Posted by Vicente Lim IV on July 30, 2012:

I delivered this during the last day of my grandfather's wake: ---- Good evening everyone. My name is Vicente Lim IV. I said this before during my Lola Nitang's funeral mass, and I will proudly say it again. I am the favorite grandson of Lolo Ting and I am sure of it! Well, I am after all, his only grandson... When I was still in school, Lolo always made it a point to attend all of my awarding ceremonies and go up the stage with me. For this, I was unique, because I would usually be the only one with a grandfather, instead of a mom or a dad with me (I'm sure Mom and Dad didn't mind stepping out of the spotlight to give way to Lolo). For this, I would often get the question, "is he the one on the 1,000-peso bill?" All these years, I have always thought of it as such a silly question by people who either have no idea about their history, or are just too lazy to think! Looking back though, maybe people easily mistook him for Vicente 1 because Vicente 2 had an aura of greatness about him as well. Sure, he didn't make General like Lolo Vicente did, nor will he go down in history as a great war hero like Lolo Vicente. After all, there was never a chance for these things to play out anyway, because of a medical condition he contracted shortly after graduation from the US Military Academy. Besides, according to him, he was a better shot than his dad ever was at West Point. Vicente Sr. was indeed a great man, and cast a long shadow on all of us who carry his name. But Vicente Jr. was a great man in his own right. With no war to be a hero in, the circumstances allowed him to be discreet in doing what he did, and that's the way my Lolo Ting liked it. He was never a credit-taker, and was never one to toot his own horn. Like many in his generation, he was content with just doing the right things, the right way. It was sincerity at its finest. Whether it was as an executive of Del Monte, a consultant for the Department of Agriculture, or the Chairman of La Salle -- Araneta, that's how Lolo was always. Nowadays, that brand of kindness and sincerity is easily overlooked and often taken for granted. I should know, because I took after my Lolo that way. But for Lolo, he didn't care if he was recognized for it or not. He just knew that the best thing you could do for people is to give them something they would be able to take with them for the rest of their lives. As a testament to that, many people we never even knew about have come out from nowhere expressing their gratitude for what Lolo had done for them. Quiet and low-key as he might have been in doing good deeds, Lolo was boisterous, fun loving and had a wicked sense of humor. Who could forget his signature wit? If he liked you, he would have called you an "idiot" at some point. If he didn't like you, he knew how to send you to hell, making sure you enjoyed the ride before you could figure out what hit you. Or, he would have simply said, "this guy must be from Ateneo!" But behind the dry humor, the hard-hitting jokes that drove even my grandmother mad, and what seemed to be a lot of nonsense, anyone keen enough to see it would know that there was some method to all the madness and an underlying lesson in everything. For one, Lolo never failed to keep me on my toes. There was a constant threat that he would ask me to solve some problem out of the blue. Once, during a round of golf, he called me up and asked me, "the buko in Silang costs P6.50 and the buko in Manila costs P13.00. How many bukos will I have to buy in Silang so that it will be cheaper to do so?" When I told him he would need at least 40 to break-even, he said in typical Lolo fashion, "idiot! How did you figure that out?!?" And with that, I knew he was pleased. He really loved to ask questions that would make you think, and he often used these as a delaying tactic every time we would stand from the table to say we were going home. With some of his tough questions, I also found that my Lolo was a man ahead of his time. He would always call me up, often asking me if he could make the computer do something that only today's most advanced computers could do! No one was safe from these "shocking" questions, I guess. For my Mom, before she married Dad, it was, "from which Del Rosarios are you? The politicians, the crooks, or the nobodys??" For the poor La Sallites on the elevator with us, it was, "so which of you characters are from Binondo?? You all must have one-syllable surnames!" Keeping me on my toes wasn't limited to just the math problems or the computer riddles. I had to be ready at any time to give a speech, whether or not I had something prepared. In one instance, after asking me to miss class to attend a ceremony at Camp Vicente Lim, he surprised me by ending his speech with, "now here's Vicente Lim 4 to say a few words in either English or straight Tagalog! Let's see if he can do a better job." I chose to do it in pure Filipino. And for all those times, I have become fearless when standing in front of a crowd. But I have to admit, Lolo, this is the toughest speech you've ever had me make. Perhaps all that was an offshoot of all the questioning he received as a plebe in PMA and at West Point. I'm sure all of you here who went through the Academies can relate. But beyond the constant drills, he was a caring Lolo, even if he was too "macho" to admit it. When I had a major bicycle accident in 1998, he arrived at the clinic as my bleeding head was being stitched-up. With his booming voice, he cried out, "hey Vinch! Now we know that you have a hard head!" All three of us Vicentes started laughing, much to the consternation of my weeping mother. I'm sure my two cousins have their own similar stories of Lolo's brand of "carino brutal." He cared for us "apos", but Lolo also cared about my friends. He would always ask me how they were and what they were doing. "Vincci, how is your Chinese friend? Do they still have that hardware store under their house? We better go visit him!" or "How are the two brothers, the ones whose mom brings us cheddar cheese from Canada?" Lolo Ting was my buddy, my coach, and my teacher for everything one would not learn in a normal classroom. ...when I was with La Salle's golf team, he would come to every practice, screaming "idiot!" with every shot. After every game, he would ask me, "how many putts?" ...he taught me about the Morse Code, which made me popular among my classmates when I figured out that the old, long Nokia ringtone was actually Morse Code for "Connecting People" ...during the time when he would bring me to school on Tuesdays, he taught me what a backhoe was, and how it helped build the Skyway. He even made me draw it. ...he taught me what a rain gauge was for, so I would know what the weatherman meant when he'd say, "we're expecting about 2 inches of rain". ...he showed me the magic of Velcro, and the utility of orange tape! ...he taught me how to wind a watch, and how to work all of his grandfather clocks. ...he taught me the difference between Cognac and brandy, and of course how to open those wine bottles with the most complicated wine bottle openers, so that we could start drinking! ...he introduced me to American football, and next to golf, it has been my passion ever since. ...he made me watch the movie, "The Longest Day" countless times, and I learned to love watching war movies because of it. ...he introduced me to Ebenezer Scrooge, and to this day, I can recite the whole cassette from memory. ...he taught me how to read and appreciate a map, and I carry one with me everyday. ...he taught me the usefulness of a Swiss knife. I also carry one everyday and everywhere. ...he gave us "apos" unique gifts, that no ordinary apo would probably get from their Lolo. ...from Lolo I learned that a good photograph is not about having the most expensive camera, knowing how to use all the settings, or editing it like hell on Photoshop. It is about a photographer seeing a good picture and just taking the damn shot! What we had was really something special and I knew not all people were as lucky to have something like that, which was why I was glad to "share" him with my friends. For countless classmates and officemates, they knew him vicariously, with all my stories about him. "He's gonna come busting through our office door one of these days looking for me! Be ready!" I miss you, Lolo, and I will miss you every day. I will miss our verbal "jousts", and the way you always try to figure out which Vicente I am. "Vicente 2, 3, 4 whoever you are!" I will miss the times when you would watch movies with us. I will miss our weekday dinners together, your repetitive questions and preparing the most creative answers I can come up with. I will miss all the funny moments, your stage whispers about the dirty mayors, and about how everyone was getting "a big gut" or "a big ass". I will miss your loud sneeze and your mischievous laugh. I will miss walking beside you, Lolo, and escorting you as you troop the line, or as we walk through the quiet halls with the names of missing soldiers. When I saw you lying on that hospital bed, Lolo, I knew that you would never come busting through our office door anymore, and instead I would have to do it to you in your hospital room. On your last night, I promised to bring back my girlfriend, whom you never failed to call pretty or well-dressed. You were asleep the next day, but I want you to know that I carried out that promise. There are many others I will have to carry out for you, Lolo, but I will do it because I love you. I promise to carry on, not only the legacy of Lolo Vicente, but also your legacy, because you certainly left your own. Our name will never die, because I have Lolo Vicente, you and my Dad with me. I will earn every letter of that name everyday, Lolo. So don't worry, we're letting you go now. Enjoy your time with God, with Lola and everybody else up there with you in Heaven. ----

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