All Is Well: A Memoir

By Jesusa Lucas-Lindow and Soledad M. Manaay Ph. D.

Her strict parents raised her to become God-fearing and respectable. She defies them when she applies for a job as a modern comfort woman for Japanese men in Japan. Before she is shipped to Japan, she falls in love and decides to stay for her beloved’s sake. What follows is Jesusa’s trek to a prohibited love zone where pain and only short-term joy reigns.

Fortunately, generous relatives help her, and her kids, escape to America to begin a new life.

In her desire to reach financial success, she takes on three jobs and also begins a career in the real estate and mortgage industries. After tasting success, she finds herself living life on edge. But soon, her foray in the high stakes game of real estate wheel and deal peaks unpleasantly. Financial ruin looms ahead.

Jesusa’s innate goodness perseveres, and she makes it her mission to alter her career practice. As part of her redemption, Jesusa attempts to regain her authentic self and her spirituality. She also begins her philanthropic work.

Jesusa’s life takes a beautiful turn when she meets, through Match.Com, the handsome, charming, and successful engineer, Richard Lindow. With him, Jesusa finds unparalleled love, the kind that makes her feel everything will turn out alright. No one else has made her feel this heavenly feeling, and she wants to make it permanent. But does he want her as much as she wants him?

To her dismay, he tells her he is not ready for a committed relationship. Her feelings for him remain strong even after he rejects her. It is Richard’s name her heart cries out when the equally handsome and multi-millionaire Henry proposes marriage to her.

Jesusa’s fairy tale life and love story is a must read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665574785

Jesusa Lucas-Lindow

Jesusa Lucas-Lindow is wearing many hats including as a philanthropist, real estate agent, landscaper, animal advocate, beauty queen, and now, an author. Her most favorite role to date is being wife to Richard Lindow and mother to Jorissa and Jovelle Lucas. Growing up poor, Jesusa’s humble beginnings inspired her to aim high and attain financial freedom partly because she wants to help others. She invites you to read her life story that tells how she navigated life’s hardship and complexities. Jesusa is the founder of ALL is WELL Foundation, a non-profit organization committed to supporting the homeless in Hawaii, and providing assistance to impoverished children and families in the Philippines. Jesusa lives in Honolulu, Hawaii with her husband, Richard Lindow, and their adopted 24 cats, some birds, chickens, and butterflies. Jesusa’s co-author, Dr. Soledad Muesco Manaay is a published author and editorial consultant. She finds Jesusa’s story compelling and transformative, and is happy to help her write her story.

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CONTENTS

Dedication

Acknowledgment

Chapter 1     Resurrected

Chapter 2     A World of My Own

Chapter 3     Lessons, Grasshoppers, and Typhoons

Chapter 4     Refusing Bully Victimization

Chapter 5     The Wonder Years

Chapter 6     At Seventeen

Chapter 7     Sister, Sister

Chapter 8     Those School Girl Days

Chapter 9     A Monster Among Us

Chapter 10   And Then Love Happened

Chapter 11   Journey to Yesterday

Chapter 12   Bittersweet Love

Chapter 13   A Complex Love Story

Chapter 14   Why I Wouldn’t Change a Thing

Chapter 15   What to Do with Lemons

Chapter 16   Reality Bites

Chapter 17   Rude Awakening

Chapter 18   A New Life

Chapter 19   The Curse of Love

Chapter 20   Trial by Fire

Chapter 21   Expect The Unexpected

Chapter 22   Living on Edge

Chapter 23   And The Dam Burst

Chapter 24   Karma is Not A Beach

Chapter 25   The Steep Learning Curve

Chapter 26   Moving Forward

Chapter 27   Finding Authenticity

Chapter 28   Faith and Renewal

Chapter 29   And The Search Began

Chapter 30   Self-discovery

Chapter 31   My Crucible of Love

Chapter 32   The Door that Opened

Chapter 33   The Path to Love

Chapter 34   Coming Full Circle

Chapter 35   Celebrations

Chapter 36   Being Mrs. Lindow

Chapter 37   The Secret to Our Union

Chapter 38   Dance with My Father

Chapter 39   A New Adventure

Chapter 40   Mommy Dearest

Chapter 41   A Means to an End

Chapter 42   All is Well

Chapter 43   Thank You

DEDICATION

I dedicate this book to my parents, Roman Marquez Lucas, and Nelia Garino Lucas, who nurtured us and gave us unconditional love. I hope you are smiling down on us from heaven knowing that we, your children, are happy and fulfilled. All is well, mom and dad.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

I am thankful to my husband, Richard, whose love, undying support, and encouragement became my backbone as I try to undertake what I have set out to achieve in life: have a successful career, manage my charitable foundation, and perform my other hobbies and interests. You’ve always been there for me. I hope you know I will always be there for you as well.

I also wish to thank my two beautiful daughters, Nica and Jovelle, for their loving support and for inspiring me to be the best person I can be.

Much appreciation to my sisters, Virgie and Emily, my nieces Eloisa, Ivy, Cristine, and Kailani; my nephews, Kainoa, and David, and my brothers-in-law, Mike & Sonny, for all your love and support, and for your contribution as directors and officers of All is Well Foundation.

Special gratitude goes to my Aunt Gloria, and her husband, Uncle Daryll, and their entire family for taking us to America. You have helped change my life for the better and I am eternally grateful.

My deepest love and appreciation to my grandmother, Saludia, who is 100 years old and still feisty as ever.

Special thanks to Hensel Phelps Construction Company for their continued donation to All is Well Foundation. Much appreciation as well to friends who consistently attend our fundraising events and for your kind donation. With your support, All is Well Foundation is able to touch more lives and make a difference.

Kudos to All is Well Foundation team in the Philippines—to Manong Bert Sanidad, Macamias’ Barangay Captain Romy Garino, and his family, and every one of my uncles and aunties, cousins, nieces, nephews and relatives, neighbors, and my best friends in high school for your support and assistance.

I also extend warm appreciation to Kyle Javier, founder of Tiny Blessings, for his commitment and dedication to his mission of helping homeless children in Metro Manila. Thank you for your inspiring work and for making this world a better place.

I also thank the teachers of elementary students in the Philippines who are beneficiaries of All is Well Foundation’s gift-giving program. As educators, you are instrumental in helping these children become better citizens and future leaders of the country.

Many thanks as well to the Lions Club for your hard work, honesty, and assistance to our humanitarian mission.

My heartfelt thanks to FAMES Hawaii, the members of the Golden Divas, AFHA, OFCC, All prestigious associations here in Hawaii and every one of my precious friends since 2005 including Lani, Adela, Yonie, Janet and Maria. And to my recently acquired friends who have become dear to me: Nora, Ruby, Rosalie, Annie, my Facebook friends, and friends whose names may not be here but are etched in my heart. You certainly have made my life more interesting and meaningful. Thank you.

To my pageant sisters, I am beaming with gratitude for your continued support for All is Well Foundation, and for your love and friendship during the 2019 Mrs. Hawaii America Pageant. You will always be a part of my life and I will forever treasure our pageant memories.

To all my real estate clients who have become my good friends, thank you for your trust in me. Without you, it would have been impossible for me to carry on the mission of All is Well Foundation. I am so grateful for your business and for your loyalty.

Many thanks to Dr. Sol Manaay who helped me write this memoir. Putting my life out in public wasn’t an easy decision. With her writing expertise, I believe my story has all the components it needs to become an interesting read: drama, intrigue, humor, human interest, and business insights. I was not sure at first that I wanted to put my story out, but now that it’s done, I’m glad I did it.

Finally, my sincerest thanks to all of you who have inspired me to do well, and those who have taken an interest in my foundation. I am forever grateful for your unexpected kindness.

I wish you all great blessings!

CHAPTER 1

Resurrected

As a child, I have died and may have been to heaven, but heaven sent me back to earth. I realized now that I returned to the world of the living to fulfill a mission, and to tell my story in the hopes of inspiring others.

This book is not about how or why I died, but how I went through hell before I found my heaven here on earth.

Throughout my journey, I realized that I always have a choice in what goes on in my life. Fate may have something to do with how our life unfolds, but the choices we make have major consequences. Luck also plays a part, but luck is not a stand-alone entity. Luck manifests through the role that other people play in our life. And these people usually are the influencers and the scaffolds of our foundation and they help strengthen and inspire us to reach for our stars. For me, my mother and father were my earlier influencers, and they were my lucky charms. Their influence early on as generous patrons of the needy motivated and inspired me to create a charitable Foundation.

We were poor growing up, but compared to others in our little barrio, our life was much better. It was better because our parents made it seem better through their parenting style that was rich in love and kind nurture. They did everything in their power to provide food on our table, roof above our heads, and clothes on our back, among other necessities. Though, when we ventured outside, we realized what we had was meager and subpar.

We lived in a barrio called Macamias, which was located in a Philippine province. Naturally, all we saw around us were rice fields. Nothing but rice fields. At the time, we didn’t know the difference.

My father, a rice farmer at heart, leased lands so he could plant rice for commercial purposes. He also held regular jobs—first as an office worker, then as a police officer. Even after he joined the police force, he continued his vocation as a rice farmer.

Both my parents woke up before dawn and would not sleep until their work for the day was done.

Unlike some parents whose children labored in the farms with them, my mom and dad never asked us to help. Looking back, there was no doubt that my parents had aimed high for us. They handed us a blueprint for how we should live our life—not to become laborers like them. It was more because we were girls, and they wanted a better life for us. They even trained us to call them daddy and mommy. In our town, only kids of rich families call their parents mommy and daddy. Children in ordinary homes, like ours, call their mother nanay and tatay for father.

So, there we were, living in the middle of marshy land and rice fields, calling our farmer parents mommy and daddy. Other families must have considered us strange, or even pretentious, but we loved this unique characteristic of our family.

Because we did not starve and we were not child laborers, we felt lucky in that respect. But what almost broke our young spirits and made us feel that we were at the bottom level of the economic totem pole was the environment we were in.

We lived almost ten miles away from civilization and our area was prone to flooding during the rainy season. Oftentimes, the heavy rain would create a pool of water in our backyard. We considered this a perk. We pretended we were rich and had our own swimming pool. That was fun alright, but when you had to walk for miles to school with the water up your neck and insects devour your skin and flesh, it was a different story. And that happened frequently.

One moment in 1978 was fresh in my mind. It was a Friday and I recall my older sister, Virgie and I wading through deep and murky water on our way home from school. The stormy weather should have been a warning for us to stay in Victoria that weekend knowing how easily our roadways become flooded. Victoria was the town where our school was located and where we have a little home to stay during school days. As usual, our independent and adventurous nature prevailed. Despite our parents’ strict warning, we braved the rain and forced our way towards our family home.

Soon, the muddy road was filled with water, but we continued walking anyway. A few yards later, the water rose to the level of our shoulders. We found ourselves swimming instead of walking. We carried our books on top of our heads as we strode along what had become a seemingly bottomless river.

I had the gull to smile recalling a story told by someone about models training how to walk by carrying a book or two on top of their heads. How I wished that was the case at that moment.

I did not have an analytic mind then that I have now, or an inner voice that would whisper to me the right thing to do. All I had was spunk and audacity of the mind. I can do this, I told myself. A few steps later, there was nothing to step on but water. And I wasn’t Jesus who can walk on water. And so, I went under. I must have swallowed a gallon of the dark brown liquid on my way down. At that point, I was dead to the world. Later, I was told that it was Auntie Belen, my mother’s sister, who saved me by diving down and pulled me to safety. It was a lucky day for me that she, then a high school student, was walking with us and had the presence of mind and the heroic inclination to save me.

The incident was an eye opener for me. I realized life could be taken from me without warning.

One would think that the lesson I learned that day would stop me from living dangerously. Far from it. During the days ahead, I courted danger in many different ways thinking that I was invincible. I believe that the reason for this behavior was my strong faith that the world was a safe place, and nothing could harm me.

In the succeeding chapters, I will share how I survived the quandaries I got myself both by choice and by sheer happenstance.

CHAPTER 2

A World of My Own

As a young girl from a poor family, I didn’t know the difference between my impoverished world and the world of those with economic advantage. All I knew was the hardship we went through. My young mind was asking, is this all that life has to offer?

But then, I discovered something that changed my world: I watched a movie and found out a different kind of lifestyle.

There was no electricity back then and there was only one family in our entire locality that owned a small television. The owner made it work by connecting it to the car battery. A car converter that would allow one to attach appliances to a car was not invented yet. We paid five cents per night to watch a movie, often a drama series. Watching other people’s lives played out in a small box was the highlight of our days for a while. And much of what we saw wasn’t much to crow about. They were mostly tearjerkers or slapstick comedies.

Much to my delight, my parents took me to a movie theater in Guimba one day. The moment the large screen in front of me brightened to signal the start of the featured movie, I was transported to a magical place. The movie showed what my young mind thought were make-believe sceneries. Beautiful people were living amazing lives in luxurious homes. I never knew such a lifestyle existed.

When I got home, I created and launched in my head my own world full of nice things. From that moment on, I found time to savor the rich life I created in my imagination. And I enjoyed it.

I gradually stopped playing with other children in the neighborhood. Instead, I would lie down in a quiet place, and with my eyes closed, I would imagine owning the things I saw in the movie and living in that world. I imagined our roof made of thatch as an immaculate white ceiling from where a chandelier hung; our bamboo walls became designer walls in warm colors that were enough to heat up a cold rainy night. I also imagined having a room of my own with a closet full of pretty clothes fit for a princess. My imagination did not stop there. It transported me to various places that only the rich could afford and I could go back as many times as I pleased, for free.

In the middle of one of my imaginary vacations in that little villa in my head, I heard my mom’s voice calling from a distance.

Susing, Susing! Come here! Now! It’s time for lunch! I did not open my eyes immediately, afraid to get out of that comfortable world in my head. Mom called me for the second time, her voice was a notch louder. I continued to ignore her. I still did not want to open my eyes just yet. My vision was too beautiful to let go of.

Jesusa, you are daydreaming again! Wake up, girl! Have something to eat! The sound of my mother’s voice meant business and she used my real name. JESUSA. I knew she was getting impatient. Grudgingly, I opened my eyes slowly. What did I see? Our ceiling had holes through which the sun’s angry rays peeked, no doubt to inflict splotches on my skin. Our termite-infested walls glared at me and the smell emanating from it caused me to suspend my air intake.

I believe we can create the life we want for ourselves, and this can start in a dream or in our imagination. I visualized what I wanted to have, and as I did so, I felt actual physical comfort and tasted the deliciousness of the moment. And nature listened because my imaginations eventually manifested. Sure, it was a long road with lots of potholes, but I arrived in that place, the one my mind visualized as a child.

Let’s not rush there yet.

CHAPTER 3

Lessons, Grasshoppers,

and Typhoons

My father was industrious and a natural multi-tasker. I have said this earlier. He showed us that there was no limit to what we can do. He was a farmer who toiled day and night to provide for his family, and he was wise and full of wisdom.

Until his dying day, our dad never stopped giving us fatherly advice. He always told us to think carefully before we make any decisions. I wish I planted this advice in my head and remembered it when I was making those decisions that turned out to be questionable, to say the least.

Be your best but give yourself a break, was my favorite. And the one I should have listened to was, Do not rush, be careful when driving. This advice turned out to be much needed, yet ignored, which resulted in serious consequences.

My father was a gentle soul who loved to make us laugh through his jokes. He used his sense of humor to make us happy. He was one of the kindest human beings I have ever known, and so was my mother. If there is such a thing as a couple made in heaven, they would most definitely be at the top of the list with their enduring love for and loyalty to each other.

My mother was always by my father’s side. She was his partner in the real sense of the word, contributing her own set of skills for their shared goal. They were kindred spirits and the energy between them was powerful. Mom had a beautiful exterior with her kind eyes and dainty facial features that complemented her golden heart. Her entrepreneurial spirit drove her to multi-task, like my father, while also employing her creative side. She worked as a seamstress and also offered cosmetology services to the women in our village and the neighboring places. I noticed that despite hardship, the women in our village spent money to be beautiful. Mom frequently received requests for cosmetology services, which she readily complied despite being tired from doing her other tasks.

Together, mom and dad raised us with love, and instilled in us values they wanted us to practice throughout our respective journeys.

Be respectful all the time, my mother would constantly remind us.

Patience is a virtue you must always practice, my father kept reminding us. My mother also taught us to be mindful of what we spent on. Buy only what you need and save for rainy days, she used to say.

Though we lacked worldly necessities, we never starved. In fact, we had the privilege of consuming only the best natural foods and the freshest farm produce on a daily basis. We harvested them from the garden that my father and grandfather cultivated.

These days, whenever I visit the market and I see veggies we used to consume, I become nostalgic and my mind drifts back to those heartwarming days in our small kitchen, which doubled as our dining area.

I could see us clearly in my mind: three sisters in our matching flowery dresses sitting side by side across from mom and dad. Our rectangular wooden table was laden with the day’s dishes. Our hairs were tangled from humidity and perspiration, our skin slightly sunburned but smooth and clear. We were teasing and nudging each other, stopping only after we noticed our mom’s watchful eyes. Our dad was insinuating the benefits of vegetables and the nourishing effects of the fruits of the earth. We filled our enamel plates with what was in front of us—rice, stewed vegetables, grilled eggplant skinned to perfection. A small bowl of dipping fish sauce with drops of kalamansi juice was a constant.

Our meals were often ritualistic. While eating, my father combined his jokes with sermons of life’s lessons. He would repeatedly remind us to be careful when walking to school or playing out in the open space. He also lectured us on the importance of education. My sisters and I would dutifully answer in the affirmative while munching juicy chunks of veggies. Oftentimes our meal would include fish freshly caught from the nearby stream, either charcoal grilled or fried in a pan, and other delicacies.

Have you tried eating crispy fried grasshopper? If you haven’t, you’re not as adventurous as you think you are. They are flavorful, just like dried shrimp, and clean because they feed on plants