Jim
Reeves, the gospel singer, described memories as precious in his song:
Precious Memories, how they linger
How they ever flood
my soul,
In the stillness
of the midnight
Precious memories come home!
Vignettes of the life of my brother kept on unfolding
before me especially when I read his lovely daughter Joan’s fond remembrances
of him.
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| L - College days at the University of Mindano / R - On our trip to MVC |
Finally we agreed on one thing. I was ten, he was twelve when
we migrated to Mindanao. My father organized a church and he needed new set of
singers. The lot fell on us. We both have alto voices but we agreed that I sang
the soprano while he sang the alto. Our voices blended perfectly well if our
minds met.
We became classmates in high school. He was one of the male
trios who sang in our convocations, “Once there were Greenfields“, as their favorite
song. Teenage girls swoon over them but their crush was our young English
teacher whom they often visited. Until we reached college, he was still a
member of a quartet.
My brother was an artist, I was into other arts. No wonder
our temperaments always clashed. We have common friends in our younger days and
the same experiences of difficult times kept on coming back until we each have
our families. He said it would never happen to his family.
We always had misunderstandings but it was easy for us to
make amends. When he met the girl of his dream, I was the first to know it,
since he came to the house and informed me of his plans. Our children became
very close friends. They were like brothers and sisters too.
Months before they left for America I stayed with him and
the girls. He talked of his fears and insecurities and his most happy moments
when he was young. Then we cooked the favorite recipe of my mother which was
nothing but simple vegetable. He was fanning himself because it was so hot and
exclaimed, “oh, If I could go to the states to follow my wife, I would never
return to this place!” He made good his promise. He never did return home since
then! He met his fate in a foreign land.
His lovely
daughter Joan Corneta wrote on memories of him.
My dad Ed Corneta was not only my protector, my provider,
and my guide but also my friend. One of the memories that forever linger in my
heart was the sacrifices he made to take care of his family. His devotion to us
when he retired is so valuable to me. He showed me how to love my own family
unconditionally and to take care of them to the fullest.
My fondest memory of him was our conversations about
everything under the sun; from school, religion, politics, and current events
to my crushes. During my college years, our subjects of conversations grew
deeper. It was more about life, death and changes as we anticipate our big move
to Chicago. There were nights that we shared a drink or two and sang the
karaoke without the microphone since we didn't want to disturb our neighbors.
One of the songs he always sang was the, "Impossible Dream," from the
musical play "Man of La Mancha". As I played that song in my head
over and over again like dad used to sing it, I know in my heart that nothing
is impossible in this world to achieve. Dad taught me to believe in myself and
to always be strong. I may be a cry baby but deep inside I am as strong as
steel because of his love and guidance. The entire song tells the life of my
dad.
He always told me, "We only pass this world but once.
And time is fast running out." I carry these words in my heart every day.
It's a reminder that keeps me moving on and living life to the fullest.
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| Joan and her Dad in Chicago |
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