Sun.Star Baguio

Forever young

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SHE is descending a grand staircase filled with an assortment of flowers: red roses, white carnations and varieties of lilies, all adorning her path. She is wearing her fabulous white and gold gown and gold shoes, everything sparkling, matching her bright aura. Her hair is prepped the way she always wanted it, her face made up by a profession­al – for hours on end to make it appear like there’s no makeup at all. (We used to laugh out loud at the irony of having to combine lots of different shades and colors in a makeup palette just to achieve that “natural” look.)

As she glides down ever so smoothly, the orchestra is playing sweet instrument­al music while everyone seems to hold his breath, marvelling at her beauty and grandeur. “She” by Charles Aznavour, in orchestra, to be specific. How she is enjoying every minute of it…with all her grace, her unwavering poise – the posture befitting a queen. When Kayla was little, she used to think of her as Queen Clarisse Renaldi of the fictional Genovia in “The Princess Diaries” (portrayed by the equally regal Julie Andrews).

On one side of the vast estate lays the banquet, a feast for royalties. All the sumptuous meals possible – but most particular­ly fresh garden salad, sayote tops, roasted chicken breast, veggies pizza, burong talangka, and fruits – lots and lots of fruits of all variety — as these were her absolute favourites. The table settings are pristine, the best possible you can ever imagine – with shades of old rose, lilac and soft-toned yellow. The garden is filled with the same blooms embellishi­ng the staircase from which she descended. Thousands of butterflie­s are fluttering all around, and exotic birds of every variety are chirping softly, likewise gleeful with the idyllic atmosphere. On the center of the serene garden is a fountain springing forth crystal clear waters and bubbles that seem to be floating everywhere. A few meters from the fountain stands her cake, with candles alit like dozens of fireflies from afar. She has all the energy to blow them out now…that can be hundreds ( or thousands!) of candles we are talking about and she won’t ever run out of breath.

She had always been particular with beauty – always appreciati­ve of everything beautiful, and flawless.

And she is in the middle of it all – the belle of the grand ball – her eyes twinkling with pure bliss, a dazzling smile on her gentle face. She now has no pain, she knows no suffering. She no longer worries, and has no more fears. Everything about her and around her is absolutely perfect.

Happy birthday in heaven, Ma. You are still so terribly missed. (serendipit­y.couch@gmail.com)

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