Yes, that’s baby Trixie with Lolo Tor.

Atty. Redentor Salonga, or Lolo Tor to us his grandchildren (or grandnieces and grandnephews), was larger than life. Not only is he a giant of a man at over six feet tall, he also has a booming voice, and more than anything, you can’t have an encounter with him, much less grow up with him around, without him having an effect on your life. He sure shaped mine. Lolo Tor seemed invincible, and with him, I felt I could be, too.

The eldest apo

Lolo Tor is my mom’s uncle, my lola’s younger brother, but who stood as the head of our clan. My brothers and I, being the first grandchildren in the family, grew up with Lolo Tor. As the eldest apo, I grew up being told and always believing that I’m a Lolo’s Girl: Lolo Tor and members of the family always said so, and I owned it. He would tell me over and over how, when I was a baby and had convulsions, he practically forgot to wear pants in his rush to take me to the hospital. That was always followed (or preceded) by “Love ko ‘yan e.” We always felt loved by Lolo Tor, through his words and most especially his deeds.

Our very own Santa Claus

My childhood was defined by almost weekly trips to my lolo’s and my mom’s hometown, Guagua, Pampanga, trying delicious fruits for the first time (as far as I can remember, my lolo introduced us to everything from cherries and strawberries to pears, seedless grapes, different colors and sizes of apples, star apple, kamatsile, macopa, jackfruit–my favorite–and everything else in between). He loved fruits, and I inherited that from him. Actually, he loved to eat, and it was also through the many feasts he hosted in Guagua or our old home in Sta. Cruz, Manila, especially during Christmas, that I was introduced to delicious treats like lechon de leche, Marca Piña queso de bola, and Excelente ham—treats we enjoyed way before Noche Buena.

Yes, uso lagyan ng thought bubble stickers ang photos dati, haha. Here’s Lolo Tor and I with his dog, Boogie.

And speaking of Christmas, that’s always a special holiday I associated with Lolo Tor as a kid. Not only did he look like a Filipino Santa, complete with big belly, but sans the white beard, this was also when he would really spoil us with treats, and then drive the family to Guagua the next day where we’d enjoy more treats. I don’t know how we all fit in his red car back then. Lolo Tor was born on December 24, so Christmas always felt like a double celebration.

Lolo always had pasalubong for us. A lot of my first accessories that included pretty pearls and beaded necklaces were from him. One day, he brought home K-rations, those packs of food given to the US Army, who had a base in Clark, Pampanga. Each bag contained different things, from microwavable dishes to powdered juice, candy, gum, etc. They were among the highlights of our childhood! On one trip to Guagua, Lolo pretended he missed our turn on the highway and we went straight down NLEX. It turns out, he wanted to surprise us with a trip to nearby Dau, to buy more K-rations and candies—I was such a candy monster when I was a kid. That’s one of my happiest childhood memories.

The great entertainer

Lolo Tor also encouraged and supported our love for various arts, along with my Lola. They made me take piano lessons and even bought me a piano, which they asked me to play when there were family gatherings. Besides playing the piano, they encouraged us to sing and dance. Lolo Tor’s a great singer himself, but what I will never forget is when he taught me and my brothers a really ridiculous but fun dance to go with a rhyme I’m not sure if he made up or which was really some old rhyme about someone from their town, “Banchopis,” which he made us perform every chance he got.

Everyone has a nickname coined by Lolo Tor. Mine is Tar-Tar (for Tar-Tar-rixie). I won’t reveal the others’ nicknames, for their protection and privacy, haha. He’s the only one who called me that. I used to whine as a kid when he called me Tar-Tar. Later I would just laugh and respond. But I think this is the only time I’m even mentioning this in public. No one is allowed to call me that now. Only Lolo Tor could.

There’s never a dull moment when Lolo Tor was around. On Sundays we’d watch movies on Betamax and eat all sorts of things, from Red Ribbon silvanas (another favorite sweet), to peanuts, sweet corn, or his favorite, grilled pork liver. When we were kids and suffered through daily blackouts during the Aquino administration, Lolo Tor would regale us with stories of his childhood, some real—like what it was like during the war—and some hard to believe, like when he encountered a kapre and an aswang, and all the other tales old people liked to tell young children. Lolo sounded so convincing, that even now, there’s a part of me that wonders if they were true.

The most intelligent, most well-read man I know

The one thing I will always remember, thank, and credit Lolo Tor for the most is our education. My lolo helped send us to school. When I was a little girl, he would sometimes drive me to school, and that would be among my happiest days. He also encouraged me to always excel in class, to always study hard, and be the best we can be. He inculcated in me the love of reading, and he’s mainly responsible for starting my book collection, rewarding me with at least a book, or two, or three, or five from the Sweet Valley, Nancy Drew, and Hardy Boys series I was obsessed with as a child whenever I got top honors in class for that quarter. When we were in college, he gave me and my brothers boxes and boxes of books from his own library in his house in Antipolo, and he introduced me to the wonderful works of Agatha Christie. The best part about some of these books was how he wrote sweet notes to me on some of them. I’m tearing up now just remembering them.

Lolo Tor was the typical grandparent who spoiled his apos, but we didn’t get away with things. He always inculcated in us the value of discipline, hard work, excellence, and using one’s head at all times. Over and over, he would quiz us, “Laging gamitin ang?…” and we would have to complete his phrase: “Utak!” He’s the most intelligent human being I personally know, and I always secretly wanted to be as smart and as well-read as he is, although I honestly don’t think that’s even possible. He can recite poems from all the great poets from memory, as well as famous lines from the classics. But just by example and his constant reminders, I pushed myself to always excel in school, to always bag top honors, to always bring home that certificate and that medal, to always make my parents and my grandparents proud. That was all that mattered to me, throughout my life as a student.

I remember giving the valedictory address when I graduated from grade school, and looking up to the balcony where my grandparents were seated, and I saw Lolo Tor wiping his tears, and that made me cry—yes, I was sobbing as I finished the rest of my speech. And when I graduated with honors from his beloved university, Ateneo de Manila, which he practically made me attend versus the other university he kept claiming was “without a god” that shall remain nameless, he also shed tears of joy and pride, and it was indeed one of my proudest moments in life.

Yes, Lolo Tor is also one of the biggest Blue Eagles fans I know. He would watch all the basketball games, and when my brother was part of the Blue Babble Band, he would proudly point out his apo, and be among the loudest to cheer, along with my dad. He’s so proud of his alma mater that he had the Ateneo Blue Eagle symbol or the Ateneo Seal embroidered on ALL his shirts. I’m not kidding. And during get-togethers, he would randomly sing the Ateneo Hymn in his booming baritone.

Case in point: Here’s Lolo Tor wearing his shirt with a Blue Eagle, delivering one of his infamous “sermons” on one of our family gatherings, which I usually host.

The Godfather

I didn’t really know a lot about my lolo’s practice, but I know he helped a lot of people by representing them in court, sometimes pro bono when they did not have the means to pay. I also know he’s a great lawyer, but the extent of which I do not really know, sad to say. But what I do know is how my Lolo Tor and his family grew up poor, but with the hard work and sacrifice of their parents, and his and his siblings’ own hard work, they were all able to go to school and attend university, and he later took up law and became one of the best lawyers there is, as far as I know. And this is what he always told us: His own family and hard work got him to where he was, so he always made sure to help every member of the clan who’s in need. He also told us that we should do the same once we are already successful in our own fields.

And he did make sure to keep track of our career path. He always asked us directly or our parents about our work, always knew the company we worked for, and always wanted to be updated when we’ve changed companies and careers. He was always proud of what we did, and even when he no longer could process the world of social media, websites, and blogs, he always asked questions, always tried to understand, always wanted to know if we were better off where we were. He just wanted us all to be okay, he said.

He always reminded us to put our studies first, and we just had to comply. He always said having a boyfriend or girlfriend can wait, and so we did wait. When we were old enough to get into relationships after graduating from college, he always requested that we bring our potential partners to him FIRST so he can scrutinize and grill them before we got into a relationship. “Kikilatisin ko muna,” he would always say. And then he would jokingly refer to himself as The Godfather. And so it would always be a big deal when one of us from the younger generation would bring someone to meet Lolo Tor. He never really “scrutinized”; he was always gracious, always entertaining, and anyone who met him loved him and his antics—his jokes, teasing, quotable quotes, lessons, and songs, all delivered in a loud, booming voice.

To me, bringing someone to meet my parents, grandparents, and Lolo Tor was always a big deal. The person had to deserve it. It was only very late in my adult life when I was finally able to do so. And I hope the person he last met would be the one I’ll end up with, because there’s no longer a Lolo Tor who will “scrutinize” another one.

I know this piece was long and rambling—I’ve typed up everything I can call to mind about my Lolo Tor at this time of grief—but it’s actually just a very brief description of the impact Lolo Tor had on my life; it doesn’t even scrape the surface. It barely even touches on the impact he had on countless others. But, if I am to summarize this piece, it would be like this: Lolo Tor is the kind of man any person would be privileged to meet, fortunate to be helped by, and extremely blessed to be loved by and love back. His size, booming voice, great mind, and grand gestures are only eclipsed by the enormity of his heart and his generosity. You will be missed, Lolo Tor. And you will always be loved.