Nanay

Atop the stairs of a rickety old house from the days of bayanihan, there sits a grand old lady, with silver and gold hair quietly rocking in her equally rickety old chair -- the chair that has been her throne for so long, and for four generations. Her face lined with experience and time, but her smile as new as the dawn. She rocks quietly, taking in everything around her. i sometimes wonder what goes through her mind, as she stares at the pavement down below, listening to her grandchildren play with the dogs and chickens and cats loitering in the street. She's 91 years old. She is the mother to seven children, with one boy passing away in childhood. She is the grandmother to seven, and a great grandmother to two babies. She has raised her children with her husband to the best of her ability, inculcating in them the same values her mother has taught her, never materialistic, never envious, never boastful nor wanting attention to herself. She has taught her grandchildren these same values, and they only wish they could be a fraction of what she is.

She has lived her life with dignity, shared everything that she had, seldom thinking about her own needs. She didn't ask for a grand life, but she was given a life full of blessings. She didn't ask for lands, but her name is respected far and wide. In her old weakened state, people would come to her, trying to serve her in their own little way, the way that she has given a part of herself to their mothers, sons, daughters, grandparents... People would come up to those rickety old steps to ask for her blessing, giving her the respect she has no doubt deserved from decades of being compassionate and giving.

When we were kids, we used to spend summers in Marinduque, going back to Manila as dark as pots and pans. Up until highschool we would be vacationing at my dad's hometown, just spending the day lazing around and going to the beach.

During college, my grandfather passed away, and i think that was the last time i went. It was after some years that i returned to the province, almost forgetting what it was like. I then made it a point to return at least once a year. I started appreciating my nanay. I think she is the most beautiful woman God had the wisdom to put on this earth. And i love her to bits.

Last year, I went for a vacation with friends for the Holy Week, and my friends lined up to ask her blessings, all trudging up those steps to hold her hand and bring it to their foreheads. True to form, my nanay gave her blessings to each and one of the girls...and reserved the hugs and kisses for the boys!!! (with matching sniffing) The old flirt!!!! hahaha, but jerry loved it. She's like that...old and sweet and regal. She would sit on her old rocking chair, and i would sit on a bench that is almost as old beside her. I will take her hand and give her a massage. That old, freckled, weathered skin has always had me captivated. It is a contradiction of roughness and delicateness. I'd run my hands over it, each time as if feeling it for the first time. If she knew i was going home, she wouldn't sleep until i'm safe and sound, every now and then asking everyone if i had arrived already. Even in her semi-senile state, she would ask and she would wait, even if she doesn't know why. Waiting for her children to come, waiting for a kiss on the forehead and on the hand, and then finally smiling, because her sons and daughters have remembered her.

She is the most beautiful woman i have ever met. and i wish i could be like her...even just a bit. And so it hurts to see her having a hard to time to walk. It hurts to see her not remembering the people that she has loved all her life. It hurts to see her in pain.

But she will always be the most beautiful woman to me.