MEMORIES OF MUM
Honours his Mum with touching and funny memories
e all must remember our mothers in one way or another, palanggas, but especially in May. Why? Because on the second Sunday of May, we all celebrate Mother’s Day! I do have tons of memories about my Mum—it would take pages to write them all down. So, let me just choose some of my best experiences with my darling mother.
Mum was my older sister, my girlfriend and sweetheart for life, and my defence lawyer who always stood by me whenever my Dad would rage over my disobeying him.
A hilarious memory of my Mum was when I was with her, her personal nurse, and my sister Pearlie in France. We were touring the Hall of Mirrors at the Palace of Versailles when I cracked a joke [which I do not remember anymore] about the place. My mother laughed so hard she felt the urgent need to rush to the loo, which was a little farther than she expected. Naturellement, she left a path of pee as she dashed to her destination.
Well, when we continued our tour, another group of tourists arrived and the guide was shocked to see what my Mum left behind on the floor. I heard the guide say in French, “My God! Who brought a dog here? No dogs are allowed here!” Seeing how furious the tourist guide was, my Mum asked me, “What is he saying?” When I translated it for her, she was so embarrassed and asked us to get out of there fast! We did, but then she scolded me, “Don’t you dare make me laugh again like that!”
Once at the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo, my Mum decided to buy lots of Mikimoto pearls at the shop on the ground floor. While they brought out trays of different sizes of pearls for her to choose from, she looked at me and told me in Ilonggo, “Why are there so many Japanese in the shop?” I reminded her, “Mother we are in Tokyo, you know.” “Oh yes! I was too engrossed over these pearls!” she said. I had to dash out of the shop laughing, dahlings.
Yet again, on one of our many visits to London’s Kensington Street, she would find the most expensive shops in England. As we passed a cashmere sweater shop she said, “Let’s go in. I want to get a pair of cashmere tops and a long-sleeved sweater. As usual the sale ladies were all over her, showing their latest arrivals. They also kept offering her tea and cucumber sandwiches, which she did not say “no” to. After choosing three sets of tops and sweaters, she asked for the bill. When she saw the price of almost £2,000 she asked me, “How much is that in dollars?” When I answered, she exclaimed, “Dios mio!” I told her she was not obligated to buy it all. But she admonished me saying: “Oh no! After all, they were so well-mannered and even offered me tea and sandwiches. Pay them! This is my money, not yours!” Ouch!
When in London, she loved going to the races on Sundays. We had our own box and 42 racehorses. Whenever our horse would be in a race, she would bring out her rosary and start praying facing the wall. Now and then she would ask us if our horse was leading. This would go on until the race was over and when it was, she’d face us, still praying the rosary. “Did our horse win?” she would ask. If it did, she’d tell the runner in our box, “Go and cash this ticket right away, and buy yourselves some merienda.” She’d then sit on a chair in our box, exhausted from that nerve-wracking experience.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mum! I love you dearly. One day we will be together again at that better world you are in. But please don’t rush it—not yet, my love.