Man of the Century: Delfin Gonzales Sr.

Text by KRISTEL DACUMOS-LAGORZA

Photography MAU AGUASIN

Grooming  by SARI CAMPOS for MAKE UP FOR EVER

They say that time waits for no one, maybe with the exception of lawyer Delfin Gonzalez Sr., who is 101 years young — and counting.

What do you ask a man who has lived over a century? Having been born just years after the Philippines’ independence from Spain, he had lived through the Commonwealth Era, the siege and retreat of the “invaders” during the Japanese Occupation, two world wars, the dictatorial regime of Ferdinand Marcos, the peaceful Edsa revolution and the many significant events after.

While this generation has simply read about these historical events in their books, he remembers them with vibrant clarity. From the many questions in my mind, the first that I utter is the one that has intrigued me the most, “Why? Why do you think God has blessed you with such a long life?’

Delfin, the silver-maned father of five and “Super Lolo” to 16 grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren chuckles, “In all honesty, I do not know. The Lord has been very kind to me and I’m thankful that he has allowed me to survive. Perhaps it’s my reward to see my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren grow up. But I’m ready to go home,” he reveals, hinting at his desire for a peaceful life hereafter.

But there’s so much life still in this indefatigable centenarian, who is also one of the most respected and oldest practicing lawyers in the country. In 1974, he founded the Chamber of Mines of the Philippines, and served as executive vice president and legal counsel of the Chamber until 1993, when he retired at 79. But even in retirement, there was no stopping him as he finished his Master of Law degree at San Beda College at the age of 89.

Apart from following the rule of moderation when it comes to food and diet, he credits his long life to the impressive genes of his parents; Tatang and Inang, good provincial folk from Caingin, a small barrio of Rafael, near Baliwag, Bulacan.

In fact, most of his family lived to a ripe old age.  His father, a carpenter by trade, died during the Japanese Occupation at 80; his mother, at 96, and his eldest brother, just a few years ago, lived to a remarkable 107 years. “I hope to beat him by a few more!” smiles the youngest of 14 sons, who celebrated his 101st birthday on June 15. Apparently, not only is a prosperous life written in his stars, but also in his DNA.

In the comfort of his home, surrounded by shelves overflowing with books and altars of family pictures, Delfin has an easy aura about him. And when he laughs, his eyes crinkle under the folds of his laugh lines, which he has proudly earned over the years.

Aside from his extraordinary photographic memory that allows him to recall many dates and details with such impressive clarity, his strength and stamina  at 101 years old is to be admired. He still goes out on socials with his barkada(buddies), from the Royal Diamond Jubilarians Alumni Association of University of the Philippines (composed of graduates and spouses of UP Batch 1947 and earlier.) And if he’s not with his friends, he allows his grandchildren to indulge him on a date with a Liam Neeson movie (his favorite actor of late).

Most of the time though, he is contented with quietly reading at home as he listens to to Franz von Suppe’s “Poet and Peasant,” his favorite classical music. The light lilting notes take him back to his childhood spent at the Glorieta of Baliwag, Bulacan (not to be mistaken with the Glorietta Malls in Makati City), where he first discovered his passion for music while listening to Maestro Lucino Buenaventura.

Long and lasting happiness

As one listens to his stories, of which there are many, one concludes that Delfin is undoubtedly blessed; not only with long life but with the uncanny ability to remember even the minute details of events and moments that occurred decades ago. All his stories are neatly filed in the library of his mind and pulled out at whim whenever he wishes to remember. But there are certain chapters that are lovingly bookmarked and read like an old, favorite bedtime story.

From the many stories that he loves recounting — from meeting Gen. Douglas MacArthur and President Manuel Quezon at his graduation, and the tumultuous times during the Japanese Occupation when he and his family fled in fear of the imperial invaders. One  particular story that he never tires of sharing (and one that brings him the most joy) is that of meeting Aurea “Auring” Carballo, his soulmate.

He remembers it—as the cliché goes—as if it were yesterday. It was May 22, 1936, at a party held at the Carballo residence, not far from where he lived. He saw the slender beauty at the doorway, 15 meters from the gate where he and his companion, Carlos Galvez, stood. “I was smitten right there and then,” he recalls with a boyish smile, still giddy after all these years. “This young lady was what my Inang ( my mother) had wanted in a daughter-in-law. She wasmaganda, mabait at marunong.”

But what could a provinciano, whose boyhood was spent in the seamy side of Tondo, offer her except a consuming ambition to be a successful lawyer? That was a question that only she could answer. If she would have declined, he was adamant to change her mind—even if it took him a lifetime.  Fortunately, she said yes.

Then, began a four-year courtship and engagement. “I visited Auring everySaturday afternoon, rain or shine.” Consistent with the social norms of that era, all dates were chaperoned, and Auring’s mother kept a close eye on the visits, even whipping out the alarm clock that would remind the hapless bachelor that it was time for him to go home. In between those weekend dates, he would sneak a “flying visit” every Wednesday, before her class, at the Malate Catholic High School.

Since she was teaching, he could only wave at her from across the street on the sidewalk, a good 20 meters from the iron grill fence of the school ground. The smile and the wave she would return to him would have him floating on cloud nine, and sustain him until their next meeting.

Two years later on Dec. 17, 1948, on the day he received news that he had passed the Bar exams, the self-proclaimed romantic proposed to his beloved through an inspired love letter, one that even renowned literary Robert Browning would have been impressed with. He sent the precious letter through mail on Wednesday, knowing that she would receive the letter by the time he came by for his weekend visit.

His palms were sweating and his heart was racing as he walked to her home that fateful Saturday. “She met me at the door of their apartment. As our eyes met, she nodded twice, with a smile, but without saying a word. I offered my hands, both of which she held. I then raised her hands to my lips and kissed them. ‘I love you Auring, more than you know.’” She responded with her own sweet declaration and that sealed their engagement.

“There are many events in my life that I treasure, but the one that I cherish most is my visit that day. Oh how I would love to relive that,” he enthuses, aglow with a love that has never waned despite the years.

They were wed on Dec. 8, 1941, the day after the US declared war on Japan.

Needless to say, with his soulmate by his side, they enjoyed decades of marital bliss, happily raising together a beautiful family of five kids—Federico, also known as “Dickie;” Jaime, known as “Jimmie;” Jorge; Delfin Jr., known as “Chito,” and Maria Regina, known as “Jenny.” As a father, he worked tirelessly to give them the best life possible. “I have no material asset to give them,” he says. “All that I’ve learned and earned I invested in their life and education.” This is why his family is, indeed, his pride and joy.

His granddaughter, Ana, who has inherited his love for words and music, shares her thoughts about the man who has made such an impact in her life. “Lolo can be strict, determined, strong-willed and stoic, but when he’s with family and surrounded by grandkids, you see the softness in him, and how the love for his family is as fierce as his love for achievement. He is a particular kind of man: strong, passionate, driven.”

Ever after

He dreamt of spending the rest of his days in the comforting embrace of family but in March 2007, Auring died due to a stroke complicated by pneumonia. Even after eight years since the passing of his soulmate, Delfin suffers, and the days have grown to become harder on him.

“I miss her company very badly. I crave for her, I look for her even in my dreams,” he says, with tissue in hand and clutching his chest. “At night, I have a hard time, you know. I spend hours with her in my empty room, in my thoughts. It’s never like the time when she was with me. When I was a younger man, they called me a tough guy from Tondo. But I realized, I’m soft inside,” he reveals. The mere mention of his late wife’s name brings him to tears.

(Aurea Carballo and Delfin Gonzalez Sr. in their younger years)

In those bouts of melancholy, his photographic memory is both a blessing and curse. The same memories that warm his days are the ones that haunt him during cold, sleepless nights, but he would not have it any other way. “I don’t expect to live forever. My sun is already setting and I’m ready to go,” he shares.

While other young men fear being robbed of tomorrow, Delfin lives for today and responds calmly to death, “I’m not afraid of it. I was before, but when my wife died, I changed my mind. I welcome it now, because it will unite me with her. I’ll be happier with her. In fact, my prayer every night is that if and when He wills it, please unite us again,” he tearfully shares.

These prayers are uttered more often now, but he has learned to tame the heartache and instead focuses on the present. “The good thing about being 100 years old is that I’m surrounded by family and by good friends, because without them, you’ll be living an empty life.

100 years of fortitude

After 100 humble years in this world, Delfin has come to his own conclusions about the meaning and purpose of life. “When I am gone, I would like to be remembered not as a good son, a good friend, a good husband, or a good father, but as a kind and gentle old man.”

Like a father sharing his sermon to his children, Delfin offers his own advice to the young and in need. “In every person’s life, there are two decisions that you have to make on your own: one is what you want to do in life, the career path you’ll take, and the other is who you’ll love. I’ve always told my children, your Mama and I will give you advice, but in the end, it must be your own decision. Be careful.”

Another is to follow the golden rule and to live a life of kindness. “Life should not be self-centered. Life should not only be dedicated to yourself and family, but to your fellow being. If one can do good for others, do it for them.” Indeed, kindness costs nothing, but to those who receive it, it is priceless.

From the many interesting stories that fill the life of Delfin, why is the tale of his love the most significant? Because it holds a universal truth. No matter the man — whether he be a young, fresh-faced boy of 16, or a man made wiser at 101 years old — in the end, when we are alone in our thoughts, what our souls seek and remember is love.

And even in age, when our bodies may start to slowly betray us, our minds will fight and refuse to forget such a powerful force that sustains and endures. The secret to a beautiful life is simple, as shown by Delfin — it is to live deeply and love profoundly.

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