My Parents' "Bad Investment"

***** Posted by Marivic, Part 4 of our 25th anniversary series.

February this year has been a very interesting and pleasant month for me and Alan. It almost feels like an extended though early 25th anniversary celebration. We’ve been reminiscing about February 1985, falling IN love again and again each day, feeling flabbergasted at how crazy it all was now that we can look back with adult eyes, but just totally grateful and happy that we both had the right combination of courage and insanity to make it all happen because it has been, no question, all worth it.

However, even in the warm and fuzzy glow of love, gratitude and vindication, we also remember the difficult times, the inner-struggles and the heart-wrenching decisions we had to make to be "us". The thought that we actually more than once almost walked away from making what turned out to be the wisest choice we ever made in our lives gives me a sense of overwhelming panic! Several times I had to actually make sure I am awake, existing in my current life married to Alan, and NOT in some parallel universe with another person (Do you think I’ve maybe watched too many episodes of LOST?)

Anyway--- one of the hurdles Alan and I had to clear to be married had something to do with my parents’ expectations of me. I had been struggling with telling this part of our story for days. It feels so complicated and I am not a good enough writer to write a piece that will do justice to what I want to convey. I don't want to just tell the story the way it unfolded because IF NOT taken in the proper cultural context it might be misunderstood, and wrong conclusions might be drawn about me, or my family, or the place where I came from.

But it's part of our story so I'll share it, but I'm hoping that I can do it justice.

Marivic and parents, February 1985

The only way I can really describe my parents’ reaction to the news that I was going to be engaged to the boy they knew as Elder Marsden is: they were shocked.  They had no idea at all that such a thing was coming. There was never ever any indication on either mine or Alan's part during the 3 1/2 months we attended the same ward that there was anything more than just the typical member-missionary regard for each other. "When did this happen?"  "How did it happen?" My family was incredulous. My mother as far as I know did not believe with 100% certainty that Alan was returning to the Philippines to court me until he, Alan, was standing in front of her in person on February 3, 1985. 

The second part of their reaction was the hard part for me to deal with then and to explain to others now. There were no congratulatory hugs for me, no expressions of joy. Instead there were furrowed brows, quiet sighs and a far-away look in their eyes. In the aftermath of hearing the news from me, I don't think my parents really knew whether to be happy or to feel devastated. 

Why?

I know my parents wanted to be happy for me.  Alan was not a stranger. He’s been secretary to the mission president and lived in the mission home only a few miles from our neighborhood. He attended my parents’ ward for 6 months.  He was one of the more fondly remembered American elders that came through Cebu.  Many people in the ward or stake remember Alan as "respectful", "nice", "good", "fun", etc.  And he proved to be so much more than all of the above in February of '85.  He was the kind of young man my parents hoped their daughter would marry.

And Alan was American. Com'on, let's face it. That was a plus.  Don’t many Filipinos even come illegally to the U.S. because they'd rather be here than there? Everyone wants a ticket to America. I don't doubt that must have crossed my parents' mind somehow.

So why feel devastated at the same time? This is the part that’s hard to explain. 

Let’s say you were a poor farmer living in a land ruled by a tyrant. What if you have limited opportunities to better your life and the life of those you love? What if you are raising a lamb, an animal that is going to fetch a great price at the market someday? You can make a modest fortune and buy more sheep to raise and sell, and wouldn't life be better then? Your hope grows with each passing day. But what if one night while you sleep, someone took the lamb from your barn and the lamb is gone possibly forever? How would that feel?

My parents felt like that farmer must have felt. My family lived in a country ravaged by Ferdinand Marcos and his cronies, who took a country once second only to Japan as the fastest growing economy in Asia and turned it into one of the poorest.  Life was very difficult for my parents as it was for millions of Filipinos. However, it remained a country where a good education is still a ticket to a better life. Many in my extended family poured all their resources in to their brightest kids' education. These kids went on to become doctors, lawyers, business professionals and then repaid their parents by paying for their siblings’ education, practically ensuring social security benefits for aging parents in the form of professional well-to-do children. These kids, older cousins, were lauded as heroes and forced on me as role-models. To do what they did, I was told as early as I could remember, was the purpose of my life.

There are, of course, many options available to Filipinos for escaping the hard life. But in my world the chosen option (The Plan) was education. There was never any talk of marrying rich or immigrating to another country. Instead we talked of excelling in school and fulfilling one’s responsibility to the family. 

Fairly or unfairly, my parents' hope for their own lives, was tied to their hope for me. I was "the lamb". And the more I accomplished, the more their hope grew. I am not trying to boast and say I was so "awesome", but only that I was the oldest child and that my parents had reasons to believe I was a good investment.

Marivic and parents at college graduation, 1982

In grade school I consistently finished the school year with top honors, won school essay writing contests starting 5th grade even when competing against older kids. I earned a science scholarship by scoring among the highest in a regional test when I was 12. Even during my rebellious high school years when I managed to get myself kicked out of a high school for bad behavior (another post someday! J) my  parents' hopes did not falter. It grew brighter when I scored in the top 1% in the National College Entrance Exam (Filipino SAT equivalent?) and when I was picked editor in chief of the private college I chose to attend. With so much promise my parents pinned all their hopes and poured all their resources on me. They sacrificed so I could attend the best schools. Even my brothers and sisters had to sacrifice so I could have the best of the resources my parents were able to provide. The day I got my bachelors’ degree at the top of my college graduating class and gave the commencement speech, I was told, was the proudest day of my parents' lives. 

After I successfully completed college, my parents were ready to collect. I would get a good paying job. With my earnings I would now help pay for my siblings’ private college education. A few years later after I've "repaid" my debt of gratitude to my parents, I could then start my own life--- get married, have a family, whatever I want. That was The Plan, but it didn't take long for me to start derailing it.

I turned 21 the year I graduated from college and blew my parents away when I told them I wanted to be a missionary.  I was feeling lost after college and I felt a strong desire to follow my patriarchal blessing which stated that I was going to serve a full-time mission. My mother was distraught. After all the years of waiting I would delay the plan by 18 more months? My mom tried to convince me that girls are NOT required to serve so it was completely unnecessary. But my bishop interceded for me and my parents' being faithful Latter-day Saints eventually accepted and supported my decision.

Elder Marsden and Elder Morse singing "Humble Way" from Saturday's Warrior
 at Marivic's Missionary Farewell party at the Bishop's house. 
Marivic is in the foreground in a blue shirt.

Three months before I left for my mission Elder Alan Marsden was assigned to the mission home and started attending my home ward. On June 15th, 1983 I said good-bye to my parents but only for awhile, I thought. 18 months in the mission field and then I will return to fulfill my responsibility to my family. On that same day I also said goodbye to Elder Marsden. Forever I thought. However, unknown to my parents, and even to me at that time, that was the beginning of the end of The Plan.

Ah, the irony. At the end of those 18 months, I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that I would follow my heart and be with Elder Marsden forever. I just needed to tell my parents who have waited all my life and an additional 18 months that I could not be what they hoped me to be and I could not do what they planned all my life I would do. I was desperately in love and I chose Alan over The Plan.

So yes, I think you can say my parents felt like the farmer in the story. I was going away with Alan so we could be poor struggling newlyweds and would not be in any position for who knows how long to "repay". They loved me, of course. And it did not take long for them to love Alan. In February of 1985 he was welcomed to the family like he always belonged. But to be truthful, occasionally throughout the years the fact that I abandoned my "responsibility" not just to my parents but to my brothers and sisters was a source of hurt between them and me. I felt like I was my parents' "bad investment". For a very long time I nursed a deep sense of guilt inside. 

But as we all know everything worked out in the end.  Many years later after I was a little more established in America, and Alan and I had a little bit more resources, I was able to make it up to my family. The good education my family invested in allowed me to eventually get a good job in America despite being a little brown Filipina with a funny accent. Although my late father never made it to America, my Mom and my siblings are finally here.  One of these days, soon I hope,  my youngest brother and his family will be here, too, courtesy of me with the help and support of the man who stole "the lamb"J. As it turned out, I wasn't a bad investment after all.  I just turned in profit much later than expected.

I know that I made the right choice for myself and my eternal happiness 25 years ago. Alan and I are happy and we love each other deeply and always will. We were prayerful, but we also know that by adult standards we were insane and selfish. But that didn't turn out to be such a bad thing, did it?  Now I just hope we can be as understanding as our parents were when it’s our own kids’ turn to "disappoint" and joyfully jump off a cliffJ.

****Part 5 by Alan will be posted on Friday, February 26th (For reals!) :-) The series will go on until April so keep checking!

If you missed previous posts here's where you can find them:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3