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This couple taking an early walk, in the still deserted early morning Venice, reminded me of my parents.
Theirs was a time when people meant what they promised unto each other -- when they took their vows " 'Til death do us part." When words spoken were as good as law. A far cry from the world we live in today.
The words " 'Til death do us part." can be an albatross or even a chain in marriage, when love ceased between a couple -- especially in coutries where Catholicism is dominant and does not allow an escape clause, like divorce. In countries where divorce is allowed, the children (if any) become victims in such estrangements.
It makes you wonder whether many people really did "mean what they say, and say what they mean" when they came before witnesses, to exchange their vows. Or, was it mere lust and physical attraction, mistaken as love?
In the case of my parents, they were a testament of what it meant truly when the words " 'Til death do us part." were exchanged. It was rare to hear the words "I love you!" uttered by either my Father or Mother. But, even as a young boy, you can feel that love was there. They were both headstrong, being the eldest from their respective families. Thus, while they never seek arguments with people in the community, they were not the type who would cower when they felt they were wronged. This was especially true of my Mother, especially if her brood was threatened.
And yet, between the two of them, there seemed to be an understanding. When my Father reached his boiling point, usually from what us the children did, my Mother never countered or took sides. The same was true when it was the other way around. Never once had I heard either of them have words of anger to each other, or words that could stab the heart -- especially in public. This was unique and known in our community, where it was common to be awakened at night sometimes overhearing the loud arguments between couples in our neighborhood.
We were very poor when I was young, but I have never heard my Mother once utter words of resentment that my Father could not provide for his family. With the sporadic wage of a carpenter, and later as a shop teacher, it was a challenge to provide for a family of 9 children. In her own ways, she did all sorts of things to augment my Father's income. Later on, her decision to take over the sari-sari store -- started by two of my sisters but was about to go under -- turned the tide for our family.
When I was in high school and some of my sisters were about to get married, my parents had a simple advice for the new couple -- respect each other and never go to sleep with one harboring a hurt feeling. They even have practical advice on when to resume physical intimacy after a pregnancy, so as not to hurt the woman. [As a testament to this, I realized later that indeed we were "equally spaced" -- almost two years (give or take a few months or so) apart of each other.
Our sari-sari store prospered a bit by the time I was in high school. In the new public market, my parents got a location that allowed the construction of a mezzanine -- it served both as a storage room for goods as well as sleeping quarters. Our store was open before dawn until past midnight sometimes (whenever the last customer left). Since then, my parents practically lived in the store and went home separately during the day to take care of family matters.
My brother took me with him, after I finished the elementary to study in Manila. When I went home on vacation, sometimes I slept with my parents, in our store. It was during one of these sleepovers in our store that I learned the secret of my parents, by accident. [How come they never quarreled, at least in front of us the children or in public? It was not because my parents were perfect, far from it. There were times for example when my Father loses his temper on us, his children. Never once did my Mother fuel his anger by enterring the fray, herself.]
I was awakened one night, as it happened sometimes, and during one of this waking up incidents, I overheard my parents whispering. Curious that I have always been, I tried to feign that I was indeed still asleep. My Father must have noticed at some point that I was not, and they both stopped. My Father shown a flashlight near my face, and luckily I did not react.
It was a long time before they resumed -- they were talking about the events of the day, about us. They spent a lot of time talking about my Brother who by then had his own life in Manila, and came home only twice a year since he went to college and soon just once a year when he started working. My Brother when he started working always had gifts for the family -- nothing so expensive but they always meant a lot to our family. Long after a gift my have past its "lifetime", my parents still kept them. For some reason that night, they were discussing about a "record" that my Brother bought two years before -- that was before he took me with him to Manila. They were trying to understand the words of the song, and whether my Brother was trying to convey something in that song. They then went on planning about our future, about more practical things on what goods to buy, and so on. How long their whispered conversation continued I never knew because eventually I was lulled to sleep, by their whispers.
My Mother clearly was in charge of the store, from the beginning. My Father worked fulltime, as a shopteacher, until he retired. So, he helped mostly after school hours and during weekends. He took charge also with the purchasing of merchandise.
Many years after my Mother died, I found what turned out to be my Father's love letters; hidden in the bottom of our family chest, together with the few family treasures kept by my Mother. The letters were rolled together and tied gingerly with what once was a white embroidered Swiss ribbon.