I met Isko in Vancouver when his grandniece Caroline invited me to visit. It was my chance to meet the Filipino community there. (Names have been changed for privacy)

Isko was a bachelor at the age of 82. He was a gardener for three generations of an Irish family. He outlived the first and second generations and was now working for the third.

He was trimming garden plants when we met. I noticed his fingers totally gnarled from arthritis, still able to handle a trimming tool. He said that years ago, he could no longer do gardening work because of severe arthritis that left the joints of his fingers totally swollen and distorted. He told Lisa (his third-generation employer) that he had nowhere else to go if he lost his job. She took pity on him, telling him he could stay and continue his garden work. He continued gardening under extreme pain from arthritic fingers, keeping his pain secret.

Mang Isko was an Ilocano teenager who spoke very little English when he came to America together with his brother on a ship from Vigan, Ilocos Sur to Stockton, California, where thousands of young Ilocano migrants converged to fill the farm labor shortage of California, especially the asparagus farms in San Leandro Valley. He was lucky to find a job with the Irish family and was spared the hardship of harvesting asparagus with scissors. I interviewed him (dialogue reconstructed).

Me: Apo (Ilocano word for grandpa), Caroline has been telling me about you. How are you able to survive emotionally for decades as a gardener with no contact with the outside world?

Isko: (Smiling) My spirit is strong. I am a survivor. Caroline, my grandniece, is my contact with the outside world. I met a lot of Ilocanos here through her.

Me: It must be really hard working painfully with fingers in advanced stage of arthritis for such a long time.

Isko: Pain is a matter of mind. (He flexes his fingers) If you don’t mind it, it doesn’t bother you. See? I spend hours massaging my finger joints to reduce the swelling. At one time, a sharp needle (perhaps of uric acid) popped out. That was a big relief.

Me: What do you do in your off hours?

Isko: Ahh, good question. Caroline gave me a small digital camera. I take photos of the garden, the flowers of all colors. Let me show you my photo collection.

He got out his three thick dusty albums of photos taken through the decades. They were fantastic photos. I browsed through them. They were awesome photos.

Me: I noticed you have a lot of beautiful macro (extreme close-up) shots. That’s a very technical aspect of photography. You have to be a professional.

Isko: Nothing to it. Just remember that the closer you zoom in, the thinner the field of focus and the more you need light. If you focus on the petals, the entire background becomes a blur, which is good photography. Caroline arranged for a solo exhibit at an Ilocano grand gathering last year. She and her friends helped me with the blowups and the frames. We sold a lot of photos. I wanted to split the income 50-50 with Caroline and her friends, but she refused to accept it. So I gave her some of my best photos instead.

Me: You seem so happy even in your suffering.

Isko – What suffering? I have no suffering, only pain that I ignore. I am perfectly happy.

Lessons learned from Isko. Pain is a matter of mind. Happiness is a matter of mind. Spiritual strength is within all of us. We just have to harness it. That was how this 82-year-old bachelor gardener survived for decades.

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