Chapter XXIII: Sangsangka-maysa
The day of Isko's discharge from the hospital finally arrives, bringing with it a mix of excitement and gratitude. The sun shines brightly as Benigno and Christine help him settle into the car, while Shane sits beside him, her presence as reassuring as ever.
"Ready ka na bang makakita ulit ng maraming tao?" Shane teases, a playful smile lighting up her face.
Isko chuckles softly, still a bit weak but visibly uplifted.
"Oo naman. Parang napakatagal ko nang hindi nakakahinga ng sariwang hangin. Salamat sa inyong lahat."
As they drive through the bustling streets of Vigan, the city seems alive with anticipation. Banners and decorations line the roads, announcing the much-awaited Raniag Twilight Festival. It's an annual event that celebrates light, hope, and community, and this year, it feels especially meaningful for Isko and his family.
That evening, the group heads out to join the festivities. Isko feels a renewed sense of energy as they walk through the lively streets, surrounded by vibrant colors and the cheerful hum of laughter and music.
"Ang ganda ng ilaw!" Shane exclaims, pointing at the string lights draped across the buildings.
"Parang nasa ibang mundo tayo."
Christine smiles warmly.
"Tamang-tama, Isko. Para sa bagong simula mo, sakto ang festival na ito."
Benigno nods in agreement, his usual stoic demeanor softened.
"Isang gabi para magdiwang ng bagong buhay at mga bagong alaala."
They start their evening by watching the Street Dancing Parade, where dancers dressed in elaborate, light-up costumes perform synchronized routines. The beat of drums and the rhythm of traditional songs fill the air, making it impossible not to feel the energy.
"Ang gagaling nila," Isko remarks, his eyes wide with admiration.
"Parang walang pagod sa pagsayaw."
"Baka dahil masaya sila sa ginagawa nila," Shane replies, her gaze fixed on the performers.
"Kapag masaya ka, hindi mo mararamdaman ang pagod."
As the parade moves on, the group heads toward the Sky Lantern Release Area. The sight of hundreds of lanterns floating up into the night sky, carrying wishes and dreams, leaves everyone in awe.
"Shane," Isko says, handing her a lantern.
"Halika, mag-wish tayo."
Shane takes the lantern, her face lighting up with excitement.
"Ano kayang magandang i-wish?"
"Bahala ka na," Isko says with a smile.
"Basta siguraduhin mong galing sa puso."
The two write their wishes on the lantern before lighting it together. As it ascends, Shane glances at Isko.
"Alam mo, kahit anong hilingin ko, masaya na ako na nandito ka, Isko."
Isko's heart warms at her words.
"Salamat, Shane. Hindi ko rin alam kung paano ko nalampasan ang lahat kung wala ka."
Benigno and Christine release their lanterns as well, silently praying for Isko's continued recovery and their family's healing. Watching the lanterns drift into the distance, Christine wipes a tear from her eye.
"Ang ganda-ganda ng gabi," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.
Benigno places an arm around her shoulder.
"Oo, at bahagi ka ng kagandahang ito, Christine."
The evening continues with the group exploring food stalls, enjoying local delicacies like empanada and bagnet. Isko savors every bite, the flavors reminding him of home and the people who care for him.
Later, they gather near the Twilight Stage, where local bands perform songs that blend folk and modern music. The melodies seem to echo the sentiments of the festival—hope, love, and renewal.
"Napaka-peaceful ng gabi," Shane says, leaning against Isko as they listen to the music.
"Oo," Isko agrees.
"Parang lahat ng hirap at sakit ay nawala na."
Christine and Benigno exchange a glance, both silently grateful for the transformation in Isko. They see him smiling genuinely, his burdens seemingly lighter.
As the festival winds down, the family walks back toward their car, the glow of lanterns and the hum of music still lingering in the air. Isko looks around, taking in every detail.
"Salamat sa inyo," he says softly, his voice full of sincerity.
"Hindi ko alam kung paano ko magagawang maging ganito kasaya ulit kung wala kayo."
Benigno claps him on the back.
"Hindi ka namin iiwanan, Isko. Nandito lang kami lagi para sa'yo."
Christine nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Ang mahalaga, magkakasama tayo ulit. Yun lang ang importante."
Shane smiles, slipping her hand into Isko's.
"At hindi lang pamilya mo ang nandito para sa'yo, Isko. Lagi akong nandito."
As they drive home under the soft light of the moon, Isko leans back, feeling a peace he hasn't known in years. The festival may have ended, but for him, it marks the beginning of a new chapter filled with hope, love, and endless possibilities.
The cool breeze of November fills the air as Undas, the day to honor departed loved ones, arrives. Isko, Benigno, Christine, and Shane make their way to the Cathedral grounds, where the light of countless candles flickers against the night sky. The scent of burning wax mixes with the solemn murmurs of prayers.
"Dito tayo," Christine says, guiding the group to a small patch of ground near the Cathedral's side.
In Isko's hands, a single candle burns brightly. He kneels, placing it gently before a modest grave marker. The epitaph is simple yet profound:
Reginald Francis De Vera
1997 – 2016
He pauses, staring at the name and the dates etched into the stone. Though he's alive, this gravestone represents the person he once was, a symbol of the life he left behind.
"Hindi ko alam kung paano magsisimula," Isko says, his voice heavy with emotion.
"Pero ito ang tamang panahon para magpaalam."
The small crowd watches silently as Isko stands, his candlelight reflecting the resolve in his eyes.
"Ang pangalan kong Regie ay hindi na ako. Hindi ito namatay dahil sa sakit o aksidente," he begins, his voice steady but heartfelt.
"Namatay ito dahil pinili kong magbago. Pinili kong maging ibang tao—isang mas mabuting tao."
Tears stream down Christine's cheeks as she listens. Benigno nods solemnly, his hand resting on his wife's shoulder.
Shane steps forward, holding her own candle.
"Regie o Isko, kahit ano pang tawag namin sa'yo, isa lang ang totoo. Ikaw ay isang taong mahalaga sa amin. At kung ang pagbabago mo ang dahilan kung bakit naging mas mabuti ka, salamat. Dahil nakilala ka namin bilang Isko."
Christine and Benigno join in. Benigno speaks, his voice deep and full of conviction.
"Isko, patawad kung hindi namin agad naintindihan ang kwento mo. Pero ngayong alam na namin ang lahat, mahalaga ka pa rin sa amin. Hindi kami magsisisi na tinawag kang anak noon, at hindi kami magdadalawang-isip na tawagin kang anak ngayon."
Christine wipes her tears, adding,
"Ang mahalaga ay kung sino ka ngayon, Isko. Ikaw ang binigyan ng bagong buhay. At natutuwa kami na kasama ka pa rin namin."
The family embraces each other under the soft glow of the candles. Isko feels lighter than he has in years, the weight of his past finally lifted.
A month later, the air is filled with the joy of Christmas. The Villanueva family home is adorned with colorful parols and twinkling lights. Inside, the table is laden with a festive feast, from lechon to traditional bibingka and puto bumbong.
Shane sits beside Isko, her cheeks flushed as she listens to Christine's stories about Isko's childhood. Though shy, she's slowly becoming part of the family, and her presence brings a warmth that fills the room.
"Isko," Benigno says, raising a glass of salabat.
"Ngayon, kumpleto ulit ang Pasko namin. Hindi lang dahil nandito ka, pero dahil alam naming masaya ka. At Shane, salamat sa pag-aalaga sa kanya."
Shane blushes, smiling at the compliment.
"Maraming salamat din po sa pagtanggap sa akin."
The evening is filled with laughter, stories, and music. As midnight approaches, they gather around the Christmas tree for gifts and hugs.
For Isko, this Christmas isn't just another holiday—it's a symbol of his rebirth and the love that has surrounded him through his journey.
As the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve, the sky lights up with fireworks, their colors reflecting on the faces of the Villanueva family. Together, they welcome the new year as one—united, happy, and filled with hope.
The last rays of the sun cast a warm golden glow over St. Paul Metropolitan Cathedral, the ever-standing emblem of faith in the heart of Vigan. Inside, the air is still, heavy with an unspoken reverence. Fr. Crisostomo stands at the pulpit, his hands clasped tightly, his face shadowed under the faint flicker of candlelight.
"Maraming taon na ang lumipas," he begins, his voice trembling yet resolute,
"at hindi ko akalaing masasaksihan ko ang ganitong pagtatapos."
The pews are empty save for one or two curious parishioners, but Fr. Crisostomo speaks as if addressing a multitude. His Ilocano accent, rich and melodic, carries a weight of emotion that reverberates throughout the chapel.
"Ket dinak maawat idiay immuna nga aldaw, (At hindi niya ako tinanggap sa unang araw)" he says, his voice cracking.
"Ti Dios ket adda planona ngem kastoy unay ti maaramid ti tao. (Ang Diyos ay may plano, pero madami ang ginagawa ng tao)"
He steps down from the pulpit and approaches the image of Apo Lakay, the revered statue of Christ known for its somber and knowing expression. Fr. Crisostomo kneels before it, his hands trembling as he lights a candle.
"Dios ti agibales," he murmurs, his Ilocano words infused with deep faith.
"Apo Lakay, maysaak nga saksi iti panagbalbaliw ti tao. Nakitaak ti nasaysayaat ken ti naallilaw. (Apo Lakay, ako isang saksi sa pagbabago ng isang tao. Nakita ko ang mabuti at niloko)"
He pauses, letting the silence speak louder than words.
Fr. Crisostomo stands and turns back toward the altar. His eyes glisten as he takes a deep breath.
"Kayo na ang huhusga kung tama ang desisyon ko noon," he says, shifting to Tagalog for emphasis, his tone heavy.
"Pero bilang pari, naging bahagi ako ng istorya nila Isko."
The parishioners exchange puzzled glances. One elderly woman whispers,
"Anya kadi ti kayat na saw-en? (Anong ibig niyang sabihin?)"
Fr. Crisostomo raises a hand to silence the murmurs. His face is now illuminated by the candlelight, revealing an expression of deep conflict.
"Si Regie, si Isko," he begins, his voice dropping to almost a whisper,
"hindi ko lang siya tinanggap sa simbahan. Ako ang nagtago sa kanya noong panahong kinakailangan niyang magtago."
The crowd is stunned.
"Ngem apay? (Pero bakit?)" one man asks from the back, his Ilocano tone sharp and questioning.
Fr. Crisostomo raises his gaze, meeting their eyes with defiance.
"Dahil alam kong may mas malalim na dahilan ang Diyos kung bakit niya pinili si Regie para sa landas na ito."
He steps closer to the congregation.
"Nakita ko kung paano siya nagdusa, kung paano niya binago ang sarili niya. Hindi ba't lahat tayo nangangailangan ng pagkakataon para magbago? Ang simbahan ang naging tahanan niya, at ako ang naging gabay niya."
A hush falls over the small crowd. Fr. Crisostomo's voice grows more fervent.
"Ngayon, sa wakas, natapos ang kwento niya. Pero hindi ito tungkol lang kay Isko. Ito ay tungkol sa bawat isa sa atin—kung paano tayo tumutugon sa tawag ng pagbabago at kapatawaran."
Fr. Crisostomo turns once more to the image of Apo Lakay, tears streaming down his face. He bows deeply.
"Apo Lakay, siak koma't adda adu a basol. Ngem nakitaak ken nasarakan ko iti nasaysayaat a plano. Agyamanak iti nadungngo a panagbiag ken pammati (Apo Lakay, ako sana na may kasanalan. Pero nakita at natagpuan ko ang mabubuting plano. Nagpapasalamat ako sa pinakamamahal na buhay, at pananampalataya)"
As he kneels, the faint light of the chapel flickers, casting eerie shadows across the walls. For a moment, it seems as though the image of Apo Lakay glances down at him, a quiet smile playing on its carved lips.
The candles dim, and a sudden gust of wind sweeps through the chapel. Fr. Crisostomo's voice falters as he whispers,
"Maysa nga milagro? (Isang Milagro?)"
The congregation gasps as the air becomes still again, a profound peace settling in the room. Fr. Crisostomo stands, his face serene yet filled with awe.
He turns to the people and says,
"Hindi ko alam kung ano ang mangyayari sa ating lahat, pero isa lang ang sigurado: lahat tayo ay may misyon. At ang misyon natin ay magbigay ng liwanag, kahit sa pinakamadilim na bahagi ng buhay."
As he exits the chapel, the scene shifts to the graveyard, where Isko and his newfound family light candles at Regie's grave. Fr. Crisostomo watches from afar, his heart swelling with gratitude and hope.
"Naganak ti tao ket nagbunga da iti adu (Nagsilang ang tao, at nagparami sila) " he murmurs to himself.
"Nasa Diyos ang Awa, Nasa Tao ang Gawa"
With that, the story closes, not with a resolution but with a sense of continuation—because in every ending lies the beginning of another chapter.