Less Kuskos More Haplos

I was channel surfing one Wednesday, waiting for the elimination round of American Idol to begin at Star World, when I chanced upon the commercial of Vaseline shampoo. It was about how two lovely kids attempted to make their mother's day very special: what more than making her literally a queen, replete with a throne, a sash, and a crown. And the closing lines to their jingle was something like "Ikaw, nanay, you're the best. Salamat sa 'yo Nanay..."

Mothers as queens: what a very apt way of depicting what and how mothers are really supposed to be in our lives. And just like queens, they are not exactly the "rulers" of our homes, but our fathers...otherwise considered as the "kings". Just like queens, nevertheless, they are of high importance in the "royalty chain of command"...for without the Queen, the King is but a lonesome ruler of a land without anyone to stand by him.

In some homes, however, like mine, mothers are both the queen and the king. This is either due to her being a single parent (because the father left the family; or the mother decided it's best to leave the father out of the equation), or because the fathers are in far-off countries trying to earn a living for the whole family--something more lucrative or event decent compared to salaries earned in the homefront. In either case, the mothers juggle their time, energy, patience, wisdom, and love just to keep her family together. Sometimes--or in most cases, at all times--she becomes a glorified maid, yaya, alalay, nurse, cook, laundrywoman, plantsadora, teacher, friend and villain rolled into one frail but strong-willed person equipped with a huge heart, big enough to accommodate a continent of perky (or pesky) little todds.

Motherhood is such an underrated "profession" (or more aptly, "vocation"). Ask one million and one girls and you would be lucky if you got at least ten percent who would say that they'd want to become a mother. Mostly, they'd dream of becoming doctors, or lawyers, or ballerinas...hell, even Barbie or Wonder Woman; but never a mother.

This Mothers' Day, let us, for one minute, stop being such big asses, sit her down and tell her we love her to tears. Our mothers are God's gift to us. All the yells, slaps, raised eyebrows, and nagging all have some good ole' fashion reason...and they are, more often than not, for our own good.

And at this point, I'd like a shout-out, a holler, to my mother (who prolly wouldn't even get the chance to read this, being the non-techy person that she is!), Rosario Gomez Redulla, more popularly known as Charry (or Sayong, to the much older folks). She isn't a softy...she never was. She was a really tough cookie, brought up by an even tougher, to a point a harridan, mother (my Lola Justina--the classic Castillian Doña that sporadically shouts out "Sin Verguenza" or "Hijo de puta" to her "minions"). My mom is a no-nonesense woman: she knows what she wants, she endeavors to achieve it, she will not stop at anything, and will stand by it no matter what. She likewise knows what is best for the whole family, like a true queen looking over her domain.

She taught me the value of discipline and responsibility...that everything must be a careful product of our hardwork and enterprise. She taught us and nurtured in us the value of faith in God. She also taught us that dignity, the truth, and a good name are the few treasures that nobody can put a price on, nor can be taken away from us unless we passively let them.

She filled and nurtured not just our minds and spirits, but also our stomachs. My mother makes the best adobo, kare-kare, sinigang, and arroz valenciana. No feast will be complete without my mother's (and Aunt Lita's) dishes, which were all tediously prepared a day or two ahead. And although she (and all three of us in the family) has a really serious case of diabetes, she never fails to satisfy anyone who has a sweet tooth. Her leche flans, crema de fruta (which I have almost exactly copied now), and her recent addition, the cassava pudding, are instant hits. She would usually separate a small helping of the nearly-cooked dessert and would cook it in another container--without the sugar, so she could also enjoy the fruits of her labor. So when both batches are cooked, it would be such a delight to be eating every single piece, down to the last caramelized portions that are stuck to the edges of the pan or tray. Yum.

She is a looker. Of course, where else would she get her good looks but from me??? Hehehehe. And, yes, she nags, too. But had she kept quiet and not told us off for every offense when we were still young, we prolly wouldn't have become more discerning and wise.

Mommy, I wouldn't have been who I am right now if it wasn't for you. You have honed me into becoming the strong, creative, ambitious, and God-fearing man that I turned out to be today. Salamat po. You are my queen, God's gift to me.

I love you Mommy. I just thought I'd let you know that. Happy Mothers' Day po.