Oh Mama!

"Love your parents and treat them with loving care. For you will only know their value when you see their empty chair." - from FamilyShare.com

Mommy, or everyone's Mommy Lolarga or Lola Nene, with her eldest son Junic who arrived Monday last week from Canada to everyone's surprise just to be by her side during her recovery period

I've only hinted about the illness in the house in past blogs, and I hope the worst of it is over. We know Mom won't be the same. At 88 going on 89 and even if her stubborn and hardy heart believes it still ticks like a teener's 17-year-old heart on prom night, she has to move towards acceptance, then serenity, that things won't be and ain't what they used to be. I interpret her illness as her body's rebellion against the beyond-human-limits activities she has engaged in the winter of her life, mainly, home management, keeping the family together and the many details of life that her obsessive compulsiveness can't ignore.

I've always interpreted illness or disease as the body's way of telling you to stop, pause, look, listen before continuing your journey at a pace more kindly to yourself. Many times I've been tempted to shout into Mom's ear that taking care of yourself or leaving something for yourself is not selfishness at all, but it can be a form of altruism, too.

When my siblings and I discuss our individual streaks of stubbornness, we are agreed on where its source is. But a strong will to survive and stubbornness enabled Mom to survive this latest crisis. Now I am an interested observer on how survival will segue to endurance and grace.

As our 85-year-old aunt Choleng ages (seen here with husband, Tito Rene), her Chinese features become more apparent.

Yesterday, celebrated as Palm Sunday in the Christian world, when Jesus entered Jerusalem to cries of "Hosanna in the highest," our clan had a mini-reunion to say "Bievenue" to once prodigal, now extremely good and gentle, son Junic and to be grateful that Mom and her younger sister, my confirmation ninang, Soledad "Choleng" Diaz, are over the hump, health-wise. We thank Lita and Shorty Server for hosting that hosanna lunch and merienda punctuated with so much laughter, the great reliever of stress.

Many people showed their support for our mother and our family in many ways, chief of which is prayer. To you our eternal gratitude! I close this Holy Monday entry with the serenity prayer taught to me by my high school Religion teacher, Auguste Sarte, SPC (I once owned an estampita of this):

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

Thanks, Steven King, for taking this picture. This is only about an eighth of the size of the clan on Mommy's side.

Sweet are the friends from girlhood

I wasn't much of a joiner in high school. I skipped the junior-senior prom when I was a junior, then skipped it again the following year when i was a graduating senior. The outsider feeling (OP or out of place) is quite pronounced in the teenage years. I guess that explains why I still like J.D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye and his creation, Holden Caulfield.

There's still a little bit of Holden in me even as I approach the next decade: my 60s.

But life is short so when Bibit Esteva Llamas asked if I'd be in Baguio Feb. 25-26, I answered that I was scheduled to visit family here. That was how I found myself with my lively Class '73 batchmates. I served as their tourist guide. We all had fun and capped Thursday with wine and beer at home where they met The Wee One and where the sleepy husband showed how he cared for me and my friends by being willing bartender.

Let's do it again, sweet girls of my youth.

Our ground zero was the Europa Condo Villas on Legarda Road where we had a full breakfast, the works! The gourmet cooks in the group, Vicki Narciso Valero (second right) and Bibit Esteva Llamas (third from right) took over the kitchen and cooked well-marinated beef tapa, cheese omelette, etc. Others in this chorus line are (from left): the blogger, Marie Zamora Lazo, the balikbayan from Vancouver, Canada, Rita Heimbrod Fathi, and Marianne Martin Soriano.

Imitating the pose of some bulul or figures of rice granary gods as suggested by the Bencab Museum guide

We "bumped" into my husband Rolly and his fraternity brod Chibu Lagman (left) at the museum's Cafe Sabel after we toured several upper floor galleries. If I'm looking more lola-ish than usual, blame the flights of stairs that my creaky knees had to manage. I recommend the lemon grass iced tea to recover fast.

Another group photo before we headed back to downtown Baguio to meet up with our former high school principal who now supervises the canteen and dietary requirements of patients at the Notre Dame de Chartres Hospital on Gen. Luna Road.

At 70-something, Sr. Auguste is quite strong and refuses to slow down. Her problem that Thursday noon when she sat down with us was how to find 40 kilos of fresh fish in the public market. It's Lenten season. The hospital serves no meat on Fridays. Sister Auguste still goes to the market almost daily with her kitchen staff.

Stopping at Billy King's Le Chef at The Manor, Camp John Hay, for coffee and pastries

The girls just had to stop at Mines View Park to buy and eat pusit before going to the nearby Good Shepherd Convent's Mountain Maid Training Center for pasalubong shopping. I didn't join them and stayed in the van to watch shoppers go by.