I miss those long walks to V. Mapa from the U.P. As soon as fg closed the Listening Center for the day, we’d start our trek, from U.P. through what is now EDSA (formerly Highway 54), or through what is now East Ave., then turn right at Cubao, on through Aurora Blvd. It was indeed a long walk, but I never tired of listening to fg or of walking, though we’d sometimes take a break and buy a Sunkist orange at Cubao, or Horlicks candies at any grocery store along the way. fg never seemed to get thirsty or hungry or tired. Although I’d learn later, that even if he took the bus on the way back home, by the time he got back at U.P., it would be so late that the eateries would be closed, and he’d just wait for the itinerant balut vendor, rather common yet then. Nowadays it’s rare, if ever, that I hear a balut vendor pass by our place on campus.
But even if I missed those walks, and the time alone with fg, which had become rare with the coming of our children, I really wasn’t anymore up to it. As I’d always tell him, back then, when I arrived at home, I’d just take perhaps a late supper that Doray had cooked, take a bath and then plop into bed, tired. In the morning, I’d change into clothes that Carmelita had already washed and ironed for me and eat breakfast that Doray had prepared. Whereas, when we had our own family, in addition to my graduate classes, or Law, I had to attend to our children, some of whom were already of school age, while some were infants or toddlers who needed my care. When we had no help, I had to do the day-to-day, mundane chores which were nevertheless necessary.
fg understood. As a husband, he was very helpful with the house, the children, the chores, in addition to his teaching and other duties at the U.P. He’d always tell me, jokingly, but truthfully, that I’d never find another like him.
By the way, the title of this message is from fg’s poem, “Myself Only For Song”. He’d always, and periodically during our long walks, quote these lines, esp., such that, 47 years later, i still remember them vividly. The above was how he always recited it, but the actual lines are:
this is the usual road we tread
always descending, forever bare
and half the season quenched
I’ve always believed that, of his generation, fg was one of the best poets. And this was also the opinion of the late esteemed mentor Prof. Leopoldo Y. Yabes, in his article for Poetry Encyclopedia, which he wrote shortly before he passed away in 1986. In that same article, it was also Prof. Yabes’ opinion that the greatest Filipino poet of the time was not Jose Garcia Villa, but Ricaredo Demetillo, whose body of works is more substantial than Villa’s. While it was Villa who drew international attention to Filipino poetry, and is even considered an American poet, as evidenced by the inclusion of his poems in American poetry anthologies, Demetillo later surpassed Villa, both in the volume and variety of his works, the more notable of which are the epic poem “Panay Barter” and the play “The Heart of Emptiness is Black”.