Chapter LII: Take and Receive
Even during the height of the pandemic, life refuses to stop moving. Construction continues slowly at the new house beside the old Caluipat residence. Every sack of cement, every steel bar, every hollow block represents sacrifice. Ben and Meric save money wherever they can. There are no luxuries. There are no vacations. There is only work, patience, and determination.
Before Meric's operation, the second floor finally begins taking shape. The roofing is installed first. For the first time, the upper level no longer feels exposed to the sky. The workers spend weeks carrying materials up and down makeshift ladders. The sound of hammers becomes a familiar part of everyday life. Metal sheets clatter. Cement mixers rumble.
Little by little, the house grows. The second floor receives tiled flooring, its walls are plastered, sliding windows are installed, and doors are fitted into place. An iron-clad northern wall protects the structure from strong winds coming from the open fields. Though the ceiling is still absent and electrical works remain incomplete, the house finally begins to resemble a true home.
Many evenings, Meric stands outside and stares upward. She remembers the promise Rico made years ago. She remembers Mercy's dreams for them. She remembers all the hardships that led them here. She is proud of what their hardship's earned went into. The house is not perfect, but it is theirs.
Unfortunately, shortly after Meric's successful operation and recovery, another problem emerges. This time, it concerns Reina, as the younger dog begins acting strangely. At first, nobody notices. Yet, she becomes less playful, and she eats less than before. Her usual bursts of energy disappear. Instead of running around the yard, she spends more time lying down. Her eyes seem tired and her movements appear slower. Ben notices it first.
"Ma, something's wrong with her."
Meric kneels beside the dog. Reina weakly lifts her head. Her tail gives only a small wag. That is enough to make Meric worry.
The next day, Ben and Meric decide not to wait any longer. They carefully bring Reina to an animal clinic in Hermosa using the motorcycle. The trip is slow and arduous. Meric holds the dog securely while Ben drives. Neither speaks much. The anxiety speaks for itself.
Inside the clinic, the veterinarian performs examinations. As they wait for it, the results are not good. The doctor explains that Reina is suffering from a serious infection involving her reproductive organs. Treatment is possible, however, it will require lots of medications. The prescription alone costs nearly three thousand pesos.
Ben exhales heavily as three thousand pesos is not a small amount especially after hospital bills, construction expenses and during difficult times. Yet neither of them hesitate. Money can be earned again and replaced. Life though cannot. Reina cannot be replaced. Without a second thought, the medications are purchased immediately.
Back at home, everyone hopes. Every dose is administered carefully. Every meal is monitored. Every improvement becomes a reason to celebrate. Every setback becomes another source of worry. For a few hours, Reina appears slightly better, then she weakens again.
However, the ups and downs of Reina's health is like balanced or so it was. One dawn, Mark wakes unusually early. The sky outside remains dark, yet the air is cool. Silence blankets the house. Yet amidst that silence, another sound emerges. Someone is sobbing, painful and broken. Mark instantly sits upright, his heart begins pounding. Something is wrong, he knows it before he even opens the door. Slowly, he walks outside.
Then he freezes. Reina lies motionless on the floor. Meric kneels beside her, tears stream down her face. The dog's eyes stare blankly. Her body is stiff, cold, and still. At this point, Reina is already gone. For several seconds, Mark cannot move. The reality crashes into him, then tears begin falling.
"No..."
His voice cracks.
"No..."
Ben emerges shortly afterward. The sight hits him immediately. He lowers his head and his shoulders shake. Even he cannot stop himself from crying. Nearby, Raffy approaches. The older dog sniffs Reina repeatedly. He nudges her once, twice, or thrice. He waits for her to stand, bark, or even wake up. But she never does. The realization slowly reaches even him. The yard feels emptier than before.
To give Reina a proper farewell, Ben searches for a sturdy box. He carefully lines it with a towel. Gently, they place Reina inside. Mark strokes her fur one final time.
"You were a good girl."
His voice trembles.
"Thank you."
The funeral is simple, yet heartfelt. Ben and Mark travel to Saddeg carrying the box. The journey feels much longer than usual. Upon arriving, Ben's stepfather helps prepare a burial site. The soil is soft. The grave is dug carefully. Neither Ben nor Mark say much. There are moments when grief becomes too deep for words.
Then, the box is lowered, and the earth covers it slowly, respectfully, and quietly. Afterward, Mark searches nearby and finds yellow bell flowers. He gathers several blossoms, then places them atop the grave. A simple wooden stick is planted beside them. It's nothing grand, nor expensive, yet somehow perfect. It's a symbol of love, remembrance, and a family member who will never be forgotten.
Back home, only Raffy remains. The old dog is aging, and a cataract clouds his eyes. His movements are slower now. Even his bark sounds different. Watching him, everyone realizes a difficult truth. Time is catching up with him too.
Still, they smile whenever they remember Reina, especially the famous socket incident.
One afternoon, Ben accidentally receives a mild shock while working near an electrical outlet. Before anyone can react, Reina charges toward the socket and begins barking furiously. The dog barks not at Ben but at the outlet as if the socket personally offended her owner and as if she intends to challenge electricity herself. The memory always makes them laugh.
And now, as tears subside, they will always remember her. Not just through photos, but also in memories and remembrance.
Months pass, exactly four months after Meric's operation, another milestone arrives. It's Mark's moving-up ceremony. The family becomes excited. Meric prepares early and Ben takes time off. Everyone looks forward to the occasion.
At the Divine Word College of Hermosa, preparations are underway. While visiting the campus, Meric goes to talk with Mark's class adviser, Dr. Rosuman. She is formerly Ms. Fortuna, the very same teacher who once taught Rico and Mercy decades ago. Yet instead of teaching Filipino, she is teaching Biology and a crucial critique in research. Time has changed her title, yet not her warmth.
She greets Meric near her office. "Ah, Mrs. Lamento"
Their conversation quickly turns toward Mark. Dr. Rosuman reviews his records, achievements, performance, and growth. Then she pauses at the family information. Her expression softens.
"I still remember your mother Mercy. Mercedes and Rico."
Meric nods quietly. The familiar ache returns.
"I am sorry for your loss."
"Thank you, Doc."
Dr. Rosuman smiles gently.
"You know, your son is very bright."
Meric feels pride rising within her chest.
"He works hard, and it shows. Nalaing deta anakmo, Meric. (You son is excellent, Meric.)"
The words stay with her.
Adrion's moving up also comes up, but he is in the regular class and his moving up in a different schedule.
On moving-up day, everyone dresses properly. The atmosphere is festive as students arrive with parents. Teachers smile and photographers move everywhere. The ceremony begins with a Eucharistic Celebration. The auditorium fills with prayer and song.
After the Mass, the parents and students of SSC 10 exit since they're the first batch, the pioneer class or one could say trailblazers of the program. Mark is among them. Only the lower grade levels remain.
Then, the ceremony starts. Parents accompany their children. One by one, they walk through an arc formed by ceremonial swords. Cameras flash continuously. Applause echoes throughout the hall. Then comes the recognition. When Mark's name is called, Meric feels tears forming. Mark receives With Honors. Mark walks confidently, not the broken child who lost his grandmother years ago nor the frightened boy who struggled through grief. But someone stronger, determined, and growing. Meric imagines her mother watching. She would smile, and be the proudest grandma for their grandson. In fact, she is there in spirit, watching Mark receiving his medals and certificate.
The celebration continues afterward at a venue in Saddeg. Food fills the tables, conversations fill the air, and laughter returns. For a little while, life feels normal again.
Then two days later, it's July 27. It's an ordinary morning or so everyone believes. At approximately 8:43 AM, Mark prepares to meet Michael for a hangout at XenTea. Meric stands near the counter, holding a comb. Mark sits nearby.
Suddenly, the ground moves. At first it feels subtle like standing on a floating platform. Then stronger and much stronger. The house sways and objects rattle. The floor ripples beneath their feet. Mark's eyes widen. Meric immediately begins praying.
"Hail Mary, Full of Grace the Lord is with yo- Mark! Pray!"
The earthquake intensifies as the walls creak, and furniture trembles. For endless seconds, everything shakes. Then it stops and a heavy silence follows. The family remains inside and neighbors rushes outside. Phones begin ringing.
News spreads rapidly. Damage appears throughout the province. Churches suffer cracks. Historic structures sustain damage. Old buildings weaken. One of the most notable is the facade of Hermosa Cathedral whose parts of its plastered façade fell. Pardas Church suffers visible damage. Asuncion Church is affected. Tinayuman Church reports structural issues. A house along General Antonio Street sustains severe damage.
Yet perhaps the most shocking footage comes from Guardino. The famous Guardino Tower nearly collapses. Videos circulate rapidly. Bricks fall, and tourists run. Dust fills the air. The 400-year old structure sways frighteningly. Everyone watches in disbelief. History itself seems vulnerable. Yet somehow, despite everything, their house survives. Not perfectly, but standing strong. It's a blessing, and it's a miracle.
Then, only two months later, another farewell approaches. This one is far more personal. Raffy's health begins declining rapidly. The signs are unmistakable. He barely eats, sleeps constantly, his breathing changes, and his eyes lose their brightness. The family understands. The time is coming.
One noon, Raffy slowly approaches Meric. He seems to want something like something important. He looks toward the window, then back at her and toward the window again. Meric immediately understands what he means. She gently picks him up, carries him, and lets him see the outside world. He sees the large mango tree, the houses, and sunlight. This is the view he always loved.
For several minutes, Raffy simply watches peacefully, quietly, and with content. But Meric cannot bear what comes next. She begins to cry, and steps away. Mark takes her place. The old dog is placed carefully inside a long laundry basket, like a bed, in which was Raffy's personal bed. Yet, it feels like a resting place.
Mark kneels beside him. He begins praying.
"Lord, let Your will be done."
Tears fall.
"If it is time, please let him live in paradise."
He leans forward, and kisses Raffy gently. The dog opens his eyes, and looks directly at him.
Then, one final breath, another, then none. Silence and his eyes become still. Mark breaks down. Meric rushes over and Ben follows. Jonn arrives at the scene, Rico too. The entire family mourns. Another chapter closes and another part of the family departs. Mercy's "Arimunding-munding" dies.
Far beyond mortal sight, Mercy watches, tears fill her eyes. The grief of her family reaches her. Yet when she looks beside her, she smiles. Running across a bright field are two familiar figures. It's Reina and Raffy. They are healthy, playful, and happy. They are together again, in spirit form. Mercy kneels and embraces them. The dogs wag their tails enthusiastically. There is no more pain, no sickness, and no suffering.
Back in Caluipat, Raffy is buried within the garden he loved. Rico personally creates a grave marker. A simple black wooden board, with the dog's birthday and death date. The family gathers there afterward. The garden feels quieter. Yet strangely comforting, because love never truly disappears. It changes shape, and it becomes memory, gratitude, and stories shared years later.
"Ti pannakapukaw da, innayonda ti biagda para kaniak yenti pannakaoperar ko. (Their passing, they added they lives to me when I got operated.)", Meric says, realizing the presence of both Raffy and Reina back then, like they waited for her to finish her surgery, and to see her afterwards again, before passing away.
And as the evening sun shines gently across the Caluipat garden, two small graves remind everyone that even the shortest lives can leave the deepest pawprints upon the heart.