MY dear Emil,

As the firstborn male of my brother Tad, you are special--the first among the third generation of Jimenezes to carry the proud name. I shall never forget the joy on the face of your Lolo Nich when you were born. For him, you were the guarantee that his legacy would live on long after he had made his last, gallant salute to the world--his link to posterity, his claim to immortality, his assurance of forever.

Your graduation from preparatory school was a big day for the family. Your Lolo Nich required everybody in the clan to attend. And as you shyly, but with determined steps, marched up the stage to get your diploma, we all cheered you, basking in the joy that overflowed from the proud heart of your Lolo Nich.

I have in my treasure chest of memories a lot of special nuggets from your childhood. With your ebony skin and curly hair, you were the object of good-natured ribbing from your cousins for being such a cute, cuddly Nognog. You loved taking long showers from a garden hose, and we loved teasing you that even if you showered the whole week, you'd never get any fairer.

When you were nine, RPN 9 was searching for a talent with your physical attributes for a new sitcom. The stage aunt in me joined forces with the stage mother in your mom to make a child star out of you over your violent but puny protestations.

We succeeded in hauling you off to the studio, but were stumped when you adamantly refused to utter even a single word from the dialogue you were asked to deliver during the audition. Not all the chocolates in the world could soften your resolve to thumb down the fame and fortune that show biz stardom could give you.

Early on, you knew you weren't cut out for the limelight. Of course, little did we know that the toy stethoscopes and plastic injections which were your favorites then were early signs of the doctor that you've always wanted to be, and which you have now become.

I recall the years you stayed with us to be nearer to your school. The study was your sleeping quarters, your private domain. I remember when you installed an extension phone in your room. I chided you for doing that without first consulting me--because the telephone line that snaked through the walls and ceilings to your room clashed with the interior design of the house. Truth to tell, I secretly admired you for your resourcefulness and ingenuity.

I remember you bringing your friends over to the house without first seeking permission to do so. I scolded you then, but, deep inside, I knew I preferred your friends coming over instead of you hanging out with them elsewhere. Also, I privately took delight in your efforts to improve your social skills and in learning that you were quite popular with your friends.

There's one thing that has made me particularly proud of you, Emil, and that's your conscious choice to be good. I know that, growing up, you didn't always have the ideal family life you deserved. Your parents did their best but they didn't always have the things you needed. But, instead of these becoming reasons for coming up with a recipe for failure, they served as a challenge for you to excel.

You didn't learn to smoke or to drink. You didn't turn to drugs or find solace in the company of bad friends. Instead, you chose to work hard at your studies. You displayed a hunger for learning that served you well in charting a course towards a life of self-sufficiency and a future of magnificent opportunities for success.

I write to you today because you are entering the portals of one of life's most important milestones: You are getting married! And, I hope, you are open to receiving survival tips from me who's not only your ninang but also someone who has rappelled through the steep cliffs and precipitous ravines of married life and has bruised not just my emotional limbs but my very life as well. (Yes, sometimes the best insights are gained not from one who succeeded but from one who failed.)

Emil, you have found Flora, the person you will complete as much as the woman who will complete you. You are God's gift to each other. As you journey through life together as one, never lose sight of this very simple truth.

Being God's gift to each other is not just an empty phrase that's nice to hear when one's heart is burning with romantic ardor, or a cute line that caresses the soul when one's in love.

It means acknowledging the indispensability of God in the marriage, as well as the craftiness of the devil to sow seeds of dissension and strife. It means recognizing the blessings that each brings into the relationship as well as accepting each other's liabilities as opportunities to love. It means luxuriating in the best of each other as well as helping one another grow to the fullness that God has planned.

Of course, I know Emil that you'll make a good husband to Flora and father to your eventual kids. You have a good head on top of your shoulders and your heart is in the right place. You have it in you to perfectly play the role of husband and father to the family that God will entrust to you. This role is embodied in three Ps:

Provider. You should provide your family not just with material needs but also with the healthy environment within which they may grow to become well-rounded, well-grounded persons. You should provide your children not just with the best education but also with the right set of values with which they may nurture their dreams.

Protector. You should protect your children not just from physical harm but also from the traps set by the evil one. You should not only surround your house with an armor of protection against the pains of this secular world but also make your home a safe haven for spiritual strength and growth.

Pastor. Because your house is a small church, you are its priest. You should not only introduce your family to God, but you should also introduce Him to your family. God should not just be the Christ hanging on the cross in the church that you, as a family, should go to every Sunday--He should be a living and active member of your family in everything that you do.

Emil, you may not know it but I keep tabs of even the smallest thing that happens in your life. I rejoice in your joys and pray hard when you encounter difficulties. You always give everything your best shot. And, through it all, you have triumphantly managed not only to live up to our family's best expectations--but to surpass them.

You are a man, Emil. More than that, you are a Jimenez. As you embark on this new voyage in life, always proudly live out the legacy of that name. Here's a poem that Lolo Nich gave to all his sons including your dad. They all display it in their homes. From here onwards, I hope you'll wear it in your heart.