Born on February 20, 1940, my Mom was a little girl when World War ll broke out. She doesn't remember much of the war. Only that they were made to jump into fox holes during air raids, and that her parents made her bite bullets, so that they would not be hit by one. It was a strange belief, I know, but when one has missiles ringing overhead, one would clutch at the strangest things.
The 5th child in a brood of 9, my mom was named after her own mother, Patricia. Growing up, my Lola Patricia would tell me that whilst she was conceiving with my Mom, she fell in love with this little Chinese boy who she would see in the Chinese store whenever she would buy Vermicelli noodles, that she could not stop eating. This little boy's hair was cropped close to his scalp and it looked like a funny oval shaped flat hat -- just at the top of his head. The rest of his head was bald. My Lola said that she grew so fond of this little boy, and the vermicelli noodles that they could only buy at the Chinese store.
When Lola finally gave birth to my Mom, the top part of her scalp was greyish-blackish in color, just like the little Chinese boy's hair. She had a white streak right in the middle of her hair (like Cruella de Vil in 101 Dalmatians), and she could not part her hair. It was permanently coiffed, as though it was newly teased -- much like vermicelli noodles. I remember my Mom telling me that when she was growing up, she was constantly teased by her classmates about her "uban" (white hair) that when she was old enough to dye her hair, she did, so the teasing would stop.
My Mother's father, Lolo Timoteo, was a good looking man. Although I do not remember him at all, my Mom used to tell me stories about Lolo and how his family shunned him after he married my Lola, whose family was poor.
Lolo's family was rich. His parents spoke Spanish and a maid would fan them while they were eating, but because he married beneath him, he was disinherited. To fend for his growing family, Lolo moved to Negros to work. He became the Manager of a sugar plant in Victorias. They lived in a big-enough house, had a car and nannies to take care of his children. And then, war broke out. The sugar refinery was shut down and my Lolo's family starved. I do not remember stories about how they survived the war, but when the ashes and debris cleared, there was no job for my Lolo in Victorias, so they moved to Manila.
My Mom, while in college, was invited by film scouts to audition for the movies. I remember seeing this beautiful head shot of my Mom. Although it was in sepia, she looked so glamorous. Her dreams of becoming a movie star was cut short when, at the age of 19, she met my father who was 12 years her senior. Because he was older, had a stable job and pursued her relentlessly, my Mother got pregnant at 19 and gave birth to me, when she was just 20 years old.
My Mom never finished college, but what she lacked in education, she made up by reading voraciously. She learned how to cook, how to bake, how to sew clothes, how to cross stitch -- skills that made her a better wife and mother. And when my Dad retired from government and set up his own business, my Mom became his business partner, running the operations of his business for him.
Maybe because there was only 20 years between us, my Mom became my best friend. She taught me how to dress -- that it was hip to wear a silk blouse over jeans and that a white top with a pair of jeans never went out of style. My first set of jewelry were pearls that I lent to my aunt (my mother's sister), the day she died.
When I was in my 20's, my mother started praying for my husband-to-be. Although I was engaged at 22, my Mom never stopped praying for the right man for me. She prayed a novena for me and my sister as she wanted us to marry men that would love and respect us. She was so pleased when we did marry good men.
Lean was my mother's first grandson. When she was dying, she shared with me that her that one of her regrets would be that she will not be able to see her grand son grow up.
When Mommy found out in late 1995 that she had lung cancer, she went through the different stages of dying; denial, anger, etc. But the six months that she had left on this earth were months of grace. She came to terms with dying, forgave my Father for all his inequities, called all her friends who she had wronged and asked for their forgiveness.
Maybe one reason why Noel and I relocated to Davao when we did, was so that I could take care of my Mom in her final months. When the cancer was creeping up to her brain, she could not sleep. She would pace endlessly and would talk incoherently.
One night, she was walking up and down the upstairs part of our house, dragging her IV stand behind her and mumbling prayers. It was a frantic sort of walking...as if she was chasing after a desperate thought. When she finally sat down to rest, and I sat beside her, she turned to me and said that I was a good girl for taking care of her. I then told her that she raised us well, that we considered it a privilege that we could take care of her. She held my face in her hands and said that "You are a very good daughter, Ella." The following day, when I asked her whether she remembers pacing the night before, she answered in the negative.
When she could still talk and walk, my Mom would stare out her window wistfully and say that she loved Europe. And then she told me "I am going back to Europe. Sama ka?"
Fear of dying, fear of the unknown, was one thing that my Mom faced, when told that she only had six (6) months to live. So I began praying to God that He allows one his angels to show him/herself to her so that she can be assured of heaven. God did better than that. He did not send His angels, He sent His Son. The last time we brought my Mom home from the hospital, while Noel was carrying her upstairs to her bedroom, she began to cry. Concerned, I asked my Mom whether Noel was carrying her incorrectly, or whether she was in pain. She answered -- "I am crying kasi I see Jesus laughing. He's smiling and laughing with me and He is so beautiful".
One of Mom's dying wish was for her family (My Dad and all her kids and grandkids) to travel together. I want to fulfill this last wish of hers. I am dreaming, desperately wanting, our family to travel together to Singapore (my Mom's choice country in Asia), or even just to Hong Kong. I am sure that that would put a smile on my Mom's face to see us all together on the plane, in some destination outside the Philippines.
Four days before my Mom died, she said her last words. She said: ""I love You, Ella."
I miss my Mom and I will never ever stop loving her.
I love you, Mommy.
