“God’s daughter, talented person, beloved mom.”
With this epitaph on her tomb, former presidential daughter Josephine “Jo” Ramos was finally laid to rest at the Manila Memorial Park in Parañaque City at around noon on Friday.
Hundreds of people, including former government officials, mourned with family and relatives of Jo, who at 54, succumbed to lung cancer on Monday.
Speaking after the burial rites, former president Fidel Ramos thanked all sympathizers “who gave Jo a real rousing send-off.”
“Maraming salamat sa inyong lahat [Thank you all very much]. Jo is now with the good Lord; she’s now in good hands. And as you can see on her tombstone, she’s God’s daughter, a talented person and beloved mom,” Ramos said of Jo, the second of his five daughters.
Caring, sharing, daring
Also written on Jo’s tombstone were the words, “caring, sharing, daring,” which was how Ramos described her daughter.
Jo was both a musician and an athlete. She was a vocalist for a band and a bemedalled water skier.
An ecumenical service, represented by different faiths—Catholic, Muslim and Protestant—was held before Jo’s coffin was placed inside the tomb. The Ramoses are Protestants.
The solemn gathering turned even emotional when Ramos’ 94-year-old aunt, Lucing Valdez, sang an Ilocano farewell song, with ‘Adios Josephine’ included in the lyrics.
Jo left behind 17-year-old son Sergio with former husband actor Lloyd Samartino.
According to Ramos, he and his wife, Amelita, only learned about Jo’s condition five weeks ago. Their daughter kept her illness from them after learning she had Stage 4 cancer in November last year. Jo started smoking 25 years ago, he said.
Among those who attended the funeral were former Executive Secretary Eduardo Ermita, former Armed Forces of the Philippines Chief of Staff Narciso Abaya, Edgardo Aglipay and Manoling Morato.
Higher authority
During the necrological service on Thursday night, Ramos bade adieu to her daughter and surrendered her to “higher authority who is in Heaven.”
Ramos said he was pleased with the “veritable Ondoy of flowers” at the wake that “set some kind of record.” “Jo, you can now be a politician up there in heaven,” he said with a chuckle.
“It is only now that we discovered that there are so many people who admire you. These (flowers and cards) are not for us or for your Mama and I but for you,” he said.
He fondly recalled what Jo had written in his wife Amelita’s biography, “Simply Ming.”
“Papa Eddie tried to raise his children like soldiers. There was Saturday inspection of their rooms. He also made round-the-clock schedules for them; wake up at 7 a.m., merienda at 10 a.m., lunch at 12 noon, siesta at 1:30 p.m., playtime at 3:30 p.m., showers at 6 p.m., dinner at 7 p.m., study at 8 p.m., and bedtime at 9:30 p.m. The kids obeyed the timetable for two weeks until they chorused, “Pa, we protest. We’re not in the military. We are civilians.”
Sister’s envy
Cristina “Cristy” Jalasco narrated how she envied Jo’s many artistic talents and prowess in sports. She said Jo could design her own clothes, sew her own clothes and designed their house in Alabang.
Mon Faustino, a friend of 27 years and a member of the Powerplay band, said Jo never abused her position in society and quickly surrendered her driver’s license whenever she committed a traffic violation.
Gary Valenciao said he would never forget Jo, a godmother to his second son Gabriel, and rendered a song. She was a back-up singer for the Gary Valenciano Group, Faustino, Powerplay Band and was a fashionable percussionist for other musical ensembles. With Cynthia D. Balana