Count your blessings

Red and green shimmer everywhere, all over the world. No way is Christmas forgotten as we relive the birth of a barangay boy born from the purest woman dressed in blue and a carpenter husband whose main transport was a donkey. That was 2,000 years in the past. Just half an hour ago, buses and jeepneys zigzagged around my car, and not even an ambulance could speed along EDSA for an ailing patient who probably died on the way to the hospital, unable to relive the original Christmas story: “The glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you. You will find a baby wrapped in cloth and lying in a manger.” What great joy!

I hate myself for thinking this as I write, but… sometimes Christmas is a hassle. Every family member has a different plan and we end up not knowing where to spend the holidays. One child wants to go to Boracay, the other to Tagaytay, the other to Morong and we plan to meet before New Year’s Eve. Aside from that number one reason, gift-giving is a source of stress. How many dearest inaanaks should I give from the usual hundreds? How can I keep within my budget? Am I enduring the days more than enjoying the bargains? Some friends go to visit the in-laws; I’m going to see them after keeping away for a year. But all those negatives must be negated because, after all, it’s Christmas, and blessed is the family that can eat, drink and maintain its dignity.

I should include here, Blessed are the healthy in a family compound. “Aye gracias a Dios” we say as we compare doctors’ assessments and blood pressures due to anxiety or five pounds more on a 5’4” frame from carbohydrates, both bad and good. Potatoes, corn and sugar. But for people with serious weight problems, all carbs are problematic. And would you believe some carbs can cause Alzheimer’s, which is a concern with a grandmother, an uncle and a dad plagued with forgetfulness? It is a blessing, though, because my father remains gracious, kind and gentle unlike other challenging cases. So what’s the cause of this frightful ailment? There’s a protein in the brain called amyloid (writes science writer Gary Taubes in What if it’s all been a big fat lie?) that accumulates into amyloid plaque. The hypothesis is, these plaques either kill neurons or disturb their functions, allowing dementia and Alzheimer’s to manifest. Amyloid is cleared by an enzyme called insulin. Amyloid and insulin compete for the use of that degrading enzyme. It’s like two strangers in a washroom waiting for a cubicle — only one of them can get to use it first. The higher your insulin levels, the more insulin-degrading enzyme goes to clear amyloid. The amyloid is left to accumulate in the brain and binds together into plaque. Again, this is science and it’s scary if it happens in our older days — when we’re wise and learned, so to speak.

This happy season shouldn’t be one filled with doubts, forgetfulness and distrust. It’s supposed to be the perfect season, primarily to connect with the family, whether cut off due to desertion, possessed of a generation gap, a partner that isn’t acceptable, or a broken marriage. All these are reasons enough to rebuild what we neglected. I last saw my parents three weeks ago. Hours are consumed like seconds on the watch, leaving me with the phrase, “I should have...” Christmas is the time to shift our focus from computers to sentimentality and fortify the source of close relations like moms and dads who stand by us in good and bad times.

But wait. Did you know the family evolved along six different stages? First as a “horde living in promiscuity,” with no sexual prohibition and no real family structure. Next was a stage in which a group of brothers was married to a group of sisters and brother-sister mating was permitted. In the third stage, group marriage was practiced, but brothers and sisters were not allowed to mate. The fourth stage, which supposedly evolved during barbarism, was characterized by a loosely paired male and female who still lived with other people. Then came the husband-dominant family, in which the husband could have more than one wife simultaneously. Finally, the state of civilization as we know it was distinguished by the monogamous family, with just one wife and one husband who were relatively equal in status. The family became the primary source of socialization, the basic unit of society, a group of people affiliated by consanguinity — blood relations. But other societies may understand “family” via other concepts than genetics. What I’m pointing out is that the family system has survived, perhaps because family is our place of refuge and confidence and renewed values.

My family is comparatively small compared to my husband’s but more temperamental and vocal in words and actions. Peping’s family members are quieter and more patient. As I’m discussing a family’s size, when I married Peping, family meant a bigger package of nephews and nieces whose names I couldn’t remember. Finally, after a year, I did! After numerous kisses followed by “Whose child is this?” I was a new addition to this huge assembly, acceptable and accepted, with the sign that I would be godmother to Rafael Cojuangco Lopa, my first godchild. It was frightening at first, carrying him in my arms at Our Lady of Sorrows Church. Now he has salt and pepper hair and children I hardly know. As families have grown bigger, the farther they become from their ancestors.

See, it’s time to reconnect on Dec. 25. To say thank you even to kumpares and kumadres because, when a Filipino is in need, there is always the extended family — close friends, like make-believe brothers and sisters, willing to give us a helping hand. Economic unity? Yes, but more importantly, to the Pinoy’s loyal and trustworthy connections. 

Isn’t it wonderful that our children, like Jesus Christ, were once swathed in blankets upon birth to find comfort and affection in our arms? We even feed them like the Blessed Mary did. Children have become our links to home — history — traditions. Life is good from the base of the tree to the end of its branches. It is what we make of it as its leaves and stems that we become what we are.

Let me quote this, lastly, on family: “Just like a lampin, which is a Tagalog word that means cloth diaper, it is a source of comfort and embodies the affection shared among Filipino families. It binds the many strands of our lives and links us wherever we are: at home, at work, in school, at play… everywhere.” Lampin is like a family. We’re like children, forever heading home to hearth and warmth.