Tio Pablo

Tio Pablo was one of the most inspiring men I know.  A dashing and wordly man, he had his share of carefree days in his youth.  He had  always been curious and adventurous.  He was all at once gregarious, outgoing and introspective. His search for meaning led him to be a member of Jehova's Witnesses.  From then on, his every action was guided by his faith and his church.

He was the youngest brother of my father, Canuto.  Although their parents had five children, only three brothers lived to adulthood.  Their only sister, Olivia, and oldest brother, Leon died when they and my father had chicken pox as children.  My father survived (thank God!) although he damaged his face and was blind for a while (he was unable to bear the itch that came with the illness, he scratched the skin's surface). And so the Torrejos brothers were Kakang Juan, Tatay (my father) and Tio Pablo.  Kakang Juan married, but never had children and died before I was born.  Tatay and Tio Pablo each had eight children.

When Tio Pablo married Tia Atring (Beatriz Medina)  and moved in with his in-laws in Ligas, Bacoor, Cavite, he found out that the learned folks from that side of the river* used Torrijos instead of Torrejos as last name.  He thought Torrijos must be the right name.   His parents (my grandparents) were illiterate and he believed they were more prone to making a mistake, so he changed his last name to Torrijos.  Therefore, the only surviving brothers had  last names with different spellings.  He tried convincing my father to follow his lead, but my father never budged.  The Torrejoses from our side of the river maintained their last name.

Although born into poverty, Tio Pablo was never in doubt that he could overcome all the roadblocks thrown his way.  Like my father, he was hard-working; unlike my father, he was ambitious and adventurous.  Tatay was happy and content farming the land his landlord entrusted to him, go fishing in the river and in the open sea to augment family needs, and then go to the cockpit when not tending to his farm or animals.  While Tio Pablo also farmed,  his sense of curiosity and adventure made him explore other opportunities - first, within the immediate community; then around the country; and  later on, and even in his advanced years, here in the US.  He was always looking for something new, for something extra-ordinary, for something that could make their life better.

For as long as I can remember, they had sampaguita (jasmine) orchards.  Together with his sons and farmhands, he tended to the what seemed to me endless rows of sampaguita shurbs while Tia Atring, their daughters and the other young ladies in the neighborhood painstakingly picked the flowers and made small leis out of them.  They bundled these leis and supplied the vendors in downtown Manila. The leis were peddled mainly to church-goers who offer the leis to the statues of their favorite saints, or to people who love the smell of the country's national flower.

He was such a story-teller.  He shared many of his adventures with me - and through his eyes, I saw the places he visited, the people he met, and the the adventures he experienced.  He had always been generous to us, with his time, with his love and with whatever he could share;  and all of us, his nephews and nieces,  loved him in return.

Tio Pablo was a loving and faithful husband to Tia Atring; a dedicated and supportive father to his eight  children; a thoughtful and respectful brother to my father; a doting uncle to us; and a man of unwavering faith in his God.

As we miss Tio Pablo, we will remember fondly the time we had the pleasure of spending with him.


* The Zapote River separated the province of Cavite from the former province of Rizal.  There were two barrio Zapotes - one was Zapote, Las Pinas, Rizal, and the other was Zapote, Bacoor, Cavite.  We lived in Pamplona, the barrio next to Zapote, Las Pinas and they lived in Ligas, two barrios away from Zapote, Bacoor.  Hence, the brothers were separated by the Zapote River.