Road, the main commercial road in Baguio City.
Dad's dad, my gramps (as I always called him), was a lawyer and writer/journalist and Dad's mom, my gramma, was a social worker.
Both families were old timers of Baguio City and both families knew each other very well. Mom and her siblings went to a private catholic school for elementary while Dad and his siblings went to a public school. Come high school, Mom and Dad went to the same school. Funny thing is the siblings of Mom and Dad were batch mates and ended up being classmates in high school.
When Dad was younger, he used to sell newspaper and shine the shoes of my lolo. Little did my Dad know that Lolo would be his father-in-law in the future.
Mom and Dad were high school classmates. According to my Mom, she had the hugest crush on Dad for the longest time but Dad being his quiet, reserved self, never paid much attention to Mom. Come college, Mom studied in Baguio while Dad went on to study in Manila. During the semestral break, Mom would ask their family driver to drive past the Hamada residence along Kisad Road in the hope of catching a glimpse of Dad. There were times that they would drive past Dad's family house without a sign of Dad anywhere but there would be times when Dad would be standing in the driveway. Mom said that when this would happen, she would hide in the backseat and carefully peep out the window trying her best to hide from Dad but still catch a glimpse of him. (Geez)
So anyway, finally, after having their own girlfriends and boyfriends and after the longest courtship in the world, Mom and Dad tied the know when they were 33 and 32 years old respectively.
Mom and Dad loved each other so much. They would fight yes, but they loved each other. Mom meant the world to my Dad and Dad stood as Mom's strength.
Mom had 3 pregnancies. One before me but she miscarried when she was only a few weeks on the way. Then she had me. She had to be on complete bed rest when she was carrying me. And then she had one more after me. I was 4 years old then I think. But she miscarried again.
I admire the relationship Mom and Dad shared. They made decisions together. The argued about a lot of things. Although never said, they taught me the value of keeping the marriage sacred.
I remember what Dad told Jet one time : "Jet. this is what my Dad always tole me, the most painful thing to see is to see a woman cry."
One of Mom's last wishes was that she be cremated and a part of her ashes be out "right on top of Steve's heart." Dad was buried at our family plot.
Their story is one I hold in my heart dearly and will share with my boys as they grow up.