Annie was a grade school teacher. Johnny was a PAL employee. They were from very different worlds and backgrounds. Both did not think that they would find each other in this lifetime, but it was all because of Johnny’s sister who taught in the same school as Annie; she acted as their Cupid.

The first time they saw each other, Johnny knew he wanted to marry this girl. He courted her and regularly visited her at home. Annie was smitten. They adored each other and after four months, he proposed. They got married in May, about a year after they met.

Their marriage was blissful. They traveled together, made new friends, and loved each other’s families. Soon enough, they were blessed with two baby girls. During this time, Johnny began working in the Middle East. Their love came in packages, balikbayan boxes, telegrams, and cassette tapes containing sweet audio-recorded messages.

One eventful day, Johnny received a telegram from Manila saying that there was a family emergency and he needed to come home immediately. He rode the next plane to Manila, his nerves tingling; he had no idea what awaited him back home. He suspected it was probably about his mother or a sick relative. But when he reached the airport, another tragedy hit him: Ninoy Aquino was shot. The airport was filled with chaos. There was a citywide blackout and the streets were filled with both grief and dread.

The tragedy for Johnny, however, was just about to begin. He was fetched by his brother in the airport. And in the grim confines of the cab, as they drove along the somber streets of Manila, Johnny learned that Annie had died.

In that moment, the void in Johnny’s heart was greater and darker than any blackout. The light of his life was suddenly extinguished. Just like that, his life took a complete turn. He felt as if his world would never be lovely again, would never make sense anymore.

Annie died because of ectopic pregnancy. They almost had a third child. A boy. But life had different plans for them. Not long after, Johnny had to return to the Middle East to work. His two daughters would grow up in the care of his siblings. In spite of the burden in his heart, Johnny made sure his love for his daughters never faltered. From time to time, he would send them telegrams, toys, and letters just like before. He would come home and build them gingerbread houses and go on out of town trips.

Johnny never married again. But Annie’s death did not stop him from loving. He dedicated himself to his work and to other organizations. Most of all, not once did he fail to be the best father to his children, and grandfather to me.

It’s easy to say that love always ends in loss. But perhaps it is because of loss that we gain the courage to cultivate more love and allow that love to pour in different forms.

I remember about three years ago, we visited Lola Annie’s grave. The moment he stepped out of the car, Lolo Johnny cried his eyes out. He could not stop saying how much he misses her, how her memory remains as clear as day.

Some love stories have happy endings, while some, unfortunately, do not. And there are those love stories that never end at all.