December on my mind

Now that All Saints’ Day or “Undas” is over and done with, I turn my thoughts to December, the 12th and last month of the year.

December comes from the Latin word “decem” meaning number 10. Why it is not the 10th but the 12th month in our present calendar is something I do not understand. But whether it is the 10th or the 12th month, I have always considered December a joyful month, my favorite month for as long as I can remember. It is the culmination of the “ber” months, which start on Sept. 1 and signal the countdown to Christmas.

Yes, Christmas is the one big reason why the month of December brings me joy and comfort like a fireplace on a chilly evening. I love the cool and comfortable weather, the multicolored lights and Christmas decorations that one sees everywhere, the Simbang Gabi, the gifts, the caroling, and everything associated with Christmas. Even at my age, I must admit I am still thrilled, like a child, by the excitement of waiting, anticipating something beautiful to happen whether I’ve been good or bad. Somehow, I believe God, who for me is the God of surprises, always appears to present us with something special during Christmas.

And Christmas this year is going to be truly special for me and my family. My only son Nico, our daughter-in-law Cecille, and our two grandchildren Nicole and Emily will be coming home for their first Christmas in the Philippines, after living for so many years in California.

Along with Christmas, however, I also have other reasons that excite me when December comes around. December is my late and dearly beloved mother’s birth month. She was born on Dec. 24, and was aptly named “Paz,” which is the Spanish word for peace, in reference to the coming of the Prince of Peace.

December is also family reunion time, which our family has always held on Christmas Eve, my mother’s birthday, since my early years in San Jose, Nueva Ecija. I remember eagerly looking forward to this occasion when our family would be complete with my two older brothers—one in the seminary in Vigan and another working in Manila—coming home in time for the family noche buena. After I got married and had my own family, Christmas Eve has been reserved for a reunion with wife Thelma’s family (the Alvarezes); Christmas Day is for the Mendiolas (my siblings and their families).

A momentous reason, however, why December is such a special month for me is my wedding.

Almost 36 years ago, on Dec. 23, 1978, I committed myself before God in marriage to Thelma.

The wedding was nontraditional. It was right and proper in form and substance, but without the flair and flourish that most weddings today have. This was largely due to the constraints that the Roman Catholic Church had imposed on the weddings of persons like me.

The two-page document of my papal dispensation from the Office of the Sacred Congregation of Faith in Vatican was all in Latin. But just the same, I understood that part where it said, among many other exhortations, that should I decide to get married in the Church, I must take extra care to go through it “sine quacumque pompa.” That means “without any pomp or lavishness whatsoever,” with only one set of sponsors, and before a highly regarded priest of the Church who must perform a simple and quiet ceremony. It went on to say that the Church did not want my wedding to cause what it calls a public “scandalum” (scandal, a cause to weaken the faith of the Catholic faithful), my unblemished record and good standing in the Catholic Church notwithstanding.

I gladly obeyed the restrictions. I decided against holding the wedding in our regular parish church. Instead, I chose a hotel wedding package, inclusive of a small chapel as venue for the wedding.

The only concession they gave me was to allow three friends—now an archbishop and two other priests close to Thelma and me—to concelebrate the nuptial Mass. I requested to include more priest-friends who wanted to concelebrate. My request was considered “pompa” by Church authorities and was rejected. I did not insist.

The tiny chapel at the penthouse of the old Manila Hilton in Ermita was filled to capacity with some 20 attendees composed of our immediate family members and close friends. There was no bridal car. Instead, Thelma, who checked-in earlier, used the hotel elevator going up to the chapel! She and her parents then made a simple entrance and marched to the altar where I was waiting and that was it! After the wedding ceremony and Mass, we received our guests, who swelled to about a hundred in a small function room also at the hotel, for a simple dinner.

This coming Dec. 23, 2014, in spite of the simplicity and nonconventional character of our wedding, we will complete 36 years of journeying together in joy as well as in pain; in good and happy as well as in hard and sad times. For me, it is proof that a grand wedding is not necessary in order to have a successful marriage. Today, three of our four grown-up children are married, while the youngest is a third-year medicine proper student. We have four beautiful grandchildren who give us unspeakable joy in our waning years.

Christmas, birthdays, reunions and a wedding anniversary—for all of these, no matter whether it is the 10th or the 12th month of the year, I thank God for December!

Danilo G. Mendiola, 72, is a retired human resources and administrative manager. He now does volunteer work as a pastoral counselor in a parish in Quezon City.