Mother’s Day in the
Specifically, I am honouring my mother, this time. She is no other than Dolores P. Urmanita, Mamang as we call her. This is something which I haven’t done before – honour her in writing and acknowledge her role in my life. She, with all her faults and idiosyncracies, deserves to be recognized for her tenacity and grit, intelligence and wisdom, love and compassion, fierce loyalty and craziness about excellence in everything she does.
Even before I heard anything about obsessive-compulsive personality, I saw the signs and symptoms in her. I experienced it first-hand and somehow, it has shaped and influenced who I am now. But no regrets there, as I attribute my passion for excellence and doing things right to this kind up upbringing. I will forever be grateful that I was given Mamang as my mother. Someone lesser and I would not have achieved what I have now and someone more than her would have destroyed or overwhelmed me. Talking about God’s perfect wisdom…
Her childhood was not easy, but she persisted to get to where she is now – a school owner/operator who holds a Ph.D. in Education Management. She sent herself to school, washing clothes for her teachers and toiling in the fields of the
There were 13 children in the family and she was like in the middle. She was a smart pupil – always on top of her class. When it was time to go to high school, my old-fashioned grandmother (bless her soul) refused to let her study. My mother, the ever spirited and strong-willed person that she is, staged her silent protest by hiding in a big tub/barrel used to store palay grains under their stairs for four days! Of course, when she could not stand her hunger pains any longer, she emerged from her self-imposed solitary confinement cum silent protest cum hunger strike whatever. I tell you, even before I learned about these things in UP (University of the
The children helped in household chores as well as farm chores, something that was normal in those days. Even when she was in a far-away town for her high school studies (yes, she prevailed and was the first girl in the family to really pursue her studies), she would work in the farm of other people by removing corn from the cob during weekends. She would then sell her share of corn in town. Of course, she would walk all the way there (we are talking of miles and miles here). Since every household used to have Bantay (guard/domestic dog) in those days, she would ask one of her younger sisters to go with her to shoo away the dogs while they walked because Mamang would be carrying the sack of corn on top of her head (that was not an easy balancing act to do, is it?).
She finished college and went on to send three younger sisters to school plus a few nephews, nieces and other distant relatives. While she was working full time, she pursued her Masteral and Doctoral studies – alongside us going to school as well. She was and still is a workaholic. Never, as in, never did I see her lounging around the house doing nothing. She was always acting with purpose. She always had a reason to do something or get out of the house. And when she arrives, she always had something with her for the family – a loaf of bread, a basket of vegetables or a bar of soap or a bottle of cooking oil – whatever!
I learned a lot of things in life from my mother. Even with what she has achieved so far, she never forgets that she once was dirt poor (not that she is rich now, but at least, she has gone a bit farther than the barrio lass that she was). She showed me how it is to aim for excellence in everything I do. I learned from her how it is to prioritize my education and never to stop learning, to live the way I would want my kids to live.
It was her goal to send all her children to college (which she did – along with my father, of course). Then, she helped other less fortunate students finish school as well by taking them in as free boarders in exchange for some domestic chores. She knows how it is to be deprived of the opportunity to go to school and so now, she refuses to package her school as an expensive private school, thereby losing money or not making enough to sustain it (which is a bone of contention in the family, but that is a different story on its own).
My mother is a dedicated educator. She exacts excellence from her staff and faculty – even those students she taught as practice teachers before her retirement. Her students remember not her strictness but how good she was as a teacher, how motherly, how supportive.
But even as a career woman, she managed to take care of us with the help of an endless string of maids. She refused to give us instant noodles for breakfast even if it was more convenient for her to do so, as she was always thinking of nutrients for our growing bodies. Softdrinks and junk foods were a big no-no. And I thought she was downright selfish and a killjoy before (out of ignorance, of course).
I can go on forever singing my mom’s praise. But it was not always like this. I only came to fully understand her when I became a mother, too. Let’s just say, the connection between us was enhanced when I became a Momma as well. I wish I spent more time admiring her and being more grateful for everything that she has done for us and all the other people that came into her life. That’s why now, I express my deepest gratitude to her by being the best Momma for my kids – the way she was with us her children.
To my Mamang, I love you so much and I am mighty proud I am yours.
