A Father’s Legacy

BERNIE CUEVAS

A friend shared this with me in my messenger sometime in April this year from the FB account of Paracale Memories. Entitled “Paracale-Our Legends and Language#4,” – it was the fourth in a series honoring what he calls the VIPs of Paracale, a historic town in Camarines Norte By Ben V. Condino of Paracale High School 49′ and I quote:

“Sa Helera Ng VIP’s na sa atin ay Famoso, Outstanding Ang Doktor natin na si Bernardo Formoso; Kung Ikaw ang pasyente n’ya, palagi kang Asikaso, Kahit sakit mo ay Anthrax,   Kulebra man o Trangkaso; Meron din siyang Karag-karag Kulay-Rosas itong Limo, Gamit man sa Kasal o Binyag, sa Bayan man o sa Baryo!”  (Translation in English: One of our famous VIPs is an outstanding doctor. His name is Bernardo Formoso. If you are his patient, you will surely be given attention regardless of your sickness, whether Anthraz, dysentery, or flu. He owned a pink car, a “limo,” that he used to service weddings or baptisms in the town proper or the barrios.

This brought fond memories of my childhood, and my father’s legacy flashed vividly. Dr. Bernardo Formoso was my father. He was a “physician-surgeon,” and indeed, that was how he was known in our town, the surrounding towns, and barrios. A graduate of UST, he did his residency in surgery at the Marsman Hospital, owned by the huge mining company Marsman. However, when a catastrophic accident buried more than 30 miners in an underground tunnel collapse, the mining company closed down, and the primary source of livelihood of the town was brought down with it. The once bustling mining town became almost a ghost town.

My father could have pursued his career in a big city or town but stayed to serve the people. He put up a small hospital complete with an operating room, sterilizer, a simple X-ray machine, wards, an outpatient clinic, and even a simple laboratory. Together with my mother, a nurse, and a trained anesthetist, they worked to serve the poor people in Paracale.

We had relatives from Antique whom my parents sent to school to become midwives, and they also helped take care of patients in the hospital. We lived on the second floor of the hospital. Now that I think of it, the closed hospital must have been the source of all the equipment that allowed them to operate that hospital.

I grew up with a service dedicated 24/7 on-call father. Patients were town mates and mostly poor people from the barrios and islands who could not afford to go to the big hospitals.

My father never turned anyone away any time of the day or night. Many times he was paid in goods. Chicken, vegetables, fruits, fish, etc. He built a small kitchen for the patients to cook their meals. He never tired of helping people, even if he did not earn much. He would even shell out cash if a patient needed help to be able to go home. The people loved him, and everyone knew him. I remember that he would take me during his house calls to patients.

Being a ghost town, there were years of my childhood when our village did not have electricity or running water. My father, ever resourceful and creative, put up water drums and ensured we caught the rainwater from the roof! He had a lot of Petromax fueled by gas, so he could see patients and even perform emergency deliveries at night. 

I would say my father was the original doctor of the barrios. He was practically the only doctor there and could not bear to leave the people behind. Despite the simple life we led and the many challenges we faced, he did not seriously contemplate leaving our small town.

My father taught me simple joys. From our house, we could walk to the sea, and early on, he taught me how to swim by dragging me along while playing in the water. Soon I could float, then he taught me the different strokes. He was very jolly and would think of ways to make people happy, especially on Christmas. We would attend Christmas Eve masses together. While at mass, my father would sneak out for a while, go home, put all the gifts under the Christmas tree, and return. When we got home, he would say Santa passed by to leave the presents behind for all of us, including the helpers, and then we would excitedly sing Christmas carols as he played the piano, open the gifts, then eat the Noche Buena meal that my mother prepared. Those were my best childhood memories.

My father was also a very respected member of the town and had a close connection to his roots in Vigan, Ilocos Sur. One historic and memorable childhood experience was when then-Philippine President Carlos P. Garcia came to our town and was hosted in our home. I was too young to remember the circumstances, but we had photos to help me to remember that moment.    

My father was multi-talented and not shy. I remember holy week passion plays where my father played Pontius Pilate. He was the favorite “makata” (poet) who would recite his personally composed poems to the town’s fiesta queens. He would think of fun games and contests during fiestas, such as hitting the pot, the slowest bicycle race, boxing, etc., where he provided the prizes. 

We owned the only car in the town. For the people, it was like a “pink limo.” He would generously allow the car to be used as the bridal car for almost all weddings of people he knew. Of course, they would get him as “Ninong” (sponsor), and I would often be the flower girl. He was always generous and would willingly share what he had.

Despite the small income of the hospital, he ensured we all had a good education. We all started elementary school in the public school in the town. But when we got to High School, he sent us to private Catholic schools. They sacrificed being away from us, and we had to sacrifice being away from them because it was their dream to give us the best they could provide. I would see them only on Christmas and summer breaks. But on those occasions, he would make sure my mother served all our favorite food, we would have fun picnics by the sea, and at night we would play family mahjong for fun.

My sister became a doctor of medicine like my father, my brother a successful career person, and I became a nurse and am now a missionary.