I arrived in Mambusao, Capiz province towards sunset and immediately caught a glimpse of the belfry of St. Catherine of Alexandria. "That's it. Yes, that's it," I told the bus conductor, my heart skipping a beat.
It was unmistakable. The church, though newly-painted, was exactly what I saw from the photo of a blogger who posted it on his blog years ago. That was about a month after Pa passed away and I regretted it that I could no longer ask him about how it was to be in that church when he was still a little boy. The blogger had described the church as eccentric; and I read up on St. Catherine, who was actually such a tough, eccentric and extraordinarily strong woman. She resisted the advances of an emperor who later imprisoned and incarcerated her. After reading all about her, I actually wondered how bad, loathsome and ugly that emperor must have been because St. Catherine would rather stay in the dungeon than to be with him. I failed to look him up, though, because as usual, I was too busy and did not have much extra time. I should even have remembered his name. But I forgot because all I was thinking then was my Pa. I told him that one day I would go visit his place and tell him all about it--even if he's no longer around. I want to go to his place to remember him.
So as soon as I got off the bus, I hurried off, dragging my luggage from the terminal, my heart singing. St. Catherine, St. Catherine!
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