Generations and Gratitude

This is a picture of three generations of women on my maternal side – Lola Puring, Mommy, and little baby me.  This is the only picture I have of this phenomenon in my life because unfortunately, Lola died when I was 2 years old. I don’t know if I can have a repeat of this with my own child because I don’t have one and don’t know if I ever will. Haha! 😀

Three generations, three decades ago

I have no memories of my lola (it means “grandmother” in Tagalog) but I do know her through my mom’s stories. Her family was so poor that she was only able to reach fourth grade and then had to drop out of school. She had to peddle herbal medicines for a living and travelled far and wide on foot. I don’t know how she managed to feed three children and her own mother on what must have been such paltry earnings, but she somehow did, and she was even able to send my mother to college, so that my mom became the first ever person in their clan to have a college degree.

As for my mother, let me reiterate what I once wrote about her four years ago:

My mom turned 65 last July 26, and my birthday gift to her was a set of dentures. You see, recently I had noticed that she no longer smiled for the camera. When I asked her why, she said it was because she had missing teeth. So even though it was a tad expensive, I knew it was the perfect gift. Besides, it’s a small price to pay for her smile, especially since she paid a much higher price for my life.

I love my mom, which I demonstrated as a kid when I gave her a Valentine’s Day card that said “I love you 100x a day!” But she loves me 101x a day. Or maybe 1000x. So much so that back when I didn’t understand, I felt smothered.

My dad was the authoritarian in our household and she usually followed whatever he said except when it came to her children’s education. My dad wanted to send us to public schools because they were a lot cheaper, but she fought for us to study in the best school in town – Ateneo, of course.

Since our tuition took up so much of their income, we were left with little for other luxuries which I envied from my classmates, things like toys and branded clothes and cars and computers and tutors. I resented that. Especially when we fell into harder times in high school after my dad’s Ampao business went bankrupt and we had to make do with only my mother’s income.

I resented that we couldn’t even afford to buy a brand new set of fatigues for my CAT uniform and I had to make do with stuff that she borrowed from an officemate’s kid. Or that she asked me to take the entrance tests for UP Diliman and Ateneo de Manila University and I passed both, but it didn’t matter – I couldn’t go to College there because we couldn’t afford the expensive board and lodging in Manila even if I did get a tuition scholarship.

I resented her telling me that I needed to get a GSIS scholarship if I wanted to study in Ateneo de Zamboanga, otherwise I would have to study in a government school. There were only 25 slots for that scholarship in the entire Philippines. It wasn’t an easy task that she had put on my shoulders. To my astonishment, I actually made it. I guess she believed in me more than I did.

Then when I started getting my scholarship stipends and she asked for them, I resented her for it, too. Why couldn’t I keep it? It’s my money! I thought rebelliously. One time, I actually went against her and my dad’s wishes and used one semester’s allowance to buy my first cellphone. I am not going to get deprived, I thought then. What a selfish b*tch I was, I think now.

I resented my mom for depriving me of a lot of things, but I didn’t think about how much more deprived she was. She was born to a couple of medicinal herb vendors who earned their living by traveling on foot all the time. And so she was left to the care of her grandmother who couldn’t read or write. But her parents knew how important education was and she went to school even though she had to walk there in her bare feet. She wore her clothes for more than one day and washed them at the spring once a week. She had only porridge with salt for her meals and would get so happy on the rare occasion that they could afford some ginamus (fish paste) or dried fish.

Then she experienced a lot of accidents before she even turned a teen. She ran across an insane dog who bit her when she touched him. (This did not stop her from owning and loving pet dogs for the rest of my life.) She stepped on a snake while walking in a procession, and the irate snake bit her on the leg. While studying by lamplight one night, the lamp slid off the chair and onto her lap, burning her thigh. Her mother got scared of what would happen to her next time and sent her to a nun’s dormitory for high school.

She wanted to become a nurse so that she could go abroad to work, but her mother would have none of it and demanded that she take up Civil Engineering. My mother, whose worst subject is Math. She flunked almost all her Math subjects but took summer classes for them so that she was still able to graduate on time and pass the board exam to get her mother’s coveted “Engineer” title.

Love was elusive for her (I guess this is hereditary), and she only met my father when she was 37. He was 10 years younger than her. They got married after 3 months, and she had me at 38. Then my brother at close to 40. That was when her life must have taken a turn for the worse. It wasn’t easy to raise us. She has had a lot to resent over the past years, so much more than me. It’s time for her to smile now. And I’ve given her one reason to at least be able to do that literally. I just need to work on the rest.

I am so grateful for all the effort that my generations before me went through to have a much better life, the fruits of which I am now currently enjoying. Even though I’m not rich or anything, my life is good, really. I can’t imagine living a life not being able to enjoy doing things I do now, basic things like reading and writing, for example. Sometimes I complain so much, not realizing how much I have.

That blog about my mom was originally posted here. 
And if you’re interested about my mom’s inspiring love story, you can read all about it on this link.

—;<@
This post is part of the A to Z Challenge, a blog hop that goes through the alphabet for all the days of April except Sundays. I have decided to go with the theme of Alliterations.