Batman, Wonder Woman, Superman: these are just a few superheroes the children want to be when they grow up. As adults, we show them they are the symbol of victory, the one who will save us, to serve and protect … Continue reading →
I was searching for the University of East where I studied back in the Philippines. Finally, they are now on line however the history is still yet to be updated. I have so much fond memories studying.
This University is really top-rated. No such thing as being humble based on its logo.
That is tall order and I cannot reach that for I am only five foot and two inches tall. As a freshman, I prefer to have good times and date the men in the Engineering Department. I was a flower amongst the thorns.
There is one person, though, who jumps so high that she became a topnotcher. She must be about four feet and eight inches tall. They say dynamite comes in small packages. And that she is. With that small head, she is all brains.
Was my Mother very proud of her dreams to educate her children?
She was more than shock to find out about this. Her perseverance and dedication to raise her children with good education no matter how poor we were was a great sacrifice for her. Mother, we are proud and love you for providing us the life you didn’t have. Thank you, Mother.
I know I will be in deep doo-doo for flaunting this. Here’s to hoping that she hasn’t been reading my blogs.
Thelma was the top-notch. We are siblings and she is the second Octoberian who celebrates her birthday.
When it comes to perfect love, I can only think of my Mother. Mother has so much love to share. The story of Mother’s love is no different from others but in my mind, of course, is the best.Everybody calls her Mother: her siblings, my family and our friends.What kind of love did Mother shared? These are collective stories shared by one generation to another generation.Mother gave up her own education in order to take care of her younger brother. She reached Grade 4. Why on earth would a young mind give up her future for a younger brother? Don’t they have anybody to take care of my Uncle? The family is rich, for one. They can afford to hire a nursemaid. But that is beside the point. Mother took care of her brother.Mother married a soldier. They had four children and their father died at a young age, cancer of the lungs. Widowed young with four children. Who would marry her now? Who would take care of the children? During those days, fathers are the one who is a provider. Enter my Father.It was a whirl wind romance. Father married Mother and he adopted all four children. Mother must have been an extra ordinary person for Father to fall in love head over hills with Mother.Investigating how my parents met, I’ve asked my Uncles. They didn’t even know that Mother married again. No wedding pictures to show off. Father is a beautiful man, a woman’s man. He must have been a good provider to my Mother because he was a Civil Engineer. He travelled to remote places to build roads and bridges. Being away from home, there must have been so much activity in the bedroom because they procreate 9 times. In total, there are 13 of us including my half-brother and three half-sisters.On top of that, I heard there are other siblings outside the marriage. Mother went through extremes of getting to know this family. She helped them. Why on earth would Mother do such a thing when Father was philandering outside the marriage?Then Father died. We are left with Mother’s love.The love of Mother does not end there.When there are children born out of wed lock in our family, Mother will search for them and bring the children to the family. I heard that Mother bought (yes, paid for) one child from the mother in order to bring up the child properly.The house we lived was only a two bedroom apartment. People come and go. My siblings’ friends call her Mama Chuchi. It was full of life and love even though we were poor.Mother helped young women by teaching them how to sew. Mother paid for their work even though they lived in our tiny apartment and received free board and lodging. It was a symbiotic relationship. One remained with us until to this date. We managed to take her to Canada and she is my 14th sibling. She and I grew up together.I don’t recall hearing Mother say to me: “I love you, Lady”. No.Words are not important for Mother. She laid her life not just for me but for everyone. Mother’s love is based on her faith.If this is not love, then what is?
“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”
Related link: Weekly Writing Challenge: Love in the 21st Century
Trying to encourage Lucy (my niece) by her mother (sibling #9) to study French immersion during summer was a battle. Lucy has a hard noggin with a motor mouth. Nothing can persuade her to take a free course. It’s free, for crying out loud and it’s only half a day. It will be good for you to take advantage a free class. You are doing so well at school. What are you going to do all summer? Said sibling #9.Nobody can make me. This is my life. It is my summer, and I don’t want to study!!! Said Lucy.Well, think about this. This summer, instead of spending time with you in the afternoon after school, I might as well work all summer long. You will be at home with Dad and, your birthday is coming up, there will be no birthday party. Think about it. This is the ultimatum of sibling #9 to cherished daughter, Lucy.When her birthday came, I posted a birthday wish for her on her Facebook along with so many greetings from her friends. Her response was:Thanks for the birthday wishes everyone! I feel wiser already!Hmmm…. She must have thought about it and realized Mother is always right. Apparently, she wanted to have her cake and eat it, too. Wise choice, Lucy. That munchkin in the middle is sweet Lucy.P.S. I just sent a Facebook message to sibling #9 asking how old Lucy is. She responded: 12 years old, sometimes too mature for her age…
Mother. That is what I call her, Mother. Not just me, also my siblings and her siblings. She is a Mother to everyone and everybody.She was once given an award as Mother of the Year back in the Philippines. And I am in search for this award since it was lost in the shuffle due to many movements in our lives.I have a second Mother that my Mother prayed for Her intercession so that my life be spared. Her name is Our Lady of Perpetual Help and my Mother named me after her. She is the Mother of Jesus Christ.The portrait of Mother painted by my brother, Danny, and an Icon of Our Lady of Perpetual Help.
Write a letter to your mom. Tell her something you’ve always wanted to say, but haven’t been able to.
This is a bitter-sweet prompt. I will tell you the sweet part first.
As much as possible I try not to hold back my love, what I have to say and do what needs to be done to make Mother happy. And I did, that was on February 14, 2000.
Having just returned from a Mexican pilgrimage, I had a brilliant idea to start sharing my pilgrim experience. The best way to do that was to throw Valentine’s party and celebrate Father’s death anniversary to surprise Mother. But of course, I had an ulterior motive; to write a “blog” in longhand. I do not own a typewriter nor a computer then. My family will be the guinea pig for my first “blog.” All of my siblings came with their children. It was a successful party. Mother was thrilled. This is sweet. Everybody received the “blog.” No reactions from my siblings, I wasn’t happy. Mother enjoyed the “blog.” This is sweet.
When the party was over, everybody went on their merry way. Somehow, life got in the way; work that is. A few weeks later, Mother called me at work: “Lady, come and visit me.” I said, “Yes Mother. I will be there for the weekend.” I didn’t. I forgot. The following week, my phone rang early in the morning. It was my sister. “Lady, Mother died this morning.” That was March 31, 2000. This is bitter.
Now, if I’ll write this letter, will she be able to read it?
My Dearest Mother, I am so Sorry. Please forgive me for not coming to visit when I said yes. I love you. Lady