Caregiver

By Yael Remen

When May Villareal, a young mother of two, suddenly loses her husband to a typhoon, she is forced to leave her children in the Philippines, and head to Tel Aviv to pursue work to support her family. She becomes the caregiver for an elderly woman named Sara Berman. Sara is abrasive, however, and May’s first months in Israel are marred by conflict and hostility. Always fantasizing about returning home to her family in the Philippines, May nonetheless learns to speak Sara’s language, and begins to understand her mentality. As time passes, the two women develop a close friendship. When May later falls in love with an Israeli man, and becomes pregnant with a son, she forgoes her dream to return home and remains in Israel, struggling between countries and families. Spanning a lifetime and beyond, CAREGIVER explores notions of home and ethnic identity, as May and her Israeli-born son grapple with the difficulties of existing in two worlds.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796015515

Yael Remen

Born in Israel, Yael Remen has lived most of her life in the Unites States. Holding a master of arts degree in education, she has devoted her life to raising her family. Her three daughters now grown, she has embarked on a second career and her first love, writing. She resides with her husband in Arizona.

Book preview

1

S hirtless beneath his blue bib overalls, Joseph was sitting at his desk, leaning forward, watching a video on his laptop computer. His wife Lena—petite, olive-skinned, with lively brown eyes—was sitting on the edge of her seat next to him, staring at the screen from the side. Their grandson Jason, in his early thirties, boyish, bare-chested, in blue jeans and no shoes, was watching from a distance.

The video ended. Lena took a crumpled handkerchief out of the pocket of her house dress and dabbed her eyes. Joseph looked back at his grandson. Is it over, Jason? We saw so little of the boy! I want to see him again!

Jason bent over his grandfather, positioned his hands on the keyboard and started tapping on the keys. Sure, Lolo. Just a second.

The computer screen brightened as the sound of beating drums poured out and filled the air. The monitor displayed a group of soldiers in white uniforms, black berets, black belts and black boots marching in formation around a sunny parade ground overlooking the sea. Their heads were held high, shoulders pulled back, arms swinging back and forth, right arm with left leg, left arm with right leg.

Sonorous commands of a drill sergeant pierced the din of the drums. The troops abruptly pivoted, took a few steps forward, and stood at attention in front of a low platform. As the drums fell silent, cheers, applause, and shouts of encouragement were heard. The camera panned across the field, showing bleachers packed with men, women, and children in colorful clothes and sun hats, waving and calling to the marchers. At the sound of a trumpet fanfare, the cheers and applause died away, and the camera shifted back to the parade ground.

Two officers marched onto the field. One mounted the podium. The other took his place behind a long table stacked with guns on one side and Bibles on the other. The officer on the podium started addressing the troops through a standing microphone and then administered an oath. The soldiers repeated the words in unison. Their last phrases rippling through the air, the men were called to the table one by one. Each strapped a gun over his left shoulder, took a Bible from the pile, saluted the officer, and returned to his spot in the rows.

A close-up image of an Asian-looking youth filled the screen. Lena emitted a cry of joy. There he is, Little Joseph! How he has grown!

Joseph drew close to the monitor. Yes, this is our grandson. What a fine young man he has become!

Both grandparents bent forward together, intently gazing at the soldier. He was tall and sturdy, his bronzed face broad, his sinewy forearms exposed by his rolled sleeves. He approached the table with confident strides. As he turned back, he grinned broadly into the camera and gestured a thumbs-up.

Lena’s voice cracked with emotion. Look at him smile! He is so handsome!

Joseph murmured, He is holding a Bible in one hand and a gun in the other.

Lena kept staring at her grandson’s face. He resembles you more than his own father!

Jason watched the scene with an amused expression. He has your smile, Mamang. He looks just like you!

Lena lifted her eyes to him. He is your little brother, and he is taller than you by a head!

Jason shrugged. No wonder. Look at his father!

A tall, beaming Caucasian man was seen wrapping his right arm around Little Joseph’s shoulders.

Joseph winced. There he is, May’s husband.

Lena’s face showed annoyance. She has been married to him for nineteen years! It’s time you speak his name! The old man did not say a word.

A smiling Filipina woman dressed in blue jeans, white shirt, and black sneakers entered the frame, her eyes concealed behind dark sunglasses. She was short-statured, her long black hair shining in the sun. She wrapped one arm around Little Joseph’s waist on his other side and leaned her head against his chest.

Lena let out a heavy sigh. Oh, my good daughter, my May! How I miss her!

May directed her gaze at the camera. Hi, Nanay, Papa, Jason. We wish you were all here to celebrate with us! This is a big day for Little Joseph! His dream has come true! He is a sailor in the Israeli sea corps! We are so proud of him!

Little Joseph waved his hand and said in Tagalog, Hello, grandparents, big brother, aunts, uncles, cousins, I love you all! At the end of my military service, I will come to the Philippines for a long visit! I am saving my money for the big trip!

May chimed in, We will come together! We want to be with the family! I want to hug my grandson, Sebastian!

The next image was of Little Joseph embracing a blond girl with a high ponytail, wearing all-white shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

The image froze. A white circle appeared in the center of the screen with a black triangle inside.

Jason looked at his grandfather quizzically. Do you want to see the video again, Lolo?

Joseph reclined in his chair and sighed heavily, his countenance showing his agitation. Not right now.

Lena wiped her tears. Five years ago, when they were here, he was a skinny thirteen-year-old boy. Now he is a man. He grew up so fast!

Hearing the sadness in her voice, Jason bent down and pressed his forehead to his grandmother’s. Don’t feel bad, Mamang. You have heard him. They will come to visit us at the end of his military service. We will not let them go.

Lena’s eyes expressed disillusionment. You have not hugged your mother in five years.

Jason patted her back in reassurance. I see her almost every day on Skype.

Lena bristled. You cannot hug a computer! Sometimes I think this technology is the curse of our generation! Everything is flat and fast. Perhaps, if we did not have a computer, your mamma would have come to visit more often.

Jason straightened up, put on his white short-sleeved T-shirt, and slipped his bare feet into his black rubber sandals. I have you to hug, Mamang.

Lena gave him a wan smile. Still.

Jason headed for the front door. I am going to work. I will stop by in the evening with Sebastian. We will call Mamma on Skype to tell her how we have enjoyed the video.

Lena rose from her chair to embrace her grandson and bring him to the door. Lolo and I will wait for you.

As she watched him get into his blue pickup truck and drive away, her thoughts went back to the morning when his mother, May, left the Philippines to work in the Holy Land. He had been three years old, and she could not stop him from crying. Now he was thirty-one, muscular, his jaws square, his eyes dark and deep, yet every time she looked at him, the image of the weepy little boy lamenting the loss of his mother came into her mind.

When he was small, Jason had cried for his nanay and felt the pain of her absence. As he grew up, his grief became dull, like an old scar. He loved his mother. He was thankful to her for his education and the material things she gave him, and he wanted her to be proud of him. He had excelled in his studies, earned a college degree, built his own business, got married, and became a father; but there was no doubt in Lena’s mind that deep inside, Jason still felt hurt that his mother had not waited for him at the school gate after his classes, as the other mothers had done, and had not come home for his birthdays, graduations, and for his son’s baptism.

Lena went to the kitchen to wash the breakfast dishes when she heard Joseph’s voice in the next room. You know, our daughter is utterly ridiculous, promising to come for a visit in three years. I am seventy-five years old and in poor health. She would have to visit me at the cemetery.

Lena left the dirty dishes in the sink, wiped her hands on a towel, and returned to her husband. He was still sitting at his desk, his eyes looking out through the window at the forested hills in the distance, his gloomy expression betraying his frustration. She neared him and put her hand on his shoulder. It’s true that three years is a long time to wait, and we are not getting younger, but this is not what I am worried about, Joseph. I am afraid for the boy. There are wars over there. He could get hurt.

Lena returned to the kitchen to finish her work. Joseph stared into the distance as his thoughts carried him to his daughter’s daily reality. She was living an hour’s drive away from the place where Christ had been born, died, and was resurrected. She was swimming in the Jordan River, where He had been baptized. She was vacationing in the Galilee, where He had preached for peace and brotherly love, yet she was constantly worried about conflict and war breaking out in her land.

In her bedroom closet, there were gas masks to protect her family from poisonous gas attacks, and underneath her home, there was a bomb shelter, where they huddled together when rockets were fired at them from across a hostile border.

Joseph did not question his daughter’s wisdom in making her home in a war-prone area, just as he did not question his own wisdom, living in a region regularly stricken by tropical storms. The way he saw it, human violence was as tragic, random, and unavoidable as the vagaries of nature. What he failed to understand was May’s loyalty to her new country, and still more difficult for him to understand was her conversion to Judaism.

He had raised her as a Roman Catholic, as he, Lena, their offspring, and ancestors had been raised going back hundreds of years to their Spanish roots. Catholicism was natural, familiar, and comfortable for him, the only path to spirituality he knew, the only path conceivable. He could not understand why the little girl who had worshipped Sunday Mass with him wish to be different? How could she turn her back on her heritage, break away from her parents, and accept another faith? Were a few years away from home enough to fundamentally transform her?

On the spring morning when May had called her parents from Israel to give them the news of her conversion, Joseph had shouted at her, accused her of rejecting her heritage, and blamed her husband for convincing her to abandon her family and her home. May had explained to her father that she was acting on her own freewill, embracing the faith of the man she loved, not rejecting Catholicism, but her words had enraged him even more. He had vowed to banish her, never speak to her again.

For months afterward, Lena attempted to convince her husband that he had no right to stand in May’s way to happiness. She talked to him about the terrible day when May had lost her husband, Ramon, to the typhoon and became her children’s sole breadwinner. She reminded him again and again how reluctant May had been to go abroad and how she had given her earnings to them for ten years. Lena also talked to Joseph about May’s daughter, Jubilee, who had died at four years old under their care. The tragedy of their little granddaughter’s death after a brief, mysterious illness never failed to plunge both grandparents into morbid reflections. They accused themselves of failing to fulfill their obligations, reneging on their pledge to keep May’s children safe and sound while she was away.

Nonetheless, Joseph had not spoken to his daughter for three years. He finally started speaking to her again when she came home for a visit with her two-year-old son, his namesake. Little Joseph melted his grandfather’s heart with his pure love, the look of innocence in his hazel eyes, and the sweet sound of his voice speaking Tagalog.

Joseph’s mind was swayed by one argument: the whims of fate. He and his wife strongly believed that fate stood behind every major event in their lives. Fate brought them together, gave them two sons, two daughters, and six grandchildren; blessed them with health; and granted them a decent livelihood. Fate also brought death and destruction, creating the typhoon, which caused the demise of their son-in-law Ramon and whisked their daughter across the universe to marry her second husband Itay. Fate ruled all forms of existence, and no matter how hard humans tried, they could not change its decisions.

Similarly, May felt that everything in her life had been directed from above by a higher will. As she pondered on the events that had prompted her to leave her home and her family, she believed that the wind that had tragically ended the life of her childhood sweetheart and levelled their home had meant to pick her up, fly her like an airborne seed, and replant her in a new soil to raise a new family, speak a new language, and answer to a new God.

2

M ay believed that fate intended to grant her two lives, one in her homeland and one in the Holy Land; both equally valued, treasured, and blessed. Her two lives were stored in her brain in two compartments, like parallel universes, not overlapping or alternating, but interacting, coexisting, keeping her balanced, like stabilizers on a ship, preventing it from rolling from side to side and tipping over.

One compartment held her birth village in the foothills of Western Luzon, her husband Ramon, her children Jason and Jubilee, her mother Lena, her father Joseph, her brothers Lionel and Armando, and her sister Yen. The second compartment held her Israeli husband Itay, a passionate archaeologist, tour guide, and lover of nature; her son Little Joseph, as his grandparents called him, and Yossi, as she and everyone else did; and her home in Beersheba.

The person who connected May’s two worlds was her Israeli employer for ten years, Sara Berman. Their paths crossed through expediency. Sara lost her husband and needed someone to live with her, just when May lost Ramon and needed a job to support herself and her children.

Despite May’s sincere appreciation for the opportunity to earn money and provide for her family, her first year of employment was fraught with regrets. Adjusting to her employer was a struggle. She did not understand Sara’s language, how her mind worked, what she wanted, what was important to her, and Sara did not know May’s mind-set and did not seem to care about her predicament. Their daily interaction caused May to feel frustrated, baffled, humiliated. Every new task she needed to perform, new dish she was required to cook, strange-sounding Hebrew word she was obliged to pronounce, was painfully carved into her brain, forever eliciting the frightening emotions she had felt while experiencing them for the first time.

As was the custom among Filipino caregivers in Israel, May called Sara Ema, the Hebrew word for mother. In the beginning of her tenure, she uttered the word with great difficulty, if not disdain, for Sara Berman was not maternal and did not resemble May’s docile mother Lena in any way. Quite contrarily, Sara was Lena’s exact opposite in manner and character.

But over the years, May began to say the word ema with true intent and deep affection, for she discovered that although Sara was different from her mother in behavior and personality, she was not less tender or caring. May had started her life with Sara as her housemaid, cook, and errand girl, sleeping on the sofa in her living room. At the end of a decade, she was her companion and friend, sharing her social life as well as her bed. As May pondered over the meaning of their relationship, it became clear to her that fate had summoned Sara Berman to help her transition from her country of birth to her second home across the world.

May considered her two homes and two families gifts from God, whom she loved and strongly believed loved her in spite of the fact that He did not always show it. She viewed God as a unified entity, who, much like herself, belonged in two abodes, the church and the synagogue, both comforting and reassuring, albeit in two different ways.

In her mind, the church was God’s natural habitat, his stomping ground. At church, she felt happy, her smile was bright, her laughter was loud, and she forgot the hardships of existence.

The synagogue was God’s place of contemplation. At the synagogue, May was serene and subdued. It was where she searched her soul and examined her thoughts. At the synagogue, May reverently listened to Torah readings, even as she did not know their meanings, and devotedly chanted prayers, even as she did not understand the words she was pronouncing.

Itay had never suggested that May go to the synagogue, much less convert to Judaism. These were his exact words: South of Tel Aviv, outside Beersheba, there is a new suburb with small white houses with red roofs. In the back of each house, there is a yard big enough for a picnic table, two benches, a small toolshed, and a vegetable garden. Many young families are moving there because the town is nice, clean, and affordable. Yesterday, I drove through the neighborhood and told myself that this will be a perfect place for us. We will get married and raise a family. Jason will come to live with us. We will fix the bomb shelter as your workroom, and you will sew and send money to your parents. We will be happy together! What do you say?

Itay had whispered these words to May as they were cuddling and kissing in her bedroom, while her employer, ninety-five-year-old Sara Berman, was watching the evening news in the living room, her ears plugged with her wireless headphones.

He had been coming to visit ever since meeting May on a tour bus, where he had served as a tour guide and security guard and she had been a passenger traveling with a group of friends from Tel Aviv to the resort town Eilat on the Red Sea. In the beginning of their relationship, Sara was convinced that good-looking Itay, who could certainly charm any woman in the country, was courting her Filipina caregiver for two obvious reasons: one, gaining access to Sara’s apartment and robbing her of all her worldly possessions, and two, exploiting May and abandoning her once he was through with her. When she got to know Itay, Sara Berman changed her mind.

I might be half blind and nearly deaf, but my brain is still working, and I am telling you that he is a solid fellow, she said to May one evening. Besides, you are insanely in love with him, which is more than I felt for my husband when I met him, and we were married for over sixty years. So are you two serious?

May’s face reddened in embarrassment. Of course not, Ema, he is just a friend.

Why of course not?

Because I don’t have time for him, I am taking care of you.

Sara waved her hand with a dismissive motion. Very soon, you will have all the time in the world. I am sure you are aware of it. I am not going to live forever.

May’s expression became serious. But I want you to live forever, Ema.

Sara grimaced. I don’t have much time left on this earth, I feel it. I want to know that someone will take care of you after I die. Does he have money?

He works hard. He is always busy. He said something about receiving an inheritance from his aunt in Argentina.

Sara nodded in approval. Very good. A man needs to work, and there is nothing wrong with an inheritance. I will leave you a nice pension as well. After I die, you will be a rich woman. Keep the money to yourself! Don’t give it to him! You have worked hard for it.

May’s face brightened. I will put my pension in a savings account for Jason’s education.

Sara frowned. Don’t be foolish! Keep the money for yourself! A woman needs her own money.

May kept her silence. Sara looked at her with a playful expression. Don’t let him take you to bed so fast! There is no room for a screaming baby in my apartment. There is a limit to everything.

May’s face purpled. I don’t want to have a baby, Ema. I am too old.

Sara expanded her eyes in astonishment. Too old? What are you talking about? Thirty-three is too old? You are practically a child starting out! You look like an innocent virgin! Don’t tell me that you don’t need a man to keep you warm at night!

Embarrassed, May hid her face in her hands. She was accustomed to Sara’s eccentricities, caprices, and mood swings, but her employer’s blunt language has never ceased to shock her.

Sara glared at May. Look at me, girl! Take your hands off your face! May did as she was told. Sara’s blue eyes were probing. Tell me, do you like being with him? Is he treating you well?

May’s cheeks were flushed. Yes, and yes, he is very nice.

That’s all?

May turned her head sideways, covering her shy smile with her hand. I think I love him.

Sara gave a loud sigh. Thank God. Now I feel better. Marry him after I am gone.

May drew back. Please, Ema, don’t talk this way. You have many years ahead of you. Anyway, I am not getting married in this country. I will go back home.

Sara turned her lips down in disapproval. You mean, you will leave the man you love?

I will meet someone in the Philippines.

Sara shook her head and wagged her forefinger in disagreement. Oh no, young lady. Take it from an experienced woman. You will turn the world upside down, and you will not find true love again, not even in the Philippines! So grab it while you can. Itay is a fine person. If you really love him and he loves you, don’t let him go!

What about Jason? And my parents? I promised them that I will return home!

Such is life. It’s not good to break a promise, but sometimes it happens. Jason will understand. Besides, you can bring him here to live with you. Your sister and brothers will take care of your parents.

May looked down at the floor. She had nothing to say. Sara’s perspective on life was so unlike her own that it perplexed her.

She had not asked Sara’s permission or blessing, yet after this conversation, May felt a wave of joy at finding love and a burning desire to marry Itay. Still, she had her doubts. Moved by profound religious impulses, she decided to go to church to ask God for advice, but her church was some distance away, and there were no other churches in the vicinity. In the next street, there was a cozy-looking synagogue, which has long aroused May’s curiosity with the sounds of singing voices bursting out on some nights. So the following afternoon, when Sara’s friend Miriam came to visit, allowing May a two-hour window to go on her errands, she detoured from her usual route, reached the one-story flat-roofed building, hesitantly opened the wooden door carved with Stars of David from end to end, and walked inside.

Feeling as if she was trespassing, perhaps even transgressing, she timidly entered the dimly illuminated synagogue and moved quietly on her toes toward the back wall. A handful of worshippers were scattered about in the pews, their heads lowered into prayer books. At the front, a few men wearing white shawls over their heads were huddling around a table laden with books, murmuring in low voices. Behind them, there was an ornate wooden cabinet. A pendant light was suspended from the ceiling above the table.

Enfolded in sudden calmness, May sat down in the last row of seats, listening to the muffled voices coming from the front of the room, when she felt her calmness morphing into melancholy. Was this sentiment carried to her in the voices of the worshippers, or was it her own sadness, at being torn between joy at finding love and heartbreak at forfeiting her dream of uniting with her family?

A female’s voice whispered in English, Are you interested in converting?

Jolted out of her reveries, May turned her head. A young woman, wearing a head cover, was smiling at her from across the aisle.

No, May whispered with slight discomfort, I just wanted to see what it was like in here. I have never been inside a synagogue before.

The young woman crossed the aisle and sat next to May. "Welcome! My