While putting my son to sleep, he reminded me about his great-grandmother’s birthday. My grandmother, whom we fondly call “Mamang,” turns 86 this month and my son wants to make sure everything is set for her birthday celebration. Earlier today, he asked me who were expected to come to my Mamang’s birthday. He is always concerned about her. Donny has always been fond of Mamang even as a young child. He often finds time to sit with her, asks how she’s doing and brings her pasalubong whenever he can. His affection towards my grandmother warms my heart. Whenever I notice Donny going out of his way to do things for Mamang, I am reminded to also take time to give my grandmother some attention, something she always welcomes with great joy — after all, she’s showered me with her love and attention all my life.
Time flies so fast. Seems only yesterday when I acted like my Mamang’s shadow — never leaving her side. She was my primary caregiver while growing up. She brought me everywhere and I remember always being dolled up so beautifully every time we would take a trip to Divisoria for shopping or Quiapo and Baclaran for church. Before leaving the house, she would make sure that I had lipstick wiped on my forehead to ward off evil spirits.
We often visited her relatives and friends in her home province in Cuenca, Batangas. I used to detest going from house to house paying my respects to the elders because they often spat saliva on my tummy or forehead to make sure I didn’t get usog or they didn’t cast a spell on me. I often sat listening to their conversations in deep Tagalog and many times, I marveled at the old folks’ visions about the generations to come.
Every night, my Mamang made it a point to put me, my brother Melvin, and cousin Rich to sleep by telling us stories of the different eras while making us pik-pik. She has lived through the Spanish, Japanese, and American times so while sharing her experiences in those different periods, she would sometimes be brought to tears and then some laughter. She told us about superstitions, legends, and tales both funny and scary. I am certain that my love for learning is a result of her commitment to continually share her life, her stories, and her time with us her alagas.
Everytime I look at my grandmother, I can’t help but give thanks to God. She is vibrant as ever, so healthy, strong and still able to marvel us with her stories. She refuses to sulk in the presence of wrinkles but laughs them off as part of old age. She makes it a point to go to the parlor every week to keep herself looking young and refreshed. She busies herself with her daily walks around our neighborhood, tending our garden and feeding the birds that get attracted to her treats. She gets excited attending church, bible study groups, and dance sessions with other seniors at the Quezon City Memorial Park. She brings the newspaper to our dining table daily as part of her morning routine.
I can see why my Mamang is full of life — she has not lost her sense of purpose and occupies herself with things that make her productive. Though she feels sad at times thinking of her parents and siblings who have gone ahead of her or not seeing people dearest to her often enough, she looks forward to many years of being with her children, grandchildren and their children. She still hopes to travel to places she has not been to and conquer new shopping destinations for little trinkets that she can give away to her apos.
From having lived through many years of trials, joys, and heartaches, Mamang’s joys are simple . If you ask me, I know that is the secret to her long life. May you have a truly happy birthday, Mamang, and we look forward to many more years with you.
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E-mail author at mommymaricel@gmail.com.