I must confess that I am a mother's boy - always have been and always will be. I grew up under the wings of a woman who protected me at all cost, nurtured me no matter what the circumstance and cared for me like no other human being could. I love my nanay. She is, most probably, the only woman that I can truly say that I love. Yes, I have important women in my life but nothing beats the big mama.
I remember the time when I used to promise my mother that I was gonna buy her a wheel chair when she gets old. I was 6 years old then. She used to laugh it off every time I made that promise, but she'd quickly make a follow up and tell me to aim higher and buy her a house instead of a wheel chair. yes she's a natural, my nanay.
She got married at an early age, 16. So young. Back then it was normal for people to get married before they reach their 20th birthday. My mother eloped with my father, a 21 year old guy from Manila who was a son of an Adventist sewing machine mechanic. When they came back to face their parents they were already wearing rings. There was a formal wedding of course, as Catholic tradition would impose. She bore 6 children, with me being the youngest. Six children.
They had to live with my father's parents as times were hard for both of them {funny, that nothing really ever changes}.
I saw nanay's picture when she was young. I was staying at my parents house in the country last summer and I was rummaging through old photos and by chance I saw one of her black and white pictures. It was taken when she was 16 or 17. She was very young, and she was very beautiful. I could not believe my eyes that the woman in the picture wearing skimpy shorts and a white t shirt with matching 60's sunglasses while doing a poster girl pose for some guy mag was the same woman who carried me for nine months. I did notice that her hair changed very little {I keep praying to God that I have my mother's "hair" genes}. I looked at her photo, and it was evident that she was happy. She was sunbathing by the river 2 miles away from their home in the country; her hair, sprawled lazily over her shoulders and her legs were nicely curved. And her smile had that impish quality in it. She was a stunner, my mother. I asked her about the picture during merienda time and she just smiled and poured me my coke. That must have been a beautiful day, I thought.
My mother, although years advancing still looks beautiful to me. Her hands, her voice, her god awesome hair, her face. And sometimes, I could still see that faint glimpse of impishness when she laughs or smiles. But her most beautiful asset is her courage and her pride. I remember one time when I was back in highschool she went home with my sister from church too early from the usual, all angry and boiling. I learned from my sister that she walked out in the middle of a sermon of one priest. Let's just say that she did not like the sermon and she left the congregation and the minister something to think about. I reckon that the priest avoided my mother in many church occasions after that incident. feisty,my nanay.
I remember last summer after the two of us went back to manila, the two of us were eating in a fast food joint. I was munching away my amazing aloha burger and fries like there was no tomorrow while she was eating her fried chicken. Then she said to me in Filipino "Alam mo, ok lang sa akin na chocoleyt ka, uso naman yan ngayon eh" {You know, I don't mind you being chocolate, it's the "in" thing now anyways.}. I almost choked on my fries and asked her what a chocolate was. Then she said "Chocoleyt, alam mo na yun" {Chocolate, you know what I mean}. I didn't know where the hell she got her terminology but I understood. And it was heartfelt. She continued eating her chicken while I tried to wash away the grease with my soda. Then she said while I was in mid gulp - "Nakailang boyfriend ka na? Sa palagay mo, cashier chocoleyt din ba?" {So how many boyfriends have you had already? Do you think that guy in the cash register is also chocolate?}. Let's just say that it was a good thing I'm used to gag reflex.
She may have her flaws but she is perfection to me. She may have made some mistakes {some I know of and some I do not}, but she has done what she thought was best. She maybe 66, but she still kicks a lotta ass. I love my nanay. And I am proud to say that I am a nanay's boy... always have been... always will be.
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