A Grace of Two Women

A GRACE OF TWO WOMEN
By Rolo B. Cena

Dumaguete Metro Post

14 May 2006

I have two women in my life. Call me a concubine, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Not even the divine creator who could slap me on my face for immoral action neither the weaker law of men that can send me to jail.

She comes from the western part of the island, and she loves me, I knew that. Oftentimes, she would remind me of my health saying health is the most precious resource I could ever have when all else fails. She dictates, but I love her.

And she comes from the east. She loves me, of course. She gives me her best and gives me heaven made on earth. She does remind me of my health more than the westerner does. She watches my diet, reminds me of my health pills, and reminds me of my meals. She reminds me of my appointments and my speaking engagements. She reminds me of God. Wonderful!

She nagged me before, I mean this westerner. She does not encourage me to win; she hates to attend recognition seeing myself receiving plaques or medals. She does not push. To her, there is more to life than medals and honors. She believes after all, fame, just like a glitter of stone, costs a lot.

Once in my life she nagged me, too. She stops nagging me now, for one good reason we both know. She encourages me to win; she likes to attend recognition. She likes to see me receiving plaques or medals. She pushes; but she could patiently wait. This eastern lady endures with me for better or for worse. She loves me more than the westerner does. She swears eternal company, the one with no buts and ifs. She reminds: “Do what you believe is right.” And I love her, too.

The western lady? I seldom see her now, but she’s still there with open arms. She still waits, she watches. She still reminds me of this: “Think. You’re not getting any younger.”

Yes, they are my women. It’s hard to choose. As the old adage goes, “A man is born for a woman.” But not in my case, it’s absolutely different. I cannot live without them both. I really can’t. I mean, I don’t want to choose one from the other. I bet you would agree with me now.

The westerner is my mother, and the easterner is my wife. These two women are doing great things for me, for my family, and for my life. Each one changes me very differently. My mother sings an old song, while my wife sings a new one for me. That’s terrific!

My mother gave me life. It’s a debt no life can repay and something I just can’t drop off in favor of the other. What my mother had done to me is something I can never forget. It’s written in the pages of my book. There’s more of her than a mother. She’s great!

My wife gives me new life. She’s my twenty-four-by-seven guardian angel and co-worker. She risks and gambles with me. She’s my most loyal friend and trusted confidante. She makes me feel complete; she gives me blissful happiness. She’s more than just a woman and a wife to me.

It’s a grace of two women coming in one simple yet amazing package. Not everyone has this kind of grace – wrapped in natural fabric of human kindness, and laced with the glossy values of a meaningful, principle-centered life.