Ghost Valentines

Dear Classmates,

If you are afraid of ghosts, then stop reading now. But if you believe in Valentine’s Day, then read on. This is both a Valentine and a ghost story. Now many of you will think I’ve gone wacko, although many of you who know me well will remember that I’ve always been like this. My 41-yr old self doesn’t care much anymore what anyone thinks of me. For now, I just need you to listen.

Last weekend, New York City, my home, was buried in record snowfall of almost 27 inches. Homebound, I decided to dig into my box of old pictures. I found this beautiful one, of my lola and her good friends, her Assumption classmates. I realized that they graduated high school from Assumption in 1936, exactly 70 years ago this year.

Yesterday, I got an email from Bing Ongsiako inviting us all to meet the Ruby and Diamond Jubilarians who will share Old Girl’s Day with us. At the same time, I got an email from Bing’s sister Jeannie, inviting me to view her blog, where her lead article was on dreams. So I wrote Bing about the photo I found, suggesting that if any of these women were still alive, they must be invited to the velada. At the very least, maybe this beautiful picture could be published in our program. Then I read Jeannie's blog, and wondered what I would dream about tonight.

So off to bed I went, ready to get a good night’s sleep. That’s what I thought. Instead, I spent the next hour or so crying my eyes out, at the same time, remembering in exacting detail, every little bit about Herran. Jeannie, was I dreaming? Was I channeling? Or did I just drink too much Diet Pepsi before I went to bed?

All I know, is that now I remember it all. So I got up from bed and typed it up. It is now almost 2:00 a.m. Thus, you see how the post below this one was born.

Then, my rational almost 42-year old mind took over and asked myself: Why are you still weeping for a place that is over thirty years long gone, a continent and an ocean away from where you now live? Why and how, does your present day mind, remember in immense detail, a place that your 9-year old brain and body left behind? In fact, it would be a 7-year old brain and body that remembers all the ”insider” places that I only saw on account of Lola, who died when I was 7.

Rational self to Monica: half your friends didn't even go to Herran or stay there long enough. Why are you doing this???

So, did the ghosts from the photo put the map in my head tonight? Or did my 9-year old brain tuck it away deep, so it could be retrieved 32 years later, so I could type it and make you all remember again?

I thought that my typing out the article would make me go to sleep. And I tried, I lay down again. Big NO. The women in the picture did not think so. They were not done with me yet for the night.

Here is what they want: they want to be remembered. They do not want you to forget. Batch 1981, I am not really speaking to just you anymore, I am speaking to every Assumption girl out there, especially the ones who came before us, who may actually have known these women. They want to be remembered, this Assumption High School Class of 1936: From left to right, Front row: Pilaring Aldanese, Mary Whitaker Ansaldo, unknown for now, unknown for now, Conchita Zaldarriaga Arnaiz (Gina Tambunting’s lola). Back row: Aurea Natividad Salcedo, Carmen Bayot Garcia, Bibiana Diaz Guysayko (my lola), Remedios Corpuz Moya. I believe that Mrs. Garcia, and Mrs. Arnaiz are still living, there might be more. Not in the picture but one of their gang, was my grandmother’s best friend, Angela Pena (HS 1934 or 1935), for whom I named my Angelica for. She came to visit me tonight as well.



So please, Manila classmates, I do not need to be Sleepless in New York anymore. Allow the ghosts to be at peace too. Please include them on Old Girls Day, and especially seek out the ones who are still living. They must be invited, they must be remembered.

Be careful of what pictures you dig up on snowy days too close to the day for love, lost or otherwise. Happy Valentine’s Day to you all. It is now almost 4:00 a.m.

There, maybe now they will let me get some sleep.

Lola Babing y amigas, permítanme dormir, por favor.

Abrazos y besos,
Monica