Last Wednesday my nephews Joshua Asbucan Banoey, 8, and his brother Evan James, 7, were laid to rest in their grandparents’ backyard.
Based on what we were able to piece together, Joshua and EJ went to take a bath at a pond where excess water from the rice fields spill over sometime before noon last Sunday. What remains unclear to us is how both brothers got themselves into a portion of the pond that is a little too deep for them. The pond is some distance from the nearest houses so that about 30 minutes had passed before somebody passed by and learned that the brothers had drowned. Their bodies were already stiff and bloated when they were recovered. They were embracing each other.
Joshua and EJ are children of my cousin Eleonor, a public school teacher, and Johnny, an army sergeant. Leonor requested to be transferred to the Rizal National School of Arts and Trade to be together with all her children. When Leonor gave birth to Joshua, she was pursuing here master’s degree on values education in a prestigious Manila university, thanks to a scholarship grant she had been very fortunate to avail of. Joshua grew up in the care of his grandparents, Uncle Benjamin and Auntie Linda Asbucan. Since Leonor had been assigned to Amdalao, Pasil all those years before her transfer to RNSAT, Joshua practically grew up as the “last child” of Uncle Benjie and Auntie Linda.
As we were laying Joshua and EJ to the ground, I could almost hear my heart breaking as Uncle Benjie sang his thanks to the Lord in tears. Just three years ago, Uncle Benjie lost a son, a victim of a fatal love triangle.
We don’t know what really happened yet. But the family has embraced one theory based on the state of the corpses and the signs of struggle on the scene of the tragedy. It was easy to see that Joshua had drowned longer. We all agreed that he may have drowned trying to get EJ out of the water. Leonor herself claims that her eldest is very protective of his ading and would be sure to fetch EJ from school on his way home. As for EJ, he might have refused to leave his brother instead of trying to save himself.
Few deaths could actually touch the depths of my soul, but the death of the very young stirs up raw emotions that overwhelm my being. It also makes me brood over the meaning of life. Joshua and EJ’s tragedy brought back to mind the many times I could have drowned, having taken in water through my nose, but somehow managed to swim my way out of danger by sheer force of will. There were also those few times I lost my footing catching coins on top of the big rock at Mines View. There was also that summer in 1983 when the Buliyat family took my younger brother Gerald and me to a picnic by the Asin River. As the rest were enjoying their lunch, Gerald and I stayed on the water. Somehow Gerald got carried away to where the water got too deep for him (he was no swimmer) and he was taking in water as he struggled to stay afloat while he calling me for rescue. Instinctively, I swam after him and managed to grab him as he was about to go under. However, the current was too strong for my eight-year old body and we only got carried further downstream. Fortunately somebody spotted us – I cannot remember who but I can remember a scream – and the men immediately scrambled for us. Judge Francis Buliyat must have reset the sprint record that day as he quickly bounded down the stony path towards us and we were soon safely out of the water.
I am quite sure that Gerald and I could have easily shared a similar fate with Joshua and EJ if we didn’t have people who cared enough to watch over us. The irony of that rescue was that when I got home, I found the taste of the cough syrup I was taking in at the time too hard to resist and I drank more than I was supposed to. I ended up in a hospital that same night for a near fatal overdose.
Life remains a complete mystery to me. I had courted danger several times and had managed to cheat death each time by, I suppose, plain luck. Others were far worse at it than I was but have stayed around like the proverbial weeds in the garden. My nephews could have used a slice of that luck but it was not meant to be.
It must be very hard to lose boys like them. EJ, especially, has a very sweet disposition and an easy smile and that will be how I will forever remember him. My wife, Maria Christina, could not sleep for three straight nights upon receiving news of the children’s death. The tragedy had shaken her peace of mind so she kept going back to those moments we got Joshua and EJ to come over to our house for some celebration.
The teen-aged nephew of my co-teacher, Ms. Suzette Arboleda, was killed as a drunken man slammed his vehicle at the boy who was helping push a stalled vehicle on the other side of the highway.
Before that, provincial assessor Jeffrey Uyam was trying to overtake another vehicle when he crashed into a motorcycle bearing a couple moving from the opposite direction. The couple died while Manong Jeff was fine but only in the physical sense: his lady victim happens to be his immediate neighbor.
A Tabuk policeman who jumped off a jeepney that had mechanical trouble on an uphill road in Tanudan ended up an "accidental hero" as he got caught under the jeepney, which was loaded with women and children, preventing it from plummeting down a ravine -- at the cost of his life.
Two of my co-workers lost their fathers to infirmities while the husband of Mrs. Pacita Litorco, our Makabayan department head, died of choking. Sometime during the evening of Oct. 18, Lakay Angnganay passed on to the other side after more than 90 years on earth.
My condolences to: Leonor and Johnny and their respective families, the Pugao family (he did his duty to the end -- to serve and protect), the Tabbang family, the Litorco family, the Arboleda family, the Sarol-Arobel family, Manong Doming Oclarino, and the Angnganay clan of Lubo.
Based on what we were able to piece together, Joshua and EJ went to take a bath at a pond where excess water from the rice fields spill over sometime before noon last Sunday. What remains unclear to us is how both brothers got themselves into a portion of the pond that is a little too deep for them. The pond is some distance from the nearest houses so that about 30 minutes had passed before somebody passed by and learned that the brothers had drowned. Their bodies were already stiff and bloated when they were recovered. They were embracing each other.
Joshua and EJ are children of my cousin Eleonor, a public school teacher, and Johnny, an army sergeant. Leonor requested to be transferred to the Rizal National School of Arts and Trade to be together with all her children. When Leonor gave birth to Joshua, she was pursuing here master’s degree on values education in a prestigious Manila university, thanks to a scholarship grant she had been very fortunate to avail of. Joshua grew up in the care of his grandparents, Uncle Benjamin and Auntie Linda Asbucan. Since Leonor had been assigned to Amdalao, Pasil all those years before her transfer to RNSAT, Joshua practically grew up as the “last child” of Uncle Benjie and Auntie Linda.
As we were laying Joshua and EJ to the ground, I could almost hear my heart breaking as Uncle Benjie sang his thanks to the Lord in tears. Just three years ago, Uncle Benjie lost a son, a victim of a fatal love triangle.
We don’t know what really happened yet. But the family has embraced one theory based on the state of the corpses and the signs of struggle on the scene of the tragedy. It was easy to see that Joshua had drowned longer. We all agreed that he may have drowned trying to get EJ out of the water. Leonor herself claims that her eldest is very protective of his ading and would be sure to fetch EJ from school on his way home. As for EJ, he might have refused to leave his brother instead of trying to save himself.
Few deaths could actually touch the depths of my soul, but the death of the very young stirs up raw emotions that overwhelm my being. It also makes me brood over the meaning of life. Joshua and EJ’s tragedy brought back to mind the many times I could have drowned, having taken in water through my nose, but somehow managed to swim my way out of danger by sheer force of will. There were also those few times I lost my footing catching coins on top of the big rock at Mines View. There was also that summer in 1983 when the Buliyat family took my younger brother Gerald and me to a picnic by the Asin River. As the rest were enjoying their lunch, Gerald and I stayed on the water. Somehow Gerald got carried away to where the water got too deep for him (he was no swimmer) and he was taking in water as he struggled to stay afloat while he calling me for rescue. Instinctively, I swam after him and managed to grab him as he was about to go under. However, the current was too strong for my eight-year old body and we only got carried further downstream. Fortunately somebody spotted us – I cannot remember who but I can remember a scream – and the men immediately scrambled for us. Judge Francis Buliyat must have reset the sprint record that day as he quickly bounded down the stony path towards us and we were soon safely out of the water.
I am quite sure that Gerald and I could have easily shared a similar fate with Joshua and EJ if we didn’t have people who cared enough to watch over us. The irony of that rescue was that when I got home, I found the taste of the cough syrup I was taking in at the time too hard to resist and I drank more than I was supposed to. I ended up in a hospital that same night for a near fatal overdose.
Life remains a complete mystery to me. I had courted danger several times and had managed to cheat death each time by, I suppose, plain luck. Others were far worse at it than I was but have stayed around like the proverbial weeds in the garden. My nephews could have used a slice of that luck but it was not meant to be.
It must be very hard to lose boys like them. EJ, especially, has a very sweet disposition and an easy smile and that will be how I will forever remember him. My wife, Maria Christina, could not sleep for three straight nights upon receiving news of the children’s death. The tragedy had shaken her peace of mind so she kept going back to those moments we got Joshua and EJ to come over to our house for some celebration.
***
The boys' death capped a week filled with death by accidents and natural causes.The teen-aged nephew of my co-teacher, Ms. Suzette Arboleda, was killed as a drunken man slammed his vehicle at the boy who was helping push a stalled vehicle on the other side of the highway.
Before that, provincial assessor Jeffrey Uyam was trying to overtake another vehicle when he crashed into a motorcycle bearing a couple moving from the opposite direction. The couple died while Manong Jeff was fine but only in the physical sense: his lady victim happens to be his immediate neighbor.
A Tabuk policeman who jumped off a jeepney that had mechanical trouble on an uphill road in Tanudan ended up an "accidental hero" as he got caught under the jeepney, which was loaded with women and children, preventing it from plummeting down a ravine -- at the cost of his life.
Two of my co-workers lost their fathers to infirmities while the husband of Mrs. Pacita Litorco, our Makabayan department head, died of choking. Sometime during the evening of Oct. 18, Lakay Angnganay passed on to the other side after more than 90 years on earth.
My condolences to: Leonor and Johnny and their respective families, the Pugao family (he did his duty to the end -- to serve and protect), the Tabbang family, the Litorco family, the Arboleda family, the Sarol-Arobel family, Manong Doming Oclarino, and the Angnganay clan of Lubo.
***
Happy birthday to EJ (Oct. 17, the day of his burial), my sister Golda Mira (Oct. 18), my beloved son Nathan (Oct. 19) and my niece Queenie (Oct. 20). Except for EJ, may you have, indeed, many more birthdays to come.**Bani AsbucanBlogged with Flock