BENCHWARMER

Gentle souls
RAMON DACAWI

BAGUIO CITY -- There’s nothing wrong with living with less. Some skip one or two bottles of beer, or opt for a simple rather than a lavish wedding, and send what’s spared to people out there who’re trying to survive on empty. It’s pure reward having met some of these gentle souls, some in person, others through the phone or the e-mail. There’s that kid, a police officer’s son who asked his mom, a court employee, to cancel his party two days before he was to turn seven, and hand the cash for the birthday bash to the mom of a sick baby. So did a lawyer’s daughter, so then four-year old Tofi Estepa could be freed of a pesky brain tumor.
There’s that young girl who had her mom look for singer-for-a-cause Conrad Marzan and hand him her piggy bank – a family size plastic Coke bottle – also for Tofi. There is Lorie Ramos (in the present tense, for her memory lingers), a 43-year old widow and mother of a 10-year old boy. She called up in the middle of her second bout against cancer, to ask if somebody could pick up her support to Noney Padilla-Marzan, then also afflicted with the big C.

Lorie and Noney - two women of substance – eventually got in touch and became friends. They spent time talking over the phone, even when the malignant cells had reduced Lorie’s voice to a whisper, with more urgency when Noney could no longer walk to the pedia cancer ward where she spent the last two years of her life comforting kids who, like her, had lost their hair to chemo.

Lorie visited to bid goodbye, straining to be understood that she had accepted the inevitable, that she was bringing her kid to her sister’s home in Quezon City where she rested before and after each chemo, and where he would grow up. “She’s asking for you, asking you to call,” Noney said after Lorie called her. Unsure of what to say, I never called the number Noney relayed. The regret for not having still gnaws.

I do get calls now and then. The latest was last Tuesday, for me to pick up P2,000 from a establishment I’ve frequented before for the same purpose. It was for two-year old Edlyn Joy Dacanay of Loakan and 53-year old Cristina Lagasca of Pacdal.The note said it was for their chemo fund, against tumor of the coccyx for the baby and against breast cancer for the mother of three.

The amount came from a mother and son, from the same family that, last February, wrote out a check for P50,000 that was distributed to those who couldn’t afford treatment. That was when the mother was to leave Baguio for her own check-up against cancer. The family name would ring a bell, but I was sworn to keep to myself since the woman began issuing checks several years back.

Baguio boy Freddie de Guzman connected from Canada last month. The architect who grew up at DPS Compound and Dagsian and studied at St. Louis University said he had just lost his job, but will resume support transmittal next month. He asked how :Linda (not her real name), a 52-year old widow and mother of nine, was.

She delivered me a jackfruit, which I ate for you, I replied. The better news is her recent check-up, funded by an anonymous donor who coursed the support through banker Rolly de Guzman, cleared her of breast cancer. Freddie had bankrolled her six chemotherapy sessions three years ago.

And how’s (seven-year old leukemia victim) John Brix (de Guzman)? The kid’s fighting tough. How about (dialysis patient) Filbert (Almoza)? And Grace, widow of cancer victim Elmer Biogan? And Nora (not her real name, a mother undergoing psychiatric care)? And (cancer survivor) Rose Ann Cordova?

They are some of those Freddie and an Ibaloi woman raising her daughter in the United States began reaching out to in April three years back. We went to the same school with the Ibaloi Samaritan who’s four years my junior. Freddie knows her elder sisters who used to offer him refreshments whenever he and other boys would pass by their house in their youthful hikes along Kennon Road.

“Pray, manong, that this will not be my last transmittal,” she e-mailed last June. Her work contract had just ended and she’s undergoing post-cancer check-up.

Still, she sent $250 that went to Rosa Ann’s check-up, Filbert’s dialysis, Nora’s baby Jason’s infant formula, and maintenance dose for Ernelle Ruth Acyapas, a seven-month old baby stricken with encephalitis.

The wonders of the internet got me connected two years ago with Princess Lea, her chatroom name. She started e-wagwagan, an e-bay inspired fund drive for 10-year old heart patient Santy John Tuyan. She ended up covering bulk of the surgery costs. “By all means, use what remains (of the fund) for other patients,” she advised the other month. It supported Divina Amor, a 21-year old nurse praying for deliverance from breast cancer, Rose Ann, Nora’s kid, another woman battling the big C, and the family of an office worker who recently succumbed to breast cancer.

There’s this good-looking banker who used to locate Conrad to support his concerts-for-a-cause. When Conrad teamed up with Joel Aliping in Northern California, the banker tapped me as messenger “To whoever needs it most,” he would advise whenever he could spare something from his pocket.

There’s nothing wrong with living with less. Still, I’m awed as Rolly and former concert organizer Pok Chan are. Both uttered on separate occasions, “Adda pay la gayam tattao nga kasta, ania.” As I was beating the press deadline, Edgar texted from the hospital: Adda nangited P500 agkabsat Irwin ken Juliet Ilustre.” (e-mail:rdacawi@yahoo.com for comments).