A Tribute for My Mother

 My mother began working at 17 when grandfather died unexpectedly in his early 40s, leaving behind my grandmother and seven children. My lola does not work and due to hard times, my mother was unable to finish school. She took on the responsibility of earning a living to help support the entire family.

She started as a salesclerk in a famous department store in Cubao and, through hard work, rose to become a Section Head. I spent much of my childhood in that place too.

I grew up knowing that my mother is the working mom type.  At the same time, she managed our household with stay-in helpers in our early years. But as time passed, it became harder to find reliable help. By my teenage years, when we moved to the rural countryside, my mother and I managed the household ourselves. 

 In the early 1990s, she took early retirement and, together with my father, focused on growing their small-scale, home-based business making nursery and children’s bags.

 During summer vacations, I would accompany her to Divisoria to buy raw materials. Without a private vehicle, we endured long, hot commutes, carrying heavy loads. We used to have lunch at Jollibee with an extra treat of chocolate sundae and that will be the highlight of my hot, dusty day.

 I have never seen my mother back down from any challenge life threw at her. With limited means, she worked tirelessly to give her children a better life and not endure the same hardships she went through due to limited opportunities. She ensured we attended private schools and completed our college education at reputable universities. Beyond our family, she also played an active role in our small community.

 Even after retiring completely from managing the home-based business, she remained active—both physically and mentally. She continued to be present in our lives.

 Now, in her mid-70s, she still handles her banking, manages household expenses, and even embraces technology. She used Facebook Marketplace to declutter the house, sold items she no longer needed. She enjoys tending to her garden and has taken in orphaned cats, all despite having had knee surgery several years ago.

 I have watched my mother live through and overcome frustrations and sadness with unwavering strength—just like her favorite basketball team’s motto: "Never say die."

 Looking back on her life and the many stories I have had the privilege of knowing as the eldest child, I know that my sisters and I grew into the strong, resilient women we are today because of her. Strength is in our DNA, passed down through our mother, the life she has lived, the battles she won and showed us how.

 Thank you, Ma. I know this isn’t nearly enough.

 I choose to honor you now, while you’re here to see it—not someday, when my words can only drift into emptiness.

 Thank you for all that you have sacrificed and done for us, Ma.