Apple pie, cheesesteak, tuyo, atbp.

PHILADELPHIA — The Season just past was like a rare necklace for our family — precious moments strung together and held by a firm clasp. The clasp is our mother Sonia, who turns 77 on Jan. 9.

After years of planning, we finally pulled it off. Schedules aligned, and at the start of 2015, I even won a Philippine Airlines Business Class ticket to New York City (less than two hours away from Philadelphia and New Jersey, where my sister Geraldine lives). Now, wasn’t America calling?

So, we were all together in the post-Victorian era-style home of my sister Geraldine, a noted psychiatrist who lives in Jersey but practices in Philly. Under one roof, 11 adults and eight dogs co-existed in chaotic revelry for over a week. When it came to toilet schedules, we perfected the art of give and take. When it came to the kitchen, the family never lacked for cooks.

“This is what I’ve always been dreaming of,” my mother said. Of her four daughters, two (Valerie and myself) live in the Philippines, one in the US West Coast and another in the East Coast. With children and careers and various paths to tread, we had postponed for five years the reunion we had always hoped for after our dad Frank’s passing in 2010, the last time we were all together.

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After three nights in New York, one at the strategically located Hilton Midtown Manhattan (a Christmas present from popular Fil-Am tour operator Joebert Opulencia) and two at The Peninsula New York, the stylish address in NYC, my husband Ed, son Chino and I took the Greyhound to New Jersey to meet up with the rest of the family.

We were welcomed by a lunch at Fogo de Chao, a Brazilian churrascaria in Philly where you are served all cuts of the best steak in town as long as your glass’ coaster is green-side up. When you want to take a rest, you turn it red-side up. A salad bar, that is so complete it could be the meal itself, is the siding.

A memorable breakfast was at Sabrina’s Cafe at Main Street of New Jersey, which had fluffy pancakes, stuffed Challah French Toast and Lox and Onion Omelette, which is stuffed with smoked salmon.

Definitely a must when in Philly is to have cheesesteak. We had ours at Chickie’s & Pete’s in South Philly, where every stool and seat is taken whenever the Philadelphia Eagles are playing. We capped our meal with Italian doughnuts, which are stuffed with provolone cheese and dipped in vanilla sauce.

If we weren’t eating out, we were cooking at home — with a definitive Pinoy mix of fried rice, spicy tuyo (Ginger Estayo Paras’ is the best, brought all the way from the Philippines) and the all-American Spam. My son Chino was the designated barista — the verdict was he makes the best coffee he could set up his own “Cafechino” in Manila.

On Christmas Eve, Chino inherited my assignment of baked salmon as I went to Mass, and came up with a pretty good version you could almost pass off as from Conti’s in the Philippines. Ed whipped up his Caesar salad, whose tangy, creamy dressing only he knows the recipe of. Valerie baked her famous Food for the Gods. Geraldine bought ham from the Filipino store and apple pie from a local pastry shop. Apple pie is a Christmas tradition handed down from my Grandma Mary to my mother and to us, and every bite of it, to me, “tastes” like Christmas because it evokes all the happy memories of Christmases past.

I’ve always found dishwashing therapeutic, and when the dishwasher was already full or not full at all — I would retreat to the sink and find fulfillment (yes, fulfillment) in transforming greasy plates into squeaky-clean ones.

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In order to avoid carrying excess luggage in our own hips and bellies, we signed up for a workout at the malls — combining retail therapy and a cardio workout at Macy’s, Nordstrom and Jersey’s Cherry Hill Mall (in Jersey, anything that touches the skin is tax-free, so we felt justified shopping!). Another justification for punishing the plastic was that starting 6 a.m. on Dec. 26, America slashed most of the prices on the labels of most goods for the great after-Christmas sale.

We also attempted to burn the calories by visiting the Longwood Gardens, where an hour’s walk around the grounds is not sufficient to take in all the colors, shapes and sizes of one of God’s masterpieces — the flower. This season, the flower du jour was the poinsettia, with petals a foot long and a foot wide.

Another highlight of our trip was the eye-pampering we got at the Barnes Foundation art museum, which has a sizable collection of paintings by the great Impressionists Renoir, Cezanne, Van Gogh, Matisse and Picasso.

The pieces, which include 181 Renoirs, 69 Cezannes and 59 Matisses, came from the collection of Dr. and Mrs. Charles Barnes. Barnes, who had no children, was one of the first über wealthy black men of America and he invested in paintings. After his wife passed away, their collection went to a university before it was acquired by the city of Philadelphia. The museum, a museum within a garden or a garden within a museum, is small enough for one to appreciate each and every painting.

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My sister Geraldine hosted a New Year’s Eve dinner for family and friends, including Senen Suganob, Steven Suganob, Dr. Josephine Pobre-So, Ita Villarosa, Dr. Emma Solon, Patrice O’Brien of Collingswood, New Jersey and Vicki Hollett and Jay Silber of Philadelphia. After which, we all went to the Benjamin Franklin Bridge to watch the fireworks heralding the New Year. According to Geraldine, Philadelphia’s fireworks display is the best in the US. Bundled up in the cold Philadelphia night under the fireworks-lit sky, we thanked God for the gift of life that enables us to treasure family and friends; and the  ability to work hard and save up for in order to be able to string together precious moments like these and collect them for the years ahead.

Life isn’t perfect, but it is true that it is made up of many precious moments. String them together every chance you get.

(You may e-mail me at [email protected].)