On Jan. 9, 2026, I stood before my son, Carl, and his bride, Toni, not merely as a father, but as a witness to the evolving landscape of the Filipino family. Carl—a man of melodies and sketches—was embarking on a journey far removed from the cold, linear precision of my math worksheets.

I realized then that while love provides the spark, SIKODIWA is the fuel. As defined by Carl, the term bridges Sikolohiya (Psychology) and Diwa (Spirit). However, I felt compelled to expand this framework to include Komunikasyon—the vital dialogue that ensures two souls remain in sync while navigating the volatile waters of modern finance.

To transform their new house into a sanctuary, I offered ten lessons rooted in our heritage. First is pananampalataya (shared faith), to build on a foundation no inflation can erode. Second, pakikipag-kapwa (mutual dialogue), to practice talastasan and understand the soul behind the budget. Third, pagpahalaga sa pinagmulan (honor the circle), because deep roots nourish the sunset years. Fourth, pagkalinga (financial fortitude), proving devotion by protecting the union with HMOs and insurance against the “encomenderos” of illness. Fifth, pagkanarito (the present parent), reminding them to work for the future but remain present for the now.

Sixth is pagkawanggawa (apostolate), for a home that serves the barangay never grows cold. Seventh, pag-iingat sa sarili (stay fit), treating health as the primary asset. Eighth, pagpupunan (complement each other), where like the bamboo and the mango, each fills what the other lacks. Ninth, kasaysayan (remember your history), using ancestral struggles as a blueprint for fiscal discipline. Finally, diwa (the spirit), ensuring the chores never silence the music.

Land of the groom: A modern oratory (with apologies to Raul Manglapus)

Looking at Carl, I was reminded of the “Tao” in Raul Manglapus’s iconic oration. In the mid-20th century, the peasant fought systemic oppression; today’s Groom fights a different "bondage"—a voluntary servitude born of love.

Once upon a time, the Bachelor owned a piece of life—specifically, a messy attic and a fridge full of ice. Then came the Fiancée, demanding tribute in the form of a diamond ring. The Bachelor remained silent, certain he was still the master of the remote control. But then came the Wedding Guest List. He soon learned his weekends no longer belonged to him, but to bridesmaids and dogs named Summer and Snow. He could not comprehend how a Shopee account could so effectively liquidate a bank account!

No wonder the Husband has acquired the habits of a subject! Reduced to the sub-human level of choosing between "Eggshell" and "Pearl" white, he has become the bent, nodding, "Yes-Babe" creature that he is. I indict the Wife-to-be for chores impossible to finish! I indict the Ninongs for promises of bliss they may never deliver!

But the Groom is waking up! He realizes that as a man, he has the right to at least one corner of the roof deck. He shall work until he falls from weariness for his inalienable right to be free... immediately after he finishes the laundry and admits she was right about the directions all along.

Carl, as you surrender your cedula of bachelorhood, do not view it as a loss of freedom, but as a higher calling. May your marriage be a masterpiece where the psychology of understanding, the spirit of joy, and the clarity of communication converge.

To the Groom and his Bride: May your land be fertile, your coffers full, and your music never-ending.