Jennifer Perey de Alas: 1976–2024

^{I will love you till the end of time.}

Jennifer “Yeyette” Perey de Alas, my beautiful wife of close to a quarter of a century, has joined our Creator last April 25. She would have turned 48 this June 11.

Cancer was the underlying cause of her death. Her breast cancer, the ailment which she had been battling since 2020, metastasized to her brain and lungs. It also caused pericardial effusion (antecedent cause). But the initial cause of her death was pneumonia. The cancer cells in her body already weakened her immune system.

She was buried in her captivating hometown of Abra de Ílog, Mindoro Occidental, together with the remains of her beloved grandparents and other relatives. It was her final wish.

Shortly before her demise, I was able to contact Fr. Jojo Zerrudo, the same priest who married us on 13 September 2013. She was already on the throes of death, already unconscious. But the moment Fr. Zerrudo was to give her a small piece of the Eucharist (Viaticum), she suddenly opened her eyes to receive It. It was a miracle.

A few hours later, at 4:10 AM, April 25, she gave up the ghost.

But she didn’t want to die. About an hour after receiving the Viaticum, she still regained some semblance of consciousness, fighting off nurses who tried to connect her to an oxygen machine. Moments before her death, I saw her left hand clench into a fist.

She was literally fighting death.

Yeyette didn’t want to die not because she was afraid of dying. She didn’t want to die because she was afraid of leaving us, of leaving me alone with our children. Because she knew that I am not “father material”, that I couldn’t do it on my lonesome. Her fight against death was borne out of love for us. She didn’t want to leave us because she loved us so much. Her love was so immense it would have outshone the sun.

My beautiful wife, the mother of our five children, was gone. We promised each other that we will grow old together. But cancer broke that promise…

Twenty-three days have passed since Yeyette joined our Creator. I have been weeping every single day since she left. And today is by far the most difficult day of my grieving (and to think that it’s not yet even a month of her passing). I have cried so many times even without the slightest provocation. There was no need for a song nor a picture of hers to well up emotions. Like Taal and Mayón, I just break down without warning.

After my night shift, as I was saying my morning prayers in front of our “altarcito”, I felt a heaving inside my chest, and broke down afterwards. In between sobs, I uttered aloud, that may she appear to me, even if just for a brief moment, ridiculous as it may seem. I clutched the Mass card sent to me by her dear friend Fritzy Barredo and read its text while weeping.

I was nonplussed when my intellect suddenly questioned the existence of the afterlife. For a moment, my faith suddenly wobbled down and lost its ground. In my desperation to hopefully embrace her one day, I started looking for answers, for a semblance of reason that there is hope that I would be able to do so. Somewhere out there, is she really waiting for me and our children? Are souls indeed real? Is she really watching over us? Does she miss us? If Heaven is a place where there is no more pain nor sorrow, how does she feel now seeing me in anguish down here? Does she and many others who have departed throughout the centuries still have the same human emotions? Or are they now enjoying neoteric ones that are hitherto unknown or inaccessible to mortals like us?

Yeyette had a childhood sweetheart who died years ago. Are they together again as lovers? When my life ends, will I see them together, or will she have to choose between us? She died at 47. What if I reach the age of 90? What if her children outgrow her? How will we end up together in Heaven?

Or was April 25 really the end for her, that there is actually no soul and that she is nothing more now but just worm and ant food? That after all these years of defending and living my faith, I am actually believing in a systematized delusion? Quoting from a short story written by my friend Joe Bert Lazarte: Yeyette will never be back no matter how many billions of years will pass, even if all her flesh bleeds dry and turns into dust right at this very moment, and all matter in the universe implodes into nothingness…

I wept again and started to question my disbelief. I struggled to get up, to prepare for another day. The corner of my eye caught our altarcito. Spiritually embarrassed for this brief interlude of skepticism, my thoughts started to wrestle between belief and disbelief. I am sure that this is just a phase, that all those who had grieved before me experienced the exact same thing, that all my questions have been answered before, and that I just haven’t encountered them yet. Who am I to question a faith that has been defended and developed by minds far greater than mine?

Catechism teaches us that “Heaven is the blessed community of all who are perfectly incorporated into Christ.” There, Yeyette and I will no longer be husband and wife. Simply put, we will not be exactly the same as we were in this world. Our existence will no longer be about us, it will all be about adoring God for all eternity.

But I do not want our love for each other to end. So here I weep again…

* * * * * * *

EMBRACE ETERNAL
(written a few hours before her interment on May 3)

This afternoon we inter you
in your beloved Abra de Ílog
together with the bones
of those who reared you.
Though you left me shivering
in this sweltering heat
(your favorite season)
I will be steadfast with the
hopeful thought
that the warmth of your embrace
will always be with me
as I sorrowfully soldier on
in this Valley of Tears.

Advocacy gives meaning to life

I have just finished discussing the meaning of the word “advocacy” with Junífera Clarita. I asked her if she has heard of it. She said no. So I explained it to her in the simplest way a nine-year-old kid would understand.

I told her that it is what a person is fighting for. It is a mission, a personal purpose. I cited to her an easy example which she is very familiar with: myself. She and her siblings are already aware that I advocate for the return of the Spanish language in our country. I explained to her that it used to be the language of Filipinas, that it was the language of our patriots, most especially José Rizal, and that it used to be taught in schools. I asked her if Spanish is being taught in her school. She said no.

“See?” I replied. “In the past, Spanish used to be taught in schools. But not anymore. And that is what I am fighting for. That is the reason why I always write about it in my social media accounts. Because I believe that when Filipinos learn Spanish, they will be able to recover their dignity which will bring them closer to Jesus Christ. Because Spanish is a part of us Filipinos.”

I also told her that I have another advocacy: the environment. The protection of nature. Because it is God’s gift to us. That is why we should value it.

For a brief moment, I paused and thought if I should devote more time to the environment than my fight for the return of the Spanish language. I think I should, given the alarming status of our environment.

I then cited a few other examples to make it more clearer to her. There are people who advocate for the women’s rights, people who advocate for the rights of poor children to have toys, people who advocate for sports, etc. I then asked her what she would like to advocate for. She also said the environment Well and good.

In closing, I told her that a person who has no advocacy is a dead person. He is alive, yes, but he is like a mindless robot who functions only to wake up, eat, then sleep. A worthless life. But a person who advocates for something is a person who has a heart, who is fully alive, and lives a meaningful life, a life with a purpose. I explained to her that even if I am a poor man, I do not feel that my life is meaningless because of what I am advocating for.

Throught it all, my daughter was attentive. And I’m glad she was.

PS: She has been studying Spanish for the past three weeks via Duolingo, so I told her that the Spanish for advocacy is “apoyo” or “defensa“.

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Easter Sunday musings

 ^{_{“La Resurrección de Cristo“, tempera on pine wood board by Juan Correa de Vivar (circa 16th century).}}

I had an awfully difficult Holy Week. Instead of reflection and devotion, it was a week filled with anger, hurt, and even rage. 2024 in the first place didn’t start out right for me.

In January, I forever lost contact with the man whom I considered not only as my mentor of many years but also as my very own father. All because I was trying to answer his plea for me to help him from his manipulative and paranoid son. In the end, his son painted me as the villain. And I am forever banned from seeing him again.

Last February, my wife almost died. She had heart surgery due to a complication caused by her spreading cancer. We were charged more than a million pesos for it. For three frantic weeks, I desperately begged for financial help. I did receive plenty of aid from countless kindhearted people, most of whom were total strangers to me. But I didn’t receive any help at all —not even a simple consolatory message— from those whom I expected to be there for me. My father’s immediate family members and many close friends and associates totally abandoned me in my hour of need. So I swore to myself to never communicate with them ever again.

And just this month, or a few days ago, I was disrespected and humiliated by an alcoholic cousin-in-law when I defended his battered wife (my cousin) and his son (my nephew) from him and his hooligan cousins and friends. I really wanted to beat him up but couldn’t because of several circumstances: I was hopelessly outnumbered, his uncle owns the apartment unit where my family lives, etc.

Each time I tried to reflect on the significance of the Paschal Triduum, the abovementioned incidents became a difficult hurdle to overcome. Each rosary bead was enunciated with spite within me. Each waking day was met with rancor and resentment, and all nights filled with unrest.

I wanted revenge. I wanted retribution.

My sane mind tells me to forgive them, as God forgives me from my sins. But hatred always triumphs over my better judgment. My lame excuse: I’m only human.

To make matters worse, the spiteful emotions brewing inside me were compounded with grief and fear as I am faced with the scary thought that my wife is slowly dying.

I am not the type to question God for my fate, why the abovementioned incidents happened to me in monthly succession, nor to wonder what plans He has in store for me. For sure, He did not cause my wife’s cancer, nor did He want strife to occur between me and other people. For sure, He had wanted nothing but the best for me — for all of us. But I find it illogical to have an implicitly determinist view of God’s relationship with us mere mortals.

He gave us all freewill. But freewill has its ramifications. Those ramifications were what caused the ordeals that I had to face and endure. The only problem is how I overcome the negative feelings inside me to receive the graces that He is willing to give me through fervent and incessant prayer. This past Holy Week, I think I failed in that division.

Of course it is not too late. Because here I am writing about it and sharing it to you. I may be battle-weary but have never lost faith, and I am confident I never will. I am certain, too, that I will face more trials and tribulations for as long as I live, “mourning and weeping in this valley of tears”. Such is life, as they always say.

If there is anything I learned from all of this… I guess anger is really a gift because it reminds me of how truly weak I am, that I am not a great person, and that my anger signals me that God is just there waiting for me to have Him take full control of my emotions.

I am a forgiving person, but right now I am not ready for it as I am severely battered and bruised. But I will allow the hopeful notion that “time heals all wounds” to take its due course and see if it works. With God’s grace and guidance.

Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ suffered more than I did. The hurt that I felt was nothing more but a slap on the wrist compared to what he went through. Yet there was not a single drop of anger in Him. That is what I —or we— need to learn.

¡Alégrate! ¡Jesús ha resucitado! ¡Feliz Pascua de Resurrección!

Cancer can hit anyone

Cancer can hit anyone. It doesn’t recognize between rich and poor, healthy or unhealthy, young and old, good or evil. Whether you’ve done nothing but good towards your fellowmen, whether you’ve been living a healthy lifestyle or not, it can and will still victimize you.

Cancer can hit even the healthiest person, so all theories explaining its causes (stressful lifestyle, eating too much processed food, genetics, etc.) remain just that: theories. Even if you have completed all chemotherapy and radiotherapy sessions to heal yourself of cancer, even if you have taken all the best pharmaceutical and/or herbal medications in the world, the disease can still take your life. No amount of wealth can save you from it.

Cancer might disappear, yes. But it can reappear. Even the best oncologists in the world do not understand its remissions and confusing reappearances and progressions. The only thing they can guarantee you is that cancer is a treacherous opponent.

Cancer affects not only the patient but also that person’s loved ones. The toll of trying to save that patient’s life usually becomes too much to bear and affects not only the finances but also the mental health of the people surrounding the afflicted.

It is unchristian —and beyond medical logic— to insinuate that cancer is caused by karma (which is a non-Christian belief in the first place). It doesn’t even matter if you’ve lived a saintly life — think of Saints Pellegrino Laziosi, Chiara Badano, Gemma Galgani, Aldegundis, etc., all of whom died from various types of cancer while living holy lives. Compare them to rich but corrupt people who had lived long but fruitful lives towards the end.

Ultimately, only God can save us from cancer. Only He can decide if we should survive from it. And I believe that only in the Afterlife will we fully understand why, in His Divine Wisdom, did He allow the existence of this malevolent disease.

So do not celebrate that the person you hate has cancer because of some casuistic Eastern principle. Do not even wish this disease upon your worst enemy. Because cancer can hit anyone.

We can only have each other to hold on to.

* * * * * * *

Please help me save my wife Yeyette. She has been battling cancer for four years. It has already affected her heart. She is still in the hospital because I couldn’t pay her bills after her emergency heart surgery. Then after this ordeal, she will undergo another round of chemotherapy sessions. I am sorry, but I cannot do this alone. I really, really can’t. I am sorry for literally begging. But this is the only option that I know of.

BDO
Branch: BDO San Pedro
Account name: José Mario S. Alas
Account number: 001190539223

Bank of the Philippine Islands
Branch: Ortigas Emerald
Account name: José Mario S. Alas
Account number: 9829-0918-41

Land Bank of the Philippines
Branch: Landbank San Pedro City
Account name: José Mario S. Alas
Account number: 2387-0391-23

GCash
Jim Allen Diezon
09128817823

GoGetFunding: https://gogetfunding.com/please-help-me-raise-funds-for-my-wifes-enormous-medical-bills/

For now, only God can repay your generosity and concern. Mil gracias a todos.

Pepe

An ashy Valentine’s Day

I’m now part of the social media team of Our Lady of Fatima Parish – Elvinda, San Pedro Laguna. The short article below is my first contribution to their Facebook page:

Have a blessed Lenten Season, everyone.

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¡Feliz Año 2024!

^{📷 George Tapan}.

Cada vez que comienza un nuevo año, solemos preguntarnos esto: —¿qué me espera para el nuevo año?

Pero un año no tiene nada almacenado para ti. Un año es sólo un número, un contenedor vacío. Más bien, deberíamos preguntarnos con qué podemos llenar el año 2024. Es absurdo esperar que un año nos depare algo bueno o malo. Somos nosotros quienes debemos llenarlo con cualquier cosa con la que queramos llenarlo. Esa debería ser nuestra mentalidad cada vez que comienza un nuevo año.

A todos los que lean esto (familiares, amigos, seguidores, críticos, etc.), rezo que las bendiciones, las gracias, y la misericordia de Dios se derramen sobre todos nosotros este nuevo año. ¡Feliz y Próspero 2024 a todos!

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Navidad 2023

_{^{🎨 SaltaConmigo.}}

A todos los que lean esto solo quiero que reciban mis saludos navideños: ¡Feliz Navidad!

Sé que ha sido un año difícil para todos nosotros. Todos tuvimos que luchar contra diversas situaciones, lamentablemente contra amigos, colegas, familiares, e incluso contra nuestros propios demonios personales. Pero al final del año, todavía estamos aquí, todavía vivos y coleando, y listos para comenzar de nuevo para otra batalla. Como siempre dicen, la vida es un viaje.

Nuestra existencia es en sí misma una batalla militante contra la negatividad, contra todo lo malévolo. Nunca es fácil vivir. Es por eso que en este día especial, debemos estar agradecidos por la venida de nuestro Señor y Salvador Jesucristo, Él que es Dios encarnado para salvarnos a todos de este mundo muchas veces injusto que, tarde o temprano, dejará de existir. Nuestro verdadero propósito no es encontrar el éxito en este mundo sino cómo alcanzar Su reino eterno.

Una vez más, ¡Feliz Navidad a todos vosotros, y qué el verdadero espíritu de la Navidad esté siempre en nuestros corazones!

Why do we have “Noche Buena”?

During the Spanish times, when Catholicism still reigned with fervor burning, Filipinos did not eat on the entire day of Christmas Eve. They practiced fasting in preparation for Christmas Day, the only time they were finally allowed to eat, but in festive spirit. This explains why there is so much food during Noche Buena, a practice which now secularized Filipinos, who no longer fast, still hold dearly to this day.

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Misa de Gallo, Simbáng Gabí, or Misa de Aguinaldo?

 ^{Misa de Aguinaldo at the Holy Family Church in Cubáo, Quezon City, circa 2014 (Maurice Joseph Almadrones)}

The traditional nine-day Christmas Season dawn Masses begin today. People have been calling it either as Misa de Gallo, Simbáng Gabí, or Misa de Aguinaldo. But which of the three, really, is the precise term? Is it acceptable if we just use them interchangeably?

First of all, it should be clarified that Misa de Aguinaldo is just the same as Simbáng Gabí. The Tagálog term, however, seems to be a recent coinage — it was never used during the Spanish times and US occupation era. It had always been Misa de Aguinaldo.

Secondly, there is a difference between the Misa de Gallo and the Misa de Aguinaldo / Simbáng Gabí. The first refers to the midnight Mass celebrated on Christmas Eve. The second pertains to the nine-day votive Masses celebrated in the early hours of the morning before Christmas Day (from the 16th to the 24th).

While a literal translation of Misa de Gallo would be “Mass of the Cock”, the term really means “Midnight Mass” as it is celebrated on Christmas Eve. Pope Sisto III (Sixtus III) instituted it in the third century and was celebrated for the first time at the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome. The name came to be because it was at midnight when the first cockcrow is usually heard in the ancient city.

Also, Filipinos know that the word aguinaldo is synonymous to “regalo” which means gift. The Real Academia Española defines aguinaldo as “que se da en Navidad o en la fiesta de la Epifanía” or a gift given at Christmas or on the feast of the Epiphany.

But where is the gift-giving in Misa de Aguinaldo?

The origin of the Misa de Aguinaldo can be traced back to the Masses celebrated at dawn, nine days before Christmas in honor of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. In the early days, churches in Spain were in the habit of providing food to the poor right after each dawn Mass. This corporal act of mercy is called Aguinaldo, and the gifts that the religious gave to the poor were called aguinaldos. Pretty soon, the dawn Masses, including the distribution of gifts, became known as “Misas de Aguinaldo“.

Finally, it is not true that the Misa de Aguinaldo was conceptualized to accommodate farmers who start working in the fields before sunrise. As can be gleaned above, this practice originated from Spain. No such accommodation was done for farmers there.

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From Pantheon to “pantiyon“

^{The Pantheon, Rome, Italy (Wikimedia Commons).}

Filipinos in far-flung towns and barrios oftentimes refer to tombstones as panteón*. I first heard the word from my paternal grandmother as a child. I was already steeped into books by then, so when I first heard the word from her, it immediately reminded me of the Pantheon, that famous Roman temple built between the 1st and 2nd centuries. For years, I wondered if the Pantheon of Ancient Rome had any influence over the origin of the word panteón especially since they sound almost the same when uttered.

Later in life, when I was already into etymology (the study of the origin of words), I found out that what I have been suspecting all these years is correct. The local word panteón indeed originated from the Pantheon of Rome. This temple was built by Roman general Marcus Agrippa who was also an architect. It was dedicated to all Roman gods. Years later, when Christianity triumphed over pagan Rome, Pope Boniface IV rededicated the temple to the Virgin Mary and all Christian martyrs, paving the way to the development of the feast of All Saints’ Day.

This same Roman temple became the inspiration for the French revolutionists who, after seizing the Church of Sainte-Geneviève, turned it into what is now known as the Panthéon of Paris. Since then, the word pantheon has been applied to buildings in which illustrious dead are honoured or buried. Here in Filipinas, its local equivalent (panteón) specifically refers to either a tombstone or a mausoleum.

_{* “Pantion” and “pantiyon” are erroneous spellings. Panteón is Spanish for Pantheon. Follow me on Facebook, X, Instagram, and Threads.}