Fe Esperanza Caridad Estanislao Cruz O'Connor (1921-2021) was rarely called by any one of those names.  For the last half of her 99 years on earth, the name "Caridad O’Connor" was on her I.D. cards, but she was called by many other different names, as it is customary among Filipinos to attach a title before a name as a form of respect or to use a nickname that expressed affectionate familiarity, as in “Ate Cherry,” “Lola Aling,” “Tia Caring,” or some adaptation that made it known you had a unique relationship with her. She smiled when non-Tagalog speakers said “Cha-Ling.” In the Philippines, and as a widow of Dr. Brigido Capli Cruz (1918-1952), she was “Doctora (Dra.) Cruz” to those who knew her as a physician and medical school faculty (1945-1957 and 1962-1972 in the Philippines).  But she was simply “Mom” to her children, Nadinne Irene Cruz and Rhys Patrick Cruz, and she was Grandma to Claire Malaya Johnson and David Ulrich Cruz. In the last 49 years of her life, she enjoyed hearing the voice of her husband Jim (James Patrick O’Connor) calling her “Dear,” to which she reciprocated with “honey” or “Mister ‘O.’” She was also “Dr. O'Connor” to patients and colleagues until she retired from neurology practice in the U.S., and then she became mostly “Cherie,” “Cherry” or “Mrs. O'Connor” to just about everyone, except to Filipinos, whose deference to elders compel them to create “fictive kin” attached to a name—hence, she was also “Nanay,” “Lola,” or “Tita” to many more people who claimed her! 

Her grandchildren, nephews and nieces could smell her.  Literally.  Every item of clothing had the faint fragrance of a favorite perfume or cologne from a collection that could be traced back to the gift-giver several decades ago. And she would always wear earrings, even as she cooked for everyone who came to visit. If you arrived earlier than expected, you might have heard an opera blasting from a very simple, old-fashioned record player or cassette changer. Depending on the weather, she might have given you a tour of all her flowering plants, even as you noted that she also loved colorful artificial ones all over the house.  Scattered throughout her home would be books and magazines on lofty topics of nutrition, medicine, history and politics, but she would always want an update on your life, including all the “tsis-mis.” If your visit lasted long enough, she would have plied you with questions about your aches, pains and illnesses, and you could not have walked away without a list of supplements you must take, “do’s and don’t’s” for your health and instructions for what to request from your doctor. And then you would take the “baon” she packed up for you to take home. Bottom line, she knew you and your story, down to the details of marriage, children, their schooling, romances, your medical condition and what you were going to do about it.  These were all the ways she loved you.

The ordinary rituals of her life—cooking, gardening, listening to music, keeping up with family and friends (she had many “black books!")—might have given the illusion of a life of ease and comfort.  Not true: hers was a series of gut-wrenching tragedies with grief too deep to be spoken of, except once in a while when the timing matched up perfectly with the right person to hear of it. Fragments of her stories would be told by a brother or a sister, maybe an older cousin. Ate Cely (elder sister Cecilia Estanislao Zulueta) would tell the drama of her suffering third degree burns from a careless cigarette flicked at her and the howls the entire neighborhood would hear when her scabs would be removed, and then how that pain she experienced as a child seemed to shape her goal to become a doctor. Her brother Kuya Dom (Dominador Estanislao) recounted that when she had just graduated from medical school “during war times” (WWII), she deeply loved a fellow classmate, they planned to marry, they were both resident physicians at PGH/Philippine General Hospital caring for patients, but he was gunned down by an American soldier who mistook him for the enemy, and she could not be dragged away from the lifeless body. [Today, there is a statue honoring Dr. Honorato (Rety) L. Quisumbing at the site where he died. Her spouse, Jim O’Connor accompanied her, when they gathered for the 50^th death anniversary, and she recounted: “He was exploring every avenue to warn those who were shelling and bombing that the building was a hospital…He took risks by going back and forth to the storage shed outside the hospital for food and other supplies which he distributed to the hospital kitchen and wards.” After the war, she married Dr. Brigido Capli Cruz, and together they served as physicians at the Lepanto Mines Hospthenorthern Mountain Province of the Philippines, an area so remote at the time that it was “Brig” who delivered both their children.Improbably, he was gunned down and killed on the 5th year of their marriage. Reflecting on those "two loves and two deaths," she would sometimes say “I’m like the black widow, you know?—Rety and Brig were both gunned down and killed. How could that be, two times in a row?”

Tragedies haunted her, but she had tender places in her heart, and throughout the rest of her life, she would be deeply connected to her siblings as her primary source of family support: Sion/Asuncion Estanislao Torres, Cely/Cecilia Estanislao Zulueta, Dom/Dominador Estanislao, and Basing/Basilio Estanislao. It showed in how freely and often she expressed great affection and admiration for them. She could go down the list from eldest to youngest sibling and recount each one’s special talents, gifts and stories. And she often recounted how her sisters raised her, “because my mother (Guadalupe Miranda Estanislao) died when I was 5-years old,” and how all of them helped her with school “because we were very poor—my widowed father (Florencio Estanislao) was a typesetter for Liwayway—they helped me graduate from UP/University of the Philippines Medical School (Class ’45).” Her deep love of each sibling extended to all their children and grandchildren, as if they were her own. She could tell you every name and she would prove it time and time again, whenever her balikbayan pasalubongs included one item for each one in her Estanislao sibling “clan.”

And she would love fiercely in survival mode.  She took a big risk going to Indiana University Medical Center for residency training in neurology, whereupon she would be that rarest of females, a “foreigner,” and a widow with two children (ages 7 and 9) in tow.  About her determination and subsequent success as neurologist/physician and medical school professor, she would declare “I had to earn a living, and when Brig died, I also wanted to die, but I lived for my children!”

If the first half of her life demanded grit and determination, the last 49 years with her second spouse, Jim (James Patrick O’Connor) brought lightness of love and companionship.  Together, they enjoyed art and music in many cities of the world, delighted in visiting family in the Philippines or in having family visit them, and everywhere they settled (in all of the 36+ homes and places in the U.S., where their ramblings brought them!), they were welcomed into the warm circles of “friends-like-family.” In between world travels or moving to another home/town/city, they made time for trips to see son Rhys (Rhys Patrick Cruz) and daughter-in-law, Deb (Deborah Cruz), and they bravely engaged with the challenges of becoming primary childcare givers, when daughter Nadinne (Nadinne Irene Cruz) took on a Visiting Faculty position at Swarthmore College (Pennsylvania), while their son-in-law Larry (Laurence Mitchell Ulrich) remained home to keep his job while freezing in the Minnesota winter!  She delighted in cooking Filipino food for her grandchildren Claire and David, monitor "violent" movies like Captain Hook, rub little heads, hands and feet, and fretted over athletic activities that would injure their brains. In the role of Mrs. O’Connor, she took seriously responsibilities for keeping in touch with Jim’s mother and family in Chicago, and, when asked, she could also name members of Jim’s family and would remember them at holidays and birthdays. In her remaining days on earth, Jim would make daily trips to the skilled nursing care residence to bring to his wife her favorite treats of "smoothies," cookies and pies, and when she could not eat them, he would bring them to the nurses and caregivers.

With Jim, a spouse who was always “game,” Tia Aling, Tita Cherry, Lola—in whatever role she would be playing—was able to continue connections she cherished with family in the Philippines, especially the children of her brothers and sisters; also with Brig’s family in Teresa, Rizal;  with fellow alums of U.P. Medical School Class of ’45 (they were very close due to their wartime experiences); and with family in the U.S., especially with two who lived with her at Indiana University, and who each spent hours talking with her about “the one” they each met while living with her, and who they eventually married: niece Perla (Perla Zulueta Warren, husband Jean Warren and children Marie Fournier and Jenyn Palmer) and Eppie (Epifania Cruz Skinner, husband Lee Skinner and children Bruce Skinner and Michelle Skinner). Perla was the daughter of her sister and Eppie was a first cousin of first husband Brigido Capli Cruz, who lived with Eppie's family while he attended medical school at the UP/University of the Philippines. Eppie was the daughter of Brig's uncle, Mariano Cruz, brother to Brig's father, Serapio Cruz.

Her full story would require many more pages. It is sad we cannot tell each other those stories “in person.”  While it can never be a substitute for physical presence with each other, your comments, memories and prayers in this Memorial Page is one way we can honor her memory.

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Mom, Grandma, Dear is survived by her spouse, James P. O'Connor; son Rhys Patrick Cruz (spouse Deborah Cruz); daughter Nadinne Irene Cruz (spouse Laurence Mitchell Ulrich) with grandchildren Claire Malaya Cruz-Ulrich Johnson (spouse Kyle Johnson) and David Ulrich Cruz (spouse Amy Vivian Cooley Cruz); and great-grandchildren Charlie Malaya Johnson, Crosby Kai Johnson, and Calvin David Cruz. 

Special thank you—Maraming Salamat—to you for helping to organize the Virtual Memorial and are also preparing for the One Year Death Anniversary: her nephew Tito (Augusto Estanislao) and his daughter Mariel (Maria Estanislao Calasanz), niece Vigie (Virginia Estanislao Cruz), niece Grace (Grace Estanislao de Joya) and her daughter Iris (Iris de Joya Borra).  Thank you also to her granddaughter Claire for preparing photos and artwork and thanks in advance to grand-nephew Abel (Abel Estanislao) for sharing your musical talents.