Saturday, July 4, 2020

The Kapamilya Culture

In my career as a writer/ media person, I have worked at two ABS-CBN subsidiaries: Star Cinema and ABS-CBN Publishing. Since I am a freelance writer, I have been tapped in the past to do short-term projects by the broadcast network's other departments/subsidiaries such as marketing, PR, radio, sports, and SKYcable. 

Through the years I have personally witnessed and experienced the Kapamilya culture. 

Because of my numerous interactions with the company and its people, I believe I can describe what it's like to be part of the Philippines' biggest media company. 

I started at ABS-CBN's Star Cinema right after college, a young graduate who was gung-ho on working in the movies. Back then, Star Cinema was a new film production outfit set to make a mark in the industry dominated by big studios. 

The entire ABS-CBN TV production department was located on one floor, which also housed the private offices of the TV executives. ABS-CBN Talent Center was tiny 16-square meter space that had one desk and a sofa. Star Cinema's own office, located beside the mess hall, was a small room that could fit only four desks. The network had reopened seven years earlier and the exuberant, raring-to-go spirit was very palpable among the people who were there. 

Perhaps one of the benefits of being in a small, growing organization was the accessibility to the company's bosses. A film production assistant  (P.A.) like me could run into Ms. Charo Santos-Concio, then head of TV Production and Star Cinema's Executive Producer, in the corridor and ask her pointblank, "Will you still get me for the next movie?" She eventually did. I stayed as production assistant for two more films and as promotions coordinator for 20 more films.

In my four-year tenure at Star Cinema, I developed my skills in copywriting and promotions work, which laid the foundation for the career I now enjoy as an independent publicist. ABS-CBN's sister company also helped put food on my family's table. Not just through the salary that I took home every two weeks, but through the rice subsidies (one sack of rice) that I received every month.

In 2003, I found myself back at ABS-CBN; this time at its Publishing division. I was lucky to be offered to edit API's (ABS-CBN Publishing Inc.'s) first and only soap opera digest called Teleserye Mag, and then be part of the editorial team of API's lifestyle celebrity glossy, StarStudio Magazine. 

The network had grown magnificently - as epitomized by the impressive 15-story Eugenio Lopez, Jr. (ELJ) Building. Still, access to our bosses, particularly Ma'am Charo (who was then head of ABS-CBN Entertainment) and Ms. Cory Vidanes (who was then head of TV Production), was simply a phone call away. CSC (Ma'am Charo's initials) and CVV (Tita Cory's initials) always had time for our team; they never turned down our interview requests. 

One of my favorite anecdotes about Tita Cory I like telling is how she continued to eat in ABS-CBN's main building cafeteria even when she was already a network executive. To me, Tita Cory's action signified that she, a former production assistant, was one with the rank-and-file. 

The cafeteria in the main building was the venue for monthly forums with then ABS-CBN President and Chairman Mr. Eugenio Lopez III a.k.a. EL III a.k.a. Sir Gabby. Called the "Kapihan with the Chairman," employees and talents were welcome to attend the gathering and air their concerns. Those who had to stay in their respective offices due to work could watch the forum on their computers and send messages since it was aired through the office intranet. 

I have vague recollections of what transpired during these Kapihans. We were always busy at the magazine. But I do remember sending a comment questioning why there were separate lanes at the cafeteria for on-retainer talents and regular employees. Talents like myself, I said, should not be "second-class citizens" in the same company. 

I did not think what I said would make much of a difference. A few days later, our editorial assistant, Manila, reported that the cafeteria lanes had been abolished and talents could line up anywhere we wished. "It's because of the comment you made," she told me. 

I cannot categorically claim credit for that. But what I can say with absolute certainty is that ABS-CBN's leaders -- the executives--do listen to the people under them. 

Around 2008, I resigned from the magazine because there was going to be a reorganization. The new editor-in-chief was bringing his own team. In the process, I was going to be demoted from associate editor to staff writer. My pride was hurt and I emailed my sentiments to one of my bosses. 

To my surprise, she called me on my cellphone and said that the division's head was going to hear me out. I got my audience with the division's head who listened sympathetically to me. I said I didn't want my old job back. I just wanted someone to know what I went through. 

That unfortunate incident is now water under the bridge. Show me a company or organization that does not have politics, intrigue and deficiencies, and I will show you a company that does not exist. Like my late mom had told me — every family has its own dysfunction. Businesses are no different.

But every family has its blessing or grace.

At ABS-CBN, this grace comes in the form of the Lopez Achievement Awards (LAA), an annual competition among the Lopez Group of Companies to which the media company belongs to. LAA is like the holy grail that Lopez companies aspire for. More than the trophies and the jackets that team members of the winning companies get as prizes, it's the honor that brings greater pride. 

For some years, I have helped co-write LAA nomination write-ups for SKYcable, which is a company under ABS-CBN. 

Separate teams would tell me their success stories and best projects and how hard they worked to meet their objectives to bring awe and delight to their customers. Listening to their stories always got me inspired. Anyone who's ever felt disillusioned by big business or lacked a sense of purpose at work will find renewed hope and direction. To the employees of SKY, it is hardly about the bottom line. Instead, it is about being of service. My SKY-subscriber friends who've been assisted by my contacts at SKY can attest that service is a commitment that the cable/internet company takes very seriously.

Without a doubt, ABS-CBN has made a big impact on my professional life and personal life. 

Humility. Openness. Service. These are the legacies of my days as a Kapamilya. 
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Thursday, July 2, 2020

Man of My Dreams

For many years now, I've been writing down my dreams in a journal. By dreams I don't mean my life aspirations, although the word is also synonymous to that. By dreams, I mean the images, the "movie" I see when I am asleep.

I dream very often. There are times I remember what I saw in my sleep and I am able to capture, to document these scenes in writing. I have dreamt of my mom who passed away; the more recent dreams about my mom have me and my mom doing activities together like trying on formal clothes and attending a party.

But this morning, I dreamt of a man I have had a fondness for. I have dreamt about him previously, some dreams about him I was able to recount in my journal.

You could say he is truly the man of my dreams. Not just in my sleeping life but in my waking life. He is kind, loving, honest, and he is passionate about what he does. He is insightful. During the first few times we talked I realized that I enjoy talking with him and told him so. "Thank you," I said. "It's rare to have deep and meaningful conversations with someone."

To cut a long story short, this man and I are friends (at least I'd like to think so), though I have long wished that we could be more. Alas, that wish is still a wish.

Back to my dream.

This morning's dream about him, (let's call him "C") was so vivid. Here's what I wrote in my dream journal:

********
I was in a restaurant with many people. I was with my friends from high school. I think I was wearing a white top and a white skirt. (What can I say? I dream in detail!)

I went out of the restaurant and when I returned I was so shocked because I saw C sitting beside a woman with short hair. She wore nice fashion earrings. And on C's lap, there was a baby whom he was feeding with a milk bottle.

I was so shocked. (Okay, I already said that.) I think C did not see me because he continued talking with the lady. I noticed that C and the lady were sitting far from each other. (Social distancing?) Or maybe it was because C had a baby on his lap and that's why the lady could not sit close to him.

I felt distraught.

I asked my female friend if she noticed that C was right there. And my friend answered in the negative. Why would she notice? She doesn't know C.

I walked around the restaurant like a headless chicken. I even wanted to ask the waiter if he knew anything about C and the lady. But I kept my mouth shut. I had some dignity and some sensibility left within me.

[I was going to say "Would a waiter know?" On hindsight, they do. Waiters are keen observers. This part is real: I remember a time I met a guy for late night drinks at Congo Grille in St. Francis Square and when my date stood up to go to the restroom, our waiter chatted with me a bit. He remembered that I interviewed actress Iza Calzado at Mario's Kitchen in Galleria earlier that year. This waiter knew because he was the one who attended to Iza and me.]

Anyway, back to my dream again —So I walked around the restaurant. I didn't know where to go or what to do because I saw C out on a date with a woman.

And then I realized my bag was missing. I didn't know where I left my bag, forgotten where I placed it because of my confusion. I felt I had lost something very valuable.

And then I saw C stepping out of the restroom. He wiped his hands on a towel. He saw me and didn't avoid me. In fact, he talked with me.

He said he heard me talking to my female friend.

Then I replied, "Was my voice too loud?"

Instead of answering the question directly, he mimicked how I talked to my female friend and repeated the question I uttered to her, word for word.

And then we walked together. I guess he was going back to his table.

I remember we walked closely, side by side, shoulder to shoulder.

Then I said, "What do you want me to do? If you tell me to drop out of your life, I will."

We reached a part of the restaurant with a short flight of stairs, a set of few steps with a railing.

When C and I got there, we stopped walking. And then C did the most surprising thing.

He faced me and, in a tender voice, said a prayer of thanks for our friendship.

Just like that, I admired him even more. And then I said to myself, "How can I give up on him?"
********

I woke up feeling happy, free, and with a sense of clarity. St. Joseph I am not, but I believed God was speaking to me in my dream.



Tuesday, February 4, 2020

The Lucky One

A happy day with Father Lukas Centeno OSB at the 2019 SEA Games football match between the Philippines and Malaysia



Father Lukas Centeno OSB wasn't very tall by male standards. His height was probably around 5 feet 6 inches. In fact, if he stood among the crowd wearing casual clothes and a cap (instead of his priestly garments), he would have blended in.

But when he opened his mouth and spoke loudly, Father Lukas made heads turn. And when he laughed obnoxiously, you'd either dislike him or you'd be amused. 

To someone who didn't know him, Father Lukas could be easily perceived as someone "na malakas ang dating." 

Some months ago, I had formed a sort of bond with Father Lukas. Previously, I had messaged him on Facebook to interview him for an article. He turned me down saying that he didn't like being interviewed.

What he liked, or more precisely, what he loved, was football - a sport that he played during his student days in San Beda as a varsity athlete, and he supported as one of the prime movers and facilitators of the San Beda Football program.

He flooded the San Beda Football / Mendiola FC Facebook group page with articles about the latest developments in international football. More often, he shared photos, news, even throwback pics about San Beda's own football team. 

His other passion was art. On his personal Facebook account, Father Lukas shared images of religious art, breathtaking photographs, impressionist paintings such as the works of Vincent Van Gogh - a Father Lukas lookalike. 

In spite of his "strong personality," Father Lukas possessed an undeniable charm, a magnetic appeal. For me, it was his love for both the beautiful game of football and for beautiful art that I found fascinating. 

Last October, I messaged Father Lukas to ask if I could visit him at San Beda University. I was going to St. Jude Church, which was close to the school, and thought of making a side trip to San Beda. He said he would be out but invited me to attend mass at the Abbey at 7:00 am the following day. I said yes.

"Great," he replied. "Sa front pew ka sana. Konti lang ang faithful attendees," he said. 

Now being on time isn't one of my traits and I usually sleep until 8:00 am. But contrary to form, there I was sitting on the first pew of the Abbey of Our Lady of Montserrat at 7:00 am. I couldn't believe I wasn't late. I couldn't believe I was wide awake. 

Father Lukas officiated the mass. He was soft spoken and rather serious. After the mass, he invited me to eat breakfast at the dining hall where all the priests have their meals. 

For the second time that day, I felt I was in a surreal environment. I was the lone female wearing black in a room with men wearing white vestments. I was eating fried rice and tapa and Abbey bread, having a chat with Father Lukas who, prior, I only exchanged messages with on Facebook Messenger. 

What I thought would be a quick hello after the 30-minute mass turned out to be an almost 90-minute peek into the life of Father Lukas and the private world of the San Beda monks. Father Lukas told me about his sister Laura who starred in the movie "Himala" alongside Nora Aunor, and about his father who was a contemporary of Filipino literary greats NVM Gonzalez and Liwayway Arceo; he talked about how he got support for the San Beda Football Team prior to the team becoming a powerhouse in the NCAA. 

He toured me around San Beda Mendiola: to the secluded meditation garden of the monks, the museum with images of the Santo Nino, the swimming pool where the champion SBU Sea Lions trained, the football field a.k.a. the "Home of the San Beda Football Gods," and also the small farm where he raised fighting cocks (that he would eventually give away to sabungero-friends.) 

At the end of the tour, we returned to the Abbey where he blessed my sister's St. Benedict images and medallions and gave me two medallions and blessed those as well.  "Hindi magiging effective ang medallions kapag hindi na-bless," he said. 

That wasn't all. He also gave a loaf of Abbey bread for me to take home as "pasalubong."

At the day's end, we exchanged messages on Facebook. I thanked him for his generosity. 

"Wow, bakit parang matagal na kita kilala?" he asked. "I was so relaxed sa conversations natin, yet now lang tayo nagmeet... Yeah!"

I reminded him we were briefly introduced to each other during the 2016 NCAA Victory Bonfire in San Beda. 

I would talk with Father Lukas in person a few more times after October 2019: to watch the 2019 SEA Games match of  the Philippines' U-23 team against Malaysia, at the December 21 Simbang Gabi at the Abbey of Our Lady of Montserrat, and at a random encounter along Tomas Morato Extension where I chanced upon him boarding the Innova van that would take him back to San Beda.

Watching the SEA Games football match last November with him was a rare and special treat. Father Lukas proposed that I park my car inside the San Beda complex and then have dinner with him at the Abbey, before watching the game at Rizal Memorial Football Stadium.

I was running late that evening and apologized profusely to Father Lukas when I arrived at San Beda. My tardiness wasn't an issue to him. He assured me saying, "Easy ka lang."

We shared a meal again at the dining hall. When Father Lukas started introducing me to his fellow monks, I realized I made the mistake of wearing a sleeveless above-the-knee jumpsuit that was appropriate at Rizal Memorial Football Stadium, but was inappropriate to wear among the members of a religious community. I quickly got the shawl I had in my bag and placed it on my shoulder to hide my exposed arms. 

Father Lukas must have noticed my uneasiness because he told me to remove my shawl. He said my outfit was chic and fashionable.

Father Lukas had that gift of instantly raising your spirits when you feel low, of making you feel accepted when you think you don't belong. 

Most likely it was because of his years of mentoring young students, especially student-athletes who bore the pressure of getting decent grades while winning championships. 

But I strongly believe it was because he had experienced God's unconditional love and acceptance firsthand in his struggle to stay true to his priestly vows. He was very enthusiastic in talking about the Holy Gospel, as he was very open about appreciating the beauty of female spectators wearing short shorts at Rizal Memorial Football Stadium, or trying hard not to look at Gloria Diaz's cleavage as the former Miss Universe was receiving Holy Communion at San Beda Alabang. You could say he was such a guy but he remained a man of God. 

I think Father Lukas was the only boy among a brood of four, which includes his sisters Laura, Puri and Teng. The only son and he opted to be a priest instead of continuing the Centeno family name. 

In choosing so he became part of the lives of many families. By officiating at weddings, baptisms and at wakes, funerals and death anniversaries. He became an involved "father" to many, many children by being truly present in their lives - at special occasions, at everyday get-togethers, at football games, and simply by sending messages on Facebook and SMS. 

My last conversation with Father Lukas happened on January 24, 2020, after we saw each other in Tomas Morato. 

Hours later, he sent me this message on Facebook: "Hey girl! Lucky me nagkita tayo!" he said.

"Hello, Father Lukas!" I answered. "It was good to see you today."

He never got to see my reply. 

Now that I reflect on his passing and how much he has shared with me in a short span of time, I want to tell him, "Hey, Father! Ako ang tunay na masuwerte nakilala kita... Kami... kaming mga naging kaibigan mo ang tunay na masuwerte kasi nakilala ka namin.... May we be a blessing to others as you have been a blessing to us."
* * * * * * * *

Thursday, June 13, 2019

Para Kay Kuya Cesar

Cesar Hernando with his stars Benjamin Alves and Phoebe Walker



Note: In 2015, I submitted an article to InterAksyon.com entertainment editor Eric Ramos about the full-length directorial debut of production designer Cesar Hernando. After years of helping so many others put together their own films, Kuya Cesar got to direct a full-length feature in 2015 — the QCinema film, "Gayuma."

Eric was so gracious to publish my article. When Kuya Cesar passed away last May, I tried looking for the article online but could not find it. (I think it "disappeared" when InterAksyon.com was acquired by another company.) I lost the file in my computer. On June 13, 2019, I found the article in my sent box. Thank goodness I didn't delete my email to Eric! 

So, here's the article as I submitted it, with photos that were emailed to me by Kuya Cesar himself.


Veteran production designer makes first full-length directorial debut

It’s never too late to make your dream come true.

After collaborating with the finest directors in the country, award-winning production designer and Fine Arts professor Cesar Hernando makes his full-length directorial debut with “Gayuma,” one of the eight finalists in the 2015 QCinema International Film Festival Circle Competition.

Hernando has received Best Production Design awards from Gawad Urian (for “Batang West Side” of director Lav Diaz, “Bayani” of director Raymond Red, and “Kisapmata” of director Mike de Leon), and from the Young Critics Circle (for “Himpapawid” of director Raymond Red). Hernando is also known for the design of Maryo J. delos Reyes’ “Tagos ng Dugo” and Mes de Guzman’s “Diablo” and “Ang Kwento ni Mabuti.” Kuys—as Hernando is fondly called by family and friends and students at the University of the Philippines Diliman—has collaborated with Mike de Leon on “Hindi Nahahati Ang Langit,” “Sister Stella L,” “Batch ’81,” and “Bayaning Third World.”

He began his film career in 1971 as assistant director of Ishmael Bernal’s “Pagdating sa Dulo,” He has directed three short features shot on 35mm film: “Maalinsangan ang Gabi,” “Motorsiklo” (written and produced by Mike de Leon) and “Kagat ng Dilim” which starred Piolo Pascual in his first independent film.  Hernando also has two experimental films, “Botika Bituka” and “Kalawang” both of which are still doing the rounds of international filmfests. Directing a full-length feature has been his long-time wish.

“Gayuma” (“Allure”) tells the story of art student Mike (Benjamin Alves) who is in a relationship with film student Joy (newcomer Elora Españo) but becomes obsessed with an enigmatic model Stella (portrayed by Amazing Race Philippines Season 2 winner Phoebe Walker).

Benjamin Alves as UP Fine Arts student


The film was shot on location at the University of the Philippines Fine Arts Department.

Hernando’s first full-length feature film explores the deep connection between the artist-creator and his subject. “Gayuma” also gives a peek into the life of a fine arts student as it was shot on location in UP Diliman. Kuys reveals,  "The story is based on a short feature film ‘Puting Kanbas’ that I shot 25 years ago using Super 8 film. Then ten years ago, I decided to expand the story into a full-length feature film. I had even shot some scenes with Sid Lucero and Denise Laurel in digital format but somehow the project didn't materialize due to financial and casting challenges.”

Although the themes are about visual arts and films—topics that Kuys is very familiar with—he emphasizes that the characters and situations are fictional. “They are imagined,” he says. The production designer-turned-director also declares that sometimes the boundaries between imagination and reality become blurred.

Kamikaze band made a cameo in the film.


Bembol Roco as a psychic


The cast includes notable appearances by Cherie Gil (as Mike’s aunt) and Bembol Roco (as a pyschic), Sue Prado, and Kiko Matos. “Gayuma” marks one of the last performances of  the band Kamikazee which will have a farewell concert in December. The members of Kamikazee are former students of Kuys.


Lav Diaz was one of the directors who made a cameo in Kuya Cesar's feature film


Other personalities who have cameos are directors Lav Diaz, Raymond Red, Mes de Guzman, and Rico Ilarde, visual artist Romeo Lee, graphic novelist Arnold Arre, producers Ed Rocha and Fernando Ortigas, and plus teachers of UP Fine Arts. Actually, friends, family, current and former students, colleagues and fellow filmmakers fill the screens of Kuys’ feature directorial debut. All are extremely happy to be part of Kuys’ dream project. “Gayuma” is co-produced by Tuko Film Productions, Buchi Boy Films, Hernando’s Hideaway through through the Qcinema International Film Festival and the QC Film Development Commission.

At the gala premiere of “Gayuma,” Kuys declared that he has begun a new chapter in his life and career. “I hope to direct more full-length films in the future,” he said.

“Gayuma” will be showing at Gateway Cineplex on Saturday, October 31, at 7:50 PM.
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Saturday, May 13, 2017

It Takes A Lifetime




My mother, Amanda, when she was a teacher at Miriam College


Let me tell you about our mom Amanda. She is Amy to her friends. Nana Manda to her relatives. Buga (short for “baluga”) to the ones who knew her when she was a little girl.

She was born in Bagong Silang, San Miguel, Bulacan in 1941. Her father Fortunato was a farmer who, our mom said, was part of the Hukbalahap Movement. Her mother, Maria, was a housewife. Amanda was the second to the youngest of seven children. Eulogio, Luisa, Adring, Pedro, Catalina, and Efren.

According to Nana Adring, Manda was the only one among the siblings who did not work in the fields. Our mother Amanda preferred to study. To contribute to the family, she sewed the edges of hankies. "Nagtatahi ng panyo."

Manda walked a long stretch to go to school, bringing another set of clothes that she could change into when she arrived there. She would be so sweaty because of the great distance that she walked.

When Manda was about to graduate from high school, her mother Maria passed away. It was a bittersweet time in her life as she was also awarded class salutatorian. Manda did not cry until her mother was already laid in the tomb.

Our mother was the only one among her siblings to reach and finish college— a feat she achieved by being a working student. She was a saleslady at the textile store of Mrs. Letty Anasco in Manila Shopping, which was a stone's throw from the University of the East. The work kept her on her feet for hours. She would later tell me that being a tindera was tiring & was maybe partly responsible for her varicose veins.

In 1968, she graduated with a BS Elementary Education degree from the University of the East at the late age of 26. She said that was the course she took because she intended to go back to San Miguel to teach. That plan changed because she got accepted to teach at Don Bosco Makati.

Before she began teaching there, she met a guy during a bus ride. That guy introduced her to Armando Domingo, a chemical engineering graduate from Feati University, who she eventually married. She gave birth to twins—-that's me & my brother Ayedee Ace—first. She then had Gemmy and gave birth to Hernan Ameer.

Our mother was a full-time housewife until I was about to study kindergarten at Maryknoll and Ayedee was going to enter prep in the Ateneo.

While enrolling me in Maryknoll, she found out that the school was looking for teachers. She applied and got accepted. Our mommy Amy went back to teaching at 37 years old. Maryknoll became my mom's second home, a community she would be part of until she was 60.

Before getting married, our mother didn't know how to cook. She said she learned quickly because of the need. Her specialty was embutido. She took care of our family while juggling teaching load and also tutoring students after school. She taught Araling Panlipunan and Pilipino and in subsequent years, Religion and Reading.

What I remember about our mom during our growing up years — she liked buying prawn crackers & other chiciria for our baon. She also bought cases of softdrinks—bought directly from the Coca Cola delivery truck—for our baon. She never spanked us. She had us learn guitar and piano and swimming. She ran the household in a quiet and efficient way. She did the pamamalengke herself & was very good in haggling in the market. And she sewed clothes for me and my siblings. Our play clothes, school uniforms, panlakad, even my prom dress and Gemmy's prom dress. She also sewed bed sheets and curtains. Our mom was a talented dressmaker.

She liked going to Divisoria to buy tela. When I was high school, I accompanied her to her Divisoria trips. We took two jeepney rides to get there. One from Project 8 to Morayta. Another jeep from Morayta to Divisoria.

Our mom was very hardworking. She continued to tutor kids after school. At different points, she tried businesses—fruit shakes sold to neighbors in the summer, and cloth draw-string bags and silkscreen printed t-shirts.

Our high school and college years were financially challenging times. Our dad did not have a steady source of income. At certain points, our mom was the sole breadwinner.

She was able to put us through school through her teacher's salary and sidelines. When she could walk to her destination, she would do so instead of taking the jeep or the tricycle. She applied for every kind of loan and financial assistance available: SSS, Credit Union and whatnot.

It was through her hard work and abilities that she was able to produce a writer, a doctor, an architect and a basketball coach-entrepreneur.

We are not demonstrative or affectionate as a family. Our mother preferred to show her love for me and my siblings through actions. We knew she prayed for us and our success. She supported our choices and our endeavors. She gave up a financially-lucrative chance to teach in the US so she could continue to be with me and my siblings. She also had a chance to pursue a masters’ degree but she gave that up, too, so she could give all her time to her family.

Apart from sewing and reading books and later on, watching Koreanovelas, our mom had no other leisurely pursuits. She never took vacations. Wala siyang naging luho. She hardly shopped for herself. She wasn't mabarkada.

Perhaps her only "libangan"—if I could call it such—was rearranging our father’s books in our home library. Our mom's life revolved around us, her children and teaching at Maryknoll/Miriam.

Our Mom's quirks? She called the male tinderos "pogi" (even if they were not). She used the term "buribot" for someone who was feeling moody and masungit. She had nicknames for me and my siblings. Mine was Geng. Gemmy's was Donya Koala. Ayedee's was Ogot's & Buboy's was simply "Boy." She never learned to use the ATM and relied on her kids to withdraw money for her.

Our mom had a very pragmatic view of life. She dished out insights like "Kung mamamatay ka bukas, bakit hindi pa ngayon?" "Ang lungkot walang pahinga, ang takot gabi lang." "Kung ang pera nagpapagaling, walang mayamang namamatay."  "Work hard forever. Pray as if you’d die tomorrow."

Even when our mother was afflicted with dementia and Parkinson's Disease, her wit still shone through. She had an explanation why the singer of “Pusong Bato” (her favorite song) could not eat. Our mom said, “Kasi wala siyang ulam.”

The past seven years have been difficult for me and my siblings, seeing our mother get weaker and fight her condition each day.

The next days, months, even years, won't be easy either. In spite of knowing that our mom is no longer struggling and has found her peace.

My mom used the term "it takes you a lifetime" to call my attention whenever I was too slow or too preoccupied to respond to what she wanted me to do.

That term "it takes a lifetime" comes to mind again but holds deeper meaning. Ma, Mommy, it's going to take us more than a lifetime to repay your love and generosity. We thank you and we love you. Thank you for your love.