(This marks a significant departure from my usual column, which primarily addresses industry matters. I ask for my readers’ understanding and indulgence as I take this opportunity to honor my late beloved wife, Evelyn, on the occasion of her 80th birthday.)
July 22 dawns like any other day, but for me, it arrives heavy with a silence that no amount of time seems to soften. Today, Evelyn would have turned 80. I imagine her waking beside me, perhaps teasing me about the gray that has completely taken over what little hair I have left, or reminding me-gently but firmly-to take my medication. Instead, I wake to an emptiness that has become my unwelcome companion, a hollow space where she used to be.
Evelyn left us on April 10, 2025, just days before we would have celebrated 60 years of marriage. Six decades. A lifetime built choice by choice, prayer by prayer, sacrifice by sacrifice. I had planned something special for our Diamond Anniversary. I wanted to sing for her again, the way I did when we were young and I was still trying to win her heart from among her many admirers. She used to say she chose me because of my voice-that beautiful voice, she called it, though I always thought she was being generous. But Evelyn had a way of seeing beauty in things others overlooked, of finding potential in people who hadn’t discovered it in themselves yet.
I remember that car ride she wrote about on Facebook, when she persuaded me to sing in Ilocano, Bicol, Spanish, Tagalog, English- every language we knew between us. I pretended to be annoyed, told her she was fooling me, making me perform like some courtship days. But she saw through me, as she always did. ‘Matagal nang hindi ka kumanta,’ she said. You haven’t sung for a long time. I just want to hear you sing again. That was Evelyn-always wanting to reconnect us to the people we used to be, to the love that time and responsibility sometimes buried beneath the business of living.
And what a life we built. When I met her at the University of the East, I was the speaker of the student government parliament, and she was a parliamentarian. I thought myself quite important back then, full of political ambition and youthful certainty. But Evelyn had a different kind of strength-quiet, steady, immovable. She was the disciplinarian in our family, the one who could forgive but never forget, who insisted on respectful discussion even when emotions ran hot. She allowed debate, but never disrespect. That was her gift: she taught our children not just to succeed, but to be good.
Four children, nine grandchildren. I say those numbers with wonder even now, because I remember when they were just dreams we whispered about in our small apartment, and we were counting every peso when I was just starting my career. Fortunately, life became much better when I started working for Ambassador Eduardo Cojuangco Jr.
Evelyn’s ‘Ilocana’ thrift-her simple, careful way of living-made our dreams possible. She had that sharp eye for business, that instinct for when to hold and when to invest. She became a licensed realtor, an interior designer, the architect of not just our homes but our financial security. Everything she touched grew: our family, our properties, our peace of mind.
I made her a vow once, and I intend to keep it until I join her: everything she earned, everything she built, will not be wasted. It will grow, as she would have grown it. This is my promise to her memory, my way of speaking to her across the divide that separates us now.
Reading her Facebook post from February, just weeks before she left, I am struck by how completely she felt she had lived her dream. ‘Praise Him that God has been so good to me to be able to live my dream life,’ she wrote. Her dream was not extravagant-her husband in good community standing, children who became professionals, a home with a garden and fruit trees, trips and celebrations, a vacation house by the sea. Simple blessings, richly enjoyed. That was Evelyn: grateful, grounded, gloriously content with the life we built together.
She was proud of our children. How could she not be? Our eldest daughter Anna Maria is now administrator of a legal office in the US, writing pleadings for 28 lawyers. Our second son Jimmy, a captain and check pilot for EVA Air, who went to flying school as a PAL scholar and never stopped rising. Our third son Dante, a doctor of internal medicine in the US, healing others as his mother had always healed us with her care. And our youngest, Patricia Gail, the licensed interior designer who helped run the family business, who learned at her mother’s knee how to make spaces beautiful and lives orderly.
But Evelyn’s greatest achievement wasn’t in the professional credentials or the properties accumulated. It was in the grandchildren-six girls, three boys-raised with the same values, the same faith, the same love that she poured into everything she touched. They are religious, as she hoped they would be. They know right from wrong, as she taught them. Her efforts paid handsome dividends, as the saying goes, though I know she never saw her love as an investment expecting return. She gave because giving was her nature.
I am learning, slowly and painfully, to live alone. It is harder than I imagined, and I imagined it would be very hard indeed. There is no one now to persuade me to sing, no one to design our home with ‘complete beauty and symmetry,’ no one to remind me of the promises we made when Governor Juvenal Guerrero and Emilio Tañedo stood as witnesses to our union. The trials and challenges we weathered together now seem like precious memories, even the difficult ones, because they were ours.
But I find consolation where she would want me to find it-in faith, in family, in the certainty that love does not end with death. I believe she is in heaven. I believe, with the same certainty that I believe in our marriage ‘made in heaven,’ that we will continue together in the afterlife. This is not wishful thinking; it is the logical conclusion of a love that lasted nearly 60 years, that produced four successful children and nine faithful grandchildren, that turned a young parliamentarian and a student government speaker into partners for eternity.
So on this day that would have marked eight decades of her extraordinary life, I honor Evelyn Dacanay Dumaguin Arranza-the woman who selected me from among her suitors, who built our dreams with her thrift and wisdom, who never stopped wanting to hear me sing. I am forever grateful for your unwavering love and dedication, my dear. Your steadfast trust and tireless care for our family has been, and remains, a true blessing.
Thank you for sharing this remarkable journey of loving togetherness with me. I continue it now alone, but not lonely-carrying you in every memory, every promise kept, every song I will sing again when we are reunited.
Happy birthday, Evelyn. I’ll never stop loving you. My love for you outlasts eternity itself.
Here are the special birthday wishes each of our children has for Evelyn:
Happy birthday in heaven, Mama. I miss you every day. I love that when you visit me in my dreams, you are always happy and smiling. I cherish everything you taught me and keep your memory alive every day. I hope you know how much you meant to me and how proud I am that you are my mom.-Ana (married to
Robert Ocampo)
Happy Birthday in Heaven, Mama.
Surely you are in a place of eternal bliss, and happiness.
I miss the fun days when we traveled as a family, the delicious meals that you prepared at home, and the memories of you bringing me along as a child wherever you had a construction project you needed to attend to. Now that I am older, I truly appreciate the important lessons in life that you always shared with us…and I will be forever grateful.
With lots of love and prayers for you, Happy Birthday!-Jim (married to Marie Cañete)
As I think about Mama on her birthday, so many memories come flooding back. As I go through life, many of her words still echo in my heart. Her presence is still felt-a comforting reminder that she is always connected with us, no matter what.
What stands out most is how deeply she believed in me. She always told me I was smart and thoughtful, and those simple words gave me a lifelong confidence. She made me feel loved and encouraged me to become the best version of myself.
Today, I strive to give that same gift to my own children. I want them to know that I love them unconditionally, that I believe in them, and that they are capable of achieving anything they set their hearts and minds to. That is one of the greatest gifts Mama gave me, and it is the legacy I hope to pass on.
Mama knew how much we loved her, and we will always be grateful for her unwavering faith, encouragement, and love. We miss her every day, but her voice, her wisdom, and her example continue to guide us.
Happy Birthday, Mama. Your love lives on in all of us, and your legacy continues to the next generation. -Dante (married to Dr. Liezl Almanzor)
My mother was a true matriarch. While she possessed endless wisdom and a progressive mindset, her core values were beautifully traditional-the perfect combination.
Mama, life feels quieter without you, yet your memory continues to guide our family, especially your apos. You are my greatest teacher, my strongest supporter, and my best friend.
I love you and I miss you always.
Happy Birthday.-With all my love, Dimples (married to Dr. Ronald Samonte, a surgeon).
Dr. Jesus Lim Arranza is the Chairman Emeritus of the Federation of Philippine Industries and concurrent Chairman of the Anti-Smuggling and Anti-Illicit Trade Committee.