Essay: Grandpa taught me to love my skin, believed that I’d be a writer
By Joanne Michelle Coloma
“Don’t you go. Don’t you go to far Zamboanga. Where you may forget your darling. Oh! So far away. Oh! Weep not my dear, Paloma. Oh! Weep not for I’ll return. Oh! Weep not, my little darling. I shall remember and I shall yearn.” (Mabuhay Singers, 1970).
Angeles City - The lyrics of this old song still linger in my mind. It was one of my grandfather’s favorites. He used to ask me to play “Zamboanga,” “Blue Danube” and “Brahm’s Lullaby” on the piano.
While he sang the tune of each song, I tried my best to figure out the notes. Unfortunately, I couldn’t master playing these songs.
Daddy Olds, as everyone called my grandfather, was my father figure since I was a kid. My father left for a job in an electrical company in Jolo, Sulu, and in his absence, Daddy Olds filled the void.
At that time, my mama had to raise me and my younger siblings, who were just 10 and three years old, respectively. Raising all three of us was challenging, but having both of my grandparents helped mama in many ways.
In the absence of my father, I considered Daddy Olds as one of the most priceless people in my life - not because of the material things that he has given me, but because of his wisdom.
He was my best friend and consultant. I literally asked him about anything. His patience to respond to my queries surprised me.
Julio Coloma with his grandchildren. Inset: The writer, Joanne Michelle Coloma.
Daddy Olds called me “Kiangan” which meant “place of origin” in the Ifugao dialect. It was his term of endearment for me. He told me that I was his favorite granddaughter. Maybe I was, because he enrolled me for piano tutorials, which were expensive.
When I was young, I remembered being teased by my cousins because of my dark skin. I am a morena (dark-skinned girl) while many of them are mestizas, thus fair-skinned. I felt sad whenever mama, my sisters, and I had a vacation here in Pampanga. It was agonizing to be teased by my cousins. I tolerated this until I was in fourth grade.
On my fifth grade, I couldn’t bear the teasing any longer, so I stayed behind in our house in Baguio City. This worried Daddy Olds, so he asked me why I didn’t join my mother and sisters in Pampanga. I answered hesitantly, “Daddy, it is because they keep on teasing about my dark skin.”
“Ay! Kasdiay. Kiangan ka talaga. Don’t you know that you are very pretty. Your skin color doesn’t matter.”
After hearing my grandfather’s words, I realized that “beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder.”
That week, I slept in my grandparents’ room, where I joined them in praying the rosary. Daddy Olds taught me that it was important to pray the rosary at least once a day. It has become a habit which is now a part of my identity and faith in God.
Daddy Olds was a known silversmith and goldsmith in Baguio City. He was one of the last generations of trained craftsmen of the Saint Louis Center Silver and Gold Shop which was run and owned by the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
When he had enough silver, he crafted for us a name tag bracelet, a necklace, and a pair of silver earrings. I was so proud of wearing my granddad’s masterpieces, knowing how lovingly he made each of them for days.
His generosity didn’t stop at giving us some jewelry. He had an endless supply of fox’s candies and raisins, which he readily gave us whenever we asked for some of them.
My grandfather also bolstered my confidence as a writer. I started writing simple essays and poetry when I was in the fifth grade. Then, when I was in the seventh grade, I courageously showed him my notebook filled with my essays and poems.
Daddy Olds happily pored over my work. “Wow! Your poems and essays are good. Ayna! Apu! Kiangan. Hahaha! You will be a great writer someday. Keep it up!”
A year later, on May 3, 2001, Daddy Olds died of aortic aneurysm. He was 75. It was one of the most difficult times in our family. At 13, I realized that one day, we will lose someone special in our life for good. This loss is inevitable.
Twenty-five years have passed, here I am trying to live by my grandfather’s words. I believe that he is one of the angels in heaven who intervenes for my cause.
I have decided to dedicate my upcoming book to him because he is one of the reasons why I still wish to finish my book - to share with everyone how he has helped me in accepting myself wholeheartedly.
I will be Julio Coloma’s legacy. #
(About the writer: Joanne Michelle Coloma is a junior high school teacher at the Amsic Integrated School in Angeles City, Pampanga. She is a pioneering cohort of the Masterclass in Writing & Journalism with Dr. Marivir Montebon under the auspices of Awesome Media, Ltd. and Women’s Immigration & Communications Cafe in New York City.)
