Receiving My Wang Gungwu Prize and Rekindling My Career Dreams

Prof. Rey Ileto congratulating me after handing over my Wang Gungwu Medal and Prize for
Best Dissertation in the Social Sciences and Humanities, National University of Singapore

Last Sunday, I received an award.  Like a slap on the face it woke me up.  I've been so immersed in my family life that I've put my career plans on the back burner and my passion for all things academic slid from hot, to lukewarm, to cold in the last few months. I recently obtained my Doctorate in Southeast Asian Studies from the National University of Singapore. It is a fact I am not conscious of most days when I am at home tending to my babies. But Sunday was quite a blessed day. I had a heartwarming afternoon tea with people who inspire me and I felt the dying embers of my career dreams being fanned back to life. I was reminded that while I am a mother, I am also many other things besides and I must nurture not just my children, but my own dreams as well.

It took me a long time to finish writing my dissertation.  Beautiful things happened to distract me: my engagement to Oliver; wedding planning; the actual wedding; pregnancy; childbirth; and child rearing. I kept trying to write my thesis in bits and pieces but couldn't quite bring everything together. Then, my mentor and thesis supervisor, renowned historian Prof. Rey Ileto intervened. He made me focus on my work, summoning me to Singapore in January, 2010 for a writing trip so I could be closely supervised. He made me sit and write, and he commented on and edited each section I completed, as I wrote the next section. It was intense. At first I found myself crying - separation from my baby Narra was difficult. But after a while, I became immersed in the world of my thesis and words began to flow and the bits and pieces I've written over the years were coming together.  I flew back to Manila fired up to write, but the moment I got home, caring for Narra distracted me from completing my task again. I flew to Singapore once more in late February, for another intensive writing trip. It was very clear to me what I wanted to say, and my mind was running faster than my fingers could type. I slept little for 10 days, to do the writing marathon of my life, with Prof. Rey coaching me straight to the finish line.  I submitted my thesis in early March and came home having accomplished my goal to submit all my requirements for my degree. I returned to Singapore for a successful thesis defense in July.  I was done!  Degree conferred!

I thought that was the happy end of my PhD story. But a year later, I received great news: my work received the Wang Gungwu Prize for Best Thesis in the Social Sciences and Humanities; the award came with a gold medal and a cash prize. This great news came at a crucial time when I needed it most: I was then pregnant and unemployed, and looking for inspiration. I was supposed to receive the award at the Commencement Exercises in Singapore in July 2011 - I already asked a Singapore-based friend, Basti, to buy my toga, and I was imagining myself marching up the stage in my doctoral garb, receiving my medal. I was a bit too pregnant for comfort though, and the trip for my graduation did not materialize. I gave birth a few weeks later, and was so busy with childbirth, recovery, and child rearing, that I was unable to arrange for the pick-up of my medal and check. Fortunately, Prof. Rey had a trip to Manila and he kindly agreed to deliver the "goodies".

Our small group having Shangri-la Makati's afternoon tea sets,

The day Prof. Rey arrived, my ever supportive mother and sister organized an intimate get-together to celebrate the occasion (Thanks Mom, thanks sis!) Since we were picking up Prof. Ileto at the airport at 1:30 pm, we decided on having afternoon tea right after. Our small group of 10 occupied a quiet corner of Shangri-la Makati's Lobby Lounge.  In attendance were people who played important roles in my thesis-writing journey.  They are also my sources of inspiration for getting my career back on track.

Standing: Oliver and Guijo, Walter Briones and Narra, me, Prof. Ileto, Rep. Tonchi Tinio, Art Hilado.
Seated: Dr. Trina Pineda Tinio, Sonia Serranilla Briones, and my sis Marion Briones.

Of course there's Prof. Rey Ileto my mentor whose investment in my training is as great as his hopes for my success. I feel the weight of expectation in his congratulatory handshake and I do not want to let him down. Then there's Dr. Trina Tinio, my contemporary at NUS who was also supervised by Prof. Ileto. She is my role model for balancing the professional and personal: she is now Senior Vice President at FEU, while being a super mom to Marko, and supportive congressman's wife to boot! Her husband Rep. Tonchi Tinio inspires Oliver and I to think beyond our own family's concerns, to always try to make a difference, to take an active role in trying to fix this country. And then there's Ninong Art Hilado, Oliver's travel buddy, and our principal sponsor at our wedding. Art is the consummate traveler, having been all over the world many times over! Name it, Zimbabwe, Vanuatu, Burkina Faso, even Antartica!...if it's worth seeing, he's probably been there.  Nowadays my children have become my world, and Art reminds me that the world is my home.  Art is also a true theater enthusiast, and has seen Moro-Moro plays. For this reason, he read my thesis! (the first person I know who voluntary read my long thesis for leisure - everyone else did so as part of their job description).

My ever-supportive parents (and lovely flowers from the Tinios).

And then there's my parents Walter and Sonia Briones. They are my role models for great parenting. They are encouraging without being pushy; supportive without being indulgent; principled without being rigid. They become proud and disappointed in healthy doses, just enough to keep my striving for excellence a most enjoyable and rewarding process.  And my sister Marion, with her graduate training in literature, history, and peace studies - she was someone to talk theory with! And her collection of books provided me with an instant library of relevant stuff I needed. She may not have pursued a doctorate, but I sometimes feel like I am walking in her footsteps, traveling down her "road not taken" whenever I am leafing through her books. 

Oliver with Guijo, me with Narra.

To round up the group that afternoon, there's our family of 4: Oliver, me, Narra and Guijo, my daily source of meaning. Oliver has been greatly supportive of my academic life, caring for our baby so I can go off on my writing trips; and moving from our house in Batangas (close to his work place) to our newly renovated house in Manila (close to my work place). He did this at great expense and effort so I could pursue my passion. I intend to repay his loving sacrifice by getting my career back on track.

Narra, my "mini-me"

Narra is like a sponge now, absorbing everything. She is also like the unblinking eye of a camera, she captures images and commits them to memory even if she has yet to learn the words for what she sees. I want her to witness more days like these, celebratory, triumphant!

Since that inspiring afternoon tea a week ago I've been hatching a plan in my head. I am envisioning my next career moves, and I am gaining more clarity on what I want to do next so I could best put my academic training to good use. I have to thank Wang Gungwu for allowing me the great honor of being a recipient of his award.  The NUS website describes the Wang Gungwu award as one given in recognition of research achievements of graduate students.  What would anyone donate such a huge sum of money to recognize new researchers? Why invest in them at all? Why was I given prize money for the work I did? I could only hazard an answer: because like newborn babies, young scholars need nurturance. Thank you Professor Wang. We've never met, but you play a pivotal role in my life. Your encouragement is giving me the confidence and inspiration I need to do more research and produce new knowledge. Your award has re-ignited my passion for scholarship and helped rekindle my career dreams.

Our Son's Baptism and The Precious Gift from his Dying Uncle Owen

Yesterday, our son Guillermo Jose was baptized and became a Roman Catholic. As holy water was poured over him, his parents and godparents surrounded him, and laid hands on him, covering him in a mantle of faith, hope, and love. I felt the energy of the holy moment course through my veins. I was excited, enthused, elated!! At last! We've wanted this baptism to take place earlier, but it had to be postponed twice on account of the deaths of Oliver's brother followed by his aunt. With the delay came a greater desire to have our son receive the sacrament. After attending wakes and funerals the family needed a break from tearful goodbyes, a baptism was such a welcome change, it felt like a "reset button", a chance to start fresh. 

The baptism was held at the lower chapel of Christ the King in Greenmeadows, the very same church where just weeks earlier, we held the wake and final mass for Oliver's brother Owen.  My thoughts went to Owen as we, the parents and godparents - and all adults present - were asked to renew our vows and profess our faith.  When Owen was fighting cancer, he turned to his faith for strength. He started inviting the family to join him to go to church to attend mass. He proudly professed his faith, in his emails, text messages, and the speeches he gave on bearing witness to God's providence. In his final hours, he held on to his rosary for dear life. In baptism, candles represent our being enlightened by Christ and we are encouraged to keep the flame of faith alive.  Owen's faith was a raging fire towards the end of his life. He is my daughter Narra's godfather, and though their lifetimes overlapped only ever so briefly, he already played a role in her Christian formation.  She was learning to speak, and learning to pray as he was fighting cancer, and one of the first things she learned to pray for, was his recovery. She would utter each night before going to bed: "Jesus, Mama Mary, Bless ninong Owen na gumaling siya" (that he gets better), her pudgy baby hands in prayer pose, with an earnest expression on her face.  Said by a toddler barely two years in age, I imagine a prayer to hold a different kind of power in its purity.

Guijo in his Christening clothes. A vision of precious purity and innocence.

Purity. It is one of the aims of baptism to wash away original sin. This is one reason I dressed Guijo in white even if it is no longer required by the church.  I was looking at him in his Christening clothes, and I was thinking, what an absolute angel!  And that thought, of an angel, triggered another memory of Owen.

When Guijo was born, Owen was in bad shape and in great pain, but he took the time to write this welcome message for Guijo:

Subject: Welcome home, Guijo!

Nikki & Oliver, now is best time for me to send my congratulatory greetings
since I feel much better in mind & body. It was a dreadful 4 days from
Tuesday. Then things turned around friday evening just after Guijo's birth,
before midnight. I fell asleep on the bed--a first in 3 mos. This morning,
I did my stretching exercises, ate half a hash brown for breakfast, coffee,
prayed my rosary b4 taking another nap. Joey Benedicto and wife came for a
surprise visit and joined the family for noon mass. Wow. Guijo's birth was
my lifeline. His guardian angel and mine are twins joined at the hip so to
speak, so we both have 2 each, 1 more than everyone else. I beam
w/happiness for you both and Narra, knowing that 4 makes you a much happier
family than 3. The future holds a lot of promise. Hang-on because the ride
is about to begin for your family of 4. Welcome home, Guijo!

This message made me want to cry, for many reasons. It pained me to read how he had been reduced to such a state that eating half a hash brown was already something worth reporting. Owen was the consummate gourmand, he pursued good food with great energy and passion. He took us to many buffets - my first trip to Spirals when it had just opened at Hotel Sofitel was thanks to Owen. The last buffet we went to was at a Japanese Restaurant at Diamond Hotel, it was a yakiniku-grill-all you can concept and we had a small function room just for the family, and Owen ordered away, authoritatively outlining all the things he wanted - I remember him ordering the largest scallops I've ever seen. He already had cancer then, and was undergoing treatment, but he was sturdy as his appetite was strong. 

A photo with four generations: My Lolo Vicente De Lima and Lola Norma De Lima; My dad Walter;
My sister Marion; and I with Narra and Guijo (carried by yaya Ruby).
Christening Reception at Sambo Kojin, Greenhills.

Yakiniku buffet - my last kind of buffet with Owen - is the first kind we have with Guijo. Our Christening reception was held at Sambo Kojin Japanese-Korean restaurant. We didn't have any of the usual party fare: no invitations, balloons and decor, nor cake and giveaways. There was only one item on the program - to eat, together. I was happy to see my families there, both the one I was born into and grew up with; and the one I married into and mourned recent deaths with. All are Guijo's kin, celebrating his arrival. And then there are our friends, people who are permanent fixtures in our lives, also welcoming him into our social circles.  He is welcomed with a shower of gifts - material, monetary, and spiritual... everyone wishes him well.

Of all the gifts Guijo received that day, one stood out as the biggest in size, the most expensive in monetary value, and the grandest and most memorable in the execution of its delivery: it was a gift from my sister-in-law Ging, Owen's wife and widow, and Guijo's ninang. She casually told me that she had the gift for Guijo transfered to our van directly. She said it so casually, with no indication of how special it is. We only found out when we got home and saw this huge box being brought to our living room.

Oliver unwrapping the gift handpicked by his dying brother for his newborn son Guijo.

The gift is a sleek MacLaren stroller, grey in color with orange accent details (colors Oliver absolutely loves). It is a generous gift on its own. But what makes it even more special is the fact that Owen himself chose it, ordered it online, had it shipped from the US before he died. There's a delivery sticker somewhere on the box, it had an order date - he got it way before Guijo was born. I thought the email welcoming Guijo was the one concrete thing from Owen that I could pass down to Guijo.  But apparently, that wasn't the last. Even with him already gone, Guijo gets to receive a gift from his uncle.   Buying that stroller was a task initiated by Owen - getting it to Guijo was thanks to Ging - husband and wife still working in tandem to continue the tradition of thoughtful gift-giving their family is known for.  Thank you dearest Ging, my son's beloved ninang, for that very generous gift! For how you perfectly executed its delivery! For what it stands for! 

"4 makes you a much happier family than 3" said Owen. And last night, as I began writing about Guijo's baptism, the little boy regaled us with a new set of antics we haven't seen before. He started to smile at us for real. Prolonged, responsive, appreciative smiles - not the sporadic, accidental kind that comes and goes and lasts for brief seconds. Narra was ecstatic at her newfound talent in making her brother smile. Oliver and I were equally elated. Yes Owen, our ride has begun. And we will hang on, not only to each other, but also to precious memories, of you. And most importantly, our Christian family will hang on to our faith, as you have, when the ride gets bumpy.  

Related Post:
2 Deaths in 40 Days: Mourning the Loss of Family
http://nikki-mama.blogspot.com/2011/10/2-deaths-in-40-days-mourning-loss-of.html

A Filipino Baptismal Celebration

http://nikki-mama.blogspot.com/2011/09/filipino-baptismal-celebration.html

On Siblings and Being Raised To Love Each Other

Today, October 19th, marks Guijo's second month since he was born. It's a day of joyful hope. Yesterday, October 18th, we laid to rest Guijo's grand aunt, Tita Boots, sending her off on her journey into the after life, with a shower of flowers on her grave. It was a day of mourning. Between yesterday and today, I find myself thinking of the future, I look at my children and I have a speech forming in my head. I want to tell them: "One day, papa and I won't be around and you two will be the only family you've got.  Grow up leaning on each other, inspiring each other, and always loving each other well". 

The moment I found out I was pregnant with our second child, I had new hopes for Narra. I wanted her to be as good an ate to her brother, as my own sister Marion is to me.  Whenever my sis and I would fight when we were growing up, she'd always say how she was conditioned to give way to me, to protect me, and take care of me, from the moment I was born.  I was born prematurely at 7 months, and had to stay inside an incubator for 54 days. This image of me, so fragile and small, must have been imprinted in my sister's mind. I feel her protective instincts kick in when anyone tries to hurt me in any way. I remember her getting angry at people who crossed me, in grade school, in high school, all the way to graduate school, and even recently, when I had an issue at work, oh she was fuming mad at my colleagues, she was even more affected than I was. My sister is also very generous - whenever she'd go shopping for herself, she'd also buy for me. Shoes, clothes, bags, make-up, Ipod, plane ticket, theater tickets, Pilates class pass...name it, if she got herself one, in all likelihood, she got me one too (oh yes, I am very lucky).

I think this has to do with how my mom raised us: everything is shared. No one eats a chocolate bar or drinks a can of coke by herself.  Everything is partitioned so that each family member gets an equal share. When my sis was 5 years old, and I was 2, she received a small red box of Sun Maid Raisins. She wanted to eat it so badly, but I was sleeping so she couldn't share it with me. She kept taking a peek at me to see if I'd wake up. Growing impatient, she opened the box of raisins, sat next to me, and popped one into my partially opened mouth - I chewed on the raisin even while sleeping! So my sis happily got to eat her raisins while sharing it with me. This is how deeply internalized our family rule on sharing is, that even when no one is looking, and even if the intended recipient would neither feel the benefit of getting her share nor the deprivation in not getting it, my sister still felt compelled to honor the spirit of the rule.  

Another principle my family lived by was that of "maximum togetherness" (a coin phrased by my dad).  For instance, if we are at home, we wouldn't be locked up in our own rooms. Everyone would converge in one room and stay together. My sis and I each had our own rooms, but we would pull our mattress to another room, whether the master bedroom, or one of our rooms, so that we could sleep together. We must all eat together, all the time. Even a snack at an odd hour would attract other family members. When my sis became addicted with red-eye budget plane tickets, and bought them in abundance, one after the other, it meant many days of being brought to and from the airport at unholy hours. It also meant converging around the dining table for a pre-flight, or post-arrival snack. Even when there's a driver, or when taking a cab would be far more convenient, my dad and mom still bring my sister to and from the airport every time (this means every week), and if I'm around, I join in too.  On a normal day, we converge for meals at breakfast, morning merienda, lunch, afternoon merienda, and dinner. Growing up, we also used to pray a lot, noon Angelus, evening Angelus, then after dinner, we all kneel in front of the altar for our daily rosary.  Narra and Guijo are part of this "maximum togetherness" whenever Oliver is away on a business trip and we get to sleep in my parents' house. My old bedroom becomes the locus of activity when my kids are around. Everyone hangs out in the room - dad,  mom, and sis - they all come to my room to watch tv, to sleep, to pray!  Narra has been designated as the rosary distributor and collector before and after prayer, and she loves it.  And she is all too happy to sleep between her grandparents and Ninang Marion, allowing me to concentrate on caring for Guijo through the night. Packed like a can of sardines, we sleep side by side in one room, even if we live in a spacious home. Pinoy style upbringing, I say! Life is short, time is precious, "maximum togetherness" allows us to seize the opportunity to express our love for each other while we have the chance.

I want Narra and Guijo to grow up close. To think in terms of "we", instead of "me". I want to free my kids from the debilitating interpretive framework of sibling rivalry. My sis and I never felt the need to compete for our parent's attention, never. We were treated as a common unit, the sisters who got everything equally, and shared everything they received. I am in awe at my mother for how she did it, how she emphasized the importance of sharing - impressing it upon my dad, my sister and me. My dad supported my mom's efforts, but I think my mom is the source of this family ethos and my dad picked it up from her. My mom came from a family of 12 children, and everything was shared among them. My mom's relationship with her siblings is characterized by a lot of sharing and giving - no fighting or squabbles, no shouting at each other, just a lot of caring. According to legend, even a piece of hopia was sliced in 12 parts so everyone gets a taste.

I wanted Narra to learn to share with her brother even before he was born. We organized her bedroom and turned it into a nursery/playroom. I took out her old crib, and bouncer, her infant carrier, and blankets, her towels, bathing bed and tub, her old toys and books, we prepared them for Guijo and she repeatedly mentioned how she would share them with him. I already conditioned Narra to think in terms of "us four", instead of just "us three".  Her bathing companions became 4 rubber duckies: Papa Ducky, Mama Ducky, Ate Ducky, and baby ducky. Even her food was given to her in sets of 4. I would look for grapes of decreasing sizes - Papa grape, Mama grape, Ate grape and baby grape...and slice apples and oranges, and cheese and bread, all in the same manner.  It helped Narra internalize the new family configuration, and it also improved her appetite - she was more receptive to food if they came in the guise of a family of four.  She is now called "Ate" by everyone, all the time. It is her new identity and so far she owns up to it proudly. "Ate na ako" (I am an Ate now), she would say. It is an identity that hinges on the existence of Guijo. She cannot be an ate without him as her little brother. Today, Oct. 19, we celebrate not only Guijo's second month of existence, but also Narra's coming of age (at the tender age of 2!), of her becoming Ate Narra.

On the last night of the wake for his mother, my cousin Thunder muttered, "di ko alam ang gagawin, mag-isa lang ako" (I don't know what to do, I'm all alone). Of course he was surrounded by loved ones, his wife and kids, aunts and cousins...but I know his meaning.  He already lost his father, and now his mother...and he did not have a sibling. There is no one left of the nuclear family he was born into.

So I look at Narra and Guijo. They are hanging out, and seem to be getting accustomed to each other's presence. Guijo's eyes are just learning to focus, and he stares a lot at Narra - I think he is beginning to recognize her features, he is learning that she is his sister, I saw him reach for her to touch her face - and this got me so excited. I want to say to him: "One day Guijo, when you find yourself troubled, reach out to your sister for help, she's your Ate, she's got your back." And Narra too, often reaches for Guijo, grabbing his hand. "Hold onto your brother", I want to tell her... "he will be there to hold your hand when I am no longer around."

An Afternoon in Paco Park: Contemplations on Choosing a Final Resting Place

The Historical Marker at the entrance of Paco Park.

The old mortuary chapel, now a popular wedding venue.

A few weekends ago, Oliver and I left the kids at home and headed out for coffee. We needed to have a serious conversation about preparing for the future.  Oliver's brother Owen had just died, and his passing away forced opened a series of flood gates, and we drowned in questions to which we had no ready answers. We drove around Manila and stumbled upon Paco Park, an old Spanish-era cemetery built in the early 1800's. It was hauntingly beautiful.

The elevated promenade above the old cemetery niches.

That Sunday afternoon, there was a wedding going on in the park's little stone chapel, the garden was quite deserted, however, so we had the place to ourselves. We walked up centuries old stone steps to get to an elevated promenade which offered a panoramic view of the layers of niches neatly embedded in the cemetery's concentric walls. From inside the chapel, a choir was singing "Anima Christi", and the lyrics reduced us to silence. A wedding is such a hopeful ritual, sanctifying the union of strangers who are drunk with love, transforming them into a family. How peculiar to hold it in a place as sobering as a cemetery.  On some level, however, it is profoundly fitting to tie the knot in a place like this - after all, both marriage and death symbolize something permanent, final.

"Cadena Perpetua", my mother says of marriage - you are linked (or chained) to each other for eternity. That afternoon in Paco park made me think about marriage, family, and death - where will my resting place be when the call of death arrives?  Both Oliver and I would want to respect each other's wishes when it is our turn to confront the inevitable. This can only be done, however, if our wishes are known.  While taking care of arrangements for his brother's burial at Manila Memorial Park, Oliver considered buying memorial plans for us. The family just bought adjacent lots, and plans on building a mausoleum. Details like allocations, design lay-out, and even "positioning" are now being discussed... incredibly awkward topics that need to be addressed so construction could begin. 

The conversation we started that afternoon in Paco Park was revived again today, and became even more pressing.  Sadly, suddenly, shockingly, an aunt - Tita Boots - died two days ago of a heart attack, and Oliver, once again, had to go to Manila Memorial Park for burial arrangements. While there, he gave me a call, and we had one of the weirdest conversations ever - so morbid, it could only be carried out with humor.

"Babe", he said, "I'm buying 2 memorial plans for both of us". He sounds excited.  "I'm now an expert on caskets, there are nuances to picking one, what color, what finish, what kind of door - single or double, for half or full viewing", he chuckles as he explains. "I've scrutinized the burial packages available, I'm choosing for you, just go for the upgrade if you're not happy with it", I laugh at the word "upgrade"... and knowing his penchant for picking the good stuff, I asked him "can I get a downgrade instead and get a cash refund for the difference?" True enough, he confirms:  "hindi siya mura ha! (but it's not cheap ha!)... It's my Christmas gift na!" he laughs. "Yehey!"- I reply sarcastically, we both laugh.  

Haha. The hopeless romantic in me interprets his gesture in the most flattering light - he loves me so much, he'd want to lie next to me forever? I thought when we exchanged vows, we only promised 'til death do us part' and we're free to choose separate "accommodations" afterwards! We tried to keep the conversation light with humor. But I found myself teary-eyed.  I want to be buried with family, for sure, but how can I think of "family" without my dad, mom, and sis? 

I am still in denial about a certain truth I instinctively know, that marriage and childbirth are so life-changing they've changed what the word "family" means for me now.  Of course a word can hold multiple meanings, but one meaning would tend to be privileged over all others. What family means to me now, first and foremost, is Oliver, Narra and Guijo.  I love this new family we started, I am awash with gratitude for this precious, picture-perfect family God blessed me with. But something hurts, deep inside. For 3 decades I thought of family primarily in terms of that 4-person unit that made up our happy Briones home.  For the past 3 years, I mentally appended my new family to my old one, from a circle of 4, to 5 with Oliver, to 6 with the addition of Narra, to 7 with Guijo's arrival.  I deluded myself into thinking no transition was necessary from old family to new, that the two were seamlessly welded in a continuum.

The question on what I would choose as a final resting place however, sends my mind reeling with the painful truth that the two roads to eternity chosen by my two families diverge, and I could not travel on both roads without splitting myself in half.  Oliver is looking at coffins and plans for us to be buried at Manila Memorial Park. My mother bought a vault at the spanking new National Shrine of St. Therese Columbarium, a modern resting place for cremated remains of the departed. Four urns can be accommodated in each vault. I am welcome at either resting place. So Oliver asks, if something happens to me, what are my wishes? He will respect whatever I choose.

I know that before I got married, when Oliver's family came to my house for the pamamanhikan, it was a symbolic ritual, a transfer of rights - from my family to his - I was being taken into his family with my family's consent, because we asked for their blessing. What was being brokered was a lifetime of memories.  When I was "given away" by my dad at the end of the aisle on my wedding day, these were part of what he was giving away: the exclusive right to Christmases and other holidays and where they will be spent - and even where I will be laid to rest when God calls me back to Him. By virtue of marriage, I have an invitation to the Carsi Cruz plot in the cemetery. Will I say yes to the invitation?

At my wedding, being "given away" by my parents.

My mind goes back to my wedding day and how joyously I said "I do" to being bound to Oliver. I was bursting with happiness, in a spiritual way, to the core of my being. Walking down the aisle felt like walking into the light and seeing everything clearly because I followed my heart to commit to a future with him.  We got married on 08-08-08 because 8 means infinity,  symbolizing forever. 8 also looks like a chain, "cadena perpetua" - as my mother would say. I recall an unusual thing we did at our wedding  - I walked down the aisle to a song sung a capella by my best friend Tristan. The lyrics went:

Take and receive Oh Lord, my liberty

take all my will, my mind, my memory,

All things I hold, and all I own are thine,

thine was the gift to thee I all resign

Do thou direct, and govern all and sway

do what thou will command, and I obey

Only thy grace, thy love on me bestow,

these make me rich, all else will I forego

And as I replay the scene in my head, of me walking down the aisle, and how at that moment, I understood the meaning of this song at a much deeper level than ever before, it becomes clearer to me where I want to finally be laid to rest.

That afternoon in Paco Park, we were at a cemetery, and there was a wedding, and I remembered my own wedding, and how Oliver and I held each other in a tight embrace as soon as we were pronounced man and wife. It felt like coming home. While at Paco Park I had a mental picture of us, together for a very long time, in life...and in death. I saw an image of our children and grandchildren visiting our graves - we are side by side, their Papa and Mama, their Lolo and Lola, in this beautiful family mausoleum made of bricks. I know my place is by my husband's side. 

2 Deaths in 40 days: Mourning The Loss of Family

I am struck by the way events repeat themselves. The good and the bad come in discernible patterns, especially in my husband's family. Death and Life, occurring in batches.

In the early 1970's, the Socorro sisters Mama Rubi and Tita Boots gave birth to baby boys just months apart. For Mama Rubi it was her 5th child, Oliver. For Tita Boots, it was her first born, Thunder. Oliver had his own big brother, Owen who was ten years older, and he found another brother in his cousin Thunder.  They are very close, best friends. Fast forward 4 decades later, and the pattern of simultaneous pregnancy has been repeated twice since I joined the family just 3 years ago. 

Brothers Owen and Oliver became fathers just months apart...Owen welcomed his 4th child Mateo; Oliver, his first born Narra. Two years later, another repetition: Thunder welcomes his son Marco just a few months before Oliver welcomes his son Guijo.  There were plans to hold Marco and Guijo's baptism at the same time, and to have a joint celebration when Guijo turned one month old - but plans had to be postponed because of sad news.

Owen with Mateo, June 2009, around the time he
announced to the family that he had cancer.

The family lost Owen on September 5th, after his 2-year battle against lung cancer.  The family mourns his loss deeply, and hasn't recovered yet.  Today is the 40th day since he died and there was a dinner gathering tonight among family and friends in his honor.  Marco and Guijo's baptism was planned the weekend after Owen's 40th day - next week supposedly - but as events are wont to repeat themselves - plans had to be postponed again, because of more sad news. The worst repetition imaginable: another death in the family.

Happy times: Macau 2007.
L-R: My husband Oliver, My Mother-in-law Mama Rubi,
My Cousin-in-law Thunder, and his mother Tita Boots.

Last night, Tita Boots died, all of a sudden, without warning... too fast, too soon.  She had a heart attack, was brought to the hospital, and didn't make it through the night. Oliver rushed to the hospital to see Tita Boots being subjected to CPR - he arrived in time to hear difficult questions he'd been asked just weeks before: do not resuscitate? He called me to say he was going to the hospital to visit Tita Boots...his next text an hour later said we were losing her... then it was over, she was gone.  

And we're going to repeat all the rituals of mourning all over again - wake and funeral ... today is Owen's 40th day dinner ... and we will have another one in 40 days for Tita Boots. The prospect of grieving another loss weighs heavy in my heart... I physically feel the pain in my chest as my heart constricts - for my husband Oliver, for my cousin Thunder, for my sister-in-law Ging and her children, for my mother-in-law who had to bury a son, and now a sister.  

I am an in-law. I am the newcomer in the family, and among the adults, I know Owen and Tita Boots least. I feel like a stranger with few rights to mourn - after all, the shared memories I have with them is nothing compared to the storehouse of memories blood relatives have accumulated through the decades. And yet, I feel the deep, sharp pain of loss - the kind felt by real kin.  The day I exchanged vows with Oliver, they became my family, and the day I got pregnant, my relations with them became cemented for eternity... in my children, the blood lines of their family and mine are forever intertwined. And the day Owen died, I felt it in my gut - I lost the closest thing I ever had to a brother even before I had the chance to get to know him better, I mourned the loss of a possible future with him, of having him as Narra and Guijo's uncle, of having him as my "kuya", the big brother I never had - or almost had.

And then there's Tita Boots. I know little about the details of her life: like where she studied, what she did before she retired, her love life - the big details, I don't know these. But I will miss her a lot because she was there throughout my journey into motherhood - all the important events of my life in the last couple of years were celebrated with her. She came to my house for the "pamamanhikan" before I got married, she was there at the wedding, and when I got pregnant, she gave me maternity wear; when I gave birth both times, she was there at the hospital to welcome my babies to the family - and my last photo of her was taken just a month ago, when she visited us in our hospital room when Guijo was confined.  She was there at Narra's baptism, and I assumed she would be there at Guijo's...

Tita Boots at Oliver's Birthday Celebration, 2009.

Tita Boots at Narra's Christening Celebration, 2009.

My last photo of Tita Boots. She and Thunder visited our
hospital room when Guijo was confined at The Medical City.
September, 2011.

I stared at my Excel File with Guijo's baptism guest list, I stared at the entry that said "Tita Boots" - "confirmed"... and I couldn't bring myself to rectify the entry now that she died all of a sudden - I couldn't get around the pain of reducing the family head count - if only Owen and Tita Boots could be there, for the baptism, for all the birthdays to come. I now think of Guest Lists in a different way. They are not just a way of figuring out logistics: how many seats to reserve, and how much food to prepare. It is not just for the practicality of party planning for me now. After having to deal with 2 deaths in 40 days, I look at a Guest List as a celebration of life, a wonderful, beautiful enumeration of loved ones who are Here! Present! Alive! 

Oliver was inconsolable this morning and I had no words of comfort to offer. But I did have a way to reach into that part of him that sees the light in the midst of darkness. I have Narra and Guijo, and their precious innocence. These children, so full of promise, so full of vigor - offer a powerful antidote to the specter of death. They bring inspiration and hope, and intoxicating happiness, even in times of grief.  

Good bye Owen, good bye Tita Boots. Thank you for welcoming me, and my children to the family. See you at our family reunion in heaven someday. 

Ice Cream Night at Swensen's: Reflections on Giving Your Child the Cherry on Top of your Sundae

I was excited to hear the news that Swensen's recently opened in Manila (Ground Floor, South Wing, SM Mall of Asia). Yay! I lived in Singapore for 5 years and I visited Swensen's often for quick pick-me-ups when I was feeling blue. Last night, it was raining and I've been stuck in the house for 3 days after having my wisdom tooth pulled out, so I felt the need for ice cream! My husband kindly obliged, and Narra was quick to get dressed after dinner. Mall of Asia was a few minute's drive from home, so we were there in a flash.  When we got down from the car, Narra hopped and skipped all the way to Swensen's.  She was excited to see the picture standee of a giant bowl of ice cream at the entrance, as well as the pictures of ice cream creations mounted on the walls.

Swensen's Selection of Kid's Sundaes

What to choose? What to choose? Swensen's menu was a delightful feast for the eyes - fun and colorful - it made me feel giddy good.  The kid's section was particularly cheerful. I let Narra choose her own ice cream, she took a quick look at the kid's page and pointed resolutely at her chosen concoction. She's not one to agonize over a decision, this kid knows what she wants, fast!

Narra ordered "Mr. San's babies" (P115), composed of two mini scoops of ice cream with whipped cream and sprinkles, on a bed of bananas with strawberry syrup.  Narra told me she was the strawberry scoop, and her baby brother Guijo was the vanilla scoop, so this bowl really was "Mama Nikki's babies". 

When Narra's ice cream arrived and I took a look at it, I remembered my own favorite ice cream creation from the old Magnolia house along Aurora Boulevard back in the early 1980's.  I always ordered "Ernie and Bert" which had two scoops of ice cream, and an ice cream cone cut in half, the pointy half sat on one scoop and became Bert's hat, while the other half with the wide rim, sat on the other scoop, and became Ernie's hat. I miss that old Magnolia house... I miss being a kid! 

 

Narra fed herself and successfully finished her bowl of ice cream without any major mishaps. She didn't soil her clothes, or mess up the table with drippings, and she even managed without a bib! I am so proud! She did get an ice cream mustache and sticky fingers, but just a tiny bit so it took only a few swipes with a wet wipe.  And when her bowl was empty, she spied my sundae and asked me for a bite of my wafer... and the cherry on top!

When I gave Narra the cherry from my sundae, I had a moment. I remember an anecdote my sister often recounts to me, of how one time, when we were little, my dad was about to pop a cherry into his mouth after stating how long it's been since he last had one, and just as he was a millisecond away from savoring his prized fruit, I came along and said "daddy I want that cherry".  My sister caught the look on my dad's face as he handed me the cherry - and the re-enactment of his facial expression makes for the climax of the story.  I always thought that story was about my self-centeredness, and my sister's selflessness - she obviously wanted the cherry too, but was mature enough to let my dad have it - in contrast to me - oblivious little me, who just did what I wanted!  But now, I realize, that anecdote is about many things - not just about siblings and their different traits, but also about parents and their everyday generosity.  The moment I gave Narra my sundae cherry, I traveled thirty years back in time and saw things from my father's point of view as he gave his 4-year old Nikki his precious little cherry. I felt so much love - his love for me - my love for Narra - captured in a single, simple act of giving away the cherry on top of a sundae.

I always hear the Filipino phrase "isusubo na lang, ibibigay pa sa anak" in reference to a mother's selfless love for her offspring.  This, I feel, is one of the most important transformations required of a woman when she becomes a mother: to make the transition from self-centeredness to selflessness... from being the one who takes the cherry on top of the sundae, to being the one who gladly gives it away.  

I was quiet with my reflections on motherhood as Oliver sipped his Mocha and Narra wiped the table (she loves to clean up - an OC trait she gets from her father).  She has no idea how she's affected me so deeply with her innocent request for a simple little cherry.  I watched her wipe the table repeatedly, and I was reminded of myself, with my slate wiped clean.  I am no longer the center of my world - she is. And so is her brother. They are now my world, the center of my existence, and I have to re-visit my old dreams, and fashion new ones based on the new equation. To be de-centered is such an awesome experience: disorienting, humbling, but strangely rewarding.

The last time I visited Swensen's in Singapore I was still single. I'd go there for a self-indulgent "feel-good moment" on a sad day. I always ate the cherry on top to feel better.  This visit to Swensen's in Manila was very different - I'm a mother now, and no longer as self-indulgent, and I didn't need to eat the cherry on top to get my "feel-good moment"... I just had to see my daughter's face light up at the pure and simple joy brought by a beautiful bowl of ice cream, with a cherry on top.  

How Much It Cost To Give Birth: The Anatomy of Our Hospital Bill

How much does it cost to give birth at Makati Medical Center? There is no straightforward way to answer this question because it depends on the particular birthing situation of each individual, but I will attempt to try to give a detailed description of what my bill looked like to help other pregnant women out there who are looking for info. My total bill was 7-pages long, with a summary on the first page, and a detailed list of all the things I paid for. If I were to simplify the components of the bill, I'd say they could be divided into the following categories: 1) Delivery Room Charges; 2) Room & Board; 3) Nursery; 4) Pharmacy, Central Supplies and Lab Tests; and 5) Professional Fees.

Signing paperwork in the birthing room.    
Delivery Room Charges constitute a huge part of the hospital bill.

1) Delivery Room Charges: This includes the use of the birthing room, the cost of using equipment, and all the materials and supplies used.  For 2 hours, the birthing room costs P3,465, with an additional P462 for every succeeding hour.  I used the delivery room for 2 hours preparation and 2 hours recovery, and 4 hours for labor, for a total of 8 hours (which means I paid P2,772 on top of the P3,465). Every companion you bring in also has a charge of P578/person.  I know of people who were in labor for much longer, and brought in more companions - so the cost of using the birthing room depends on how cooperative your cervix is :-D In addition, if you decide to use an epidural, you pay for the anesthesia (I paid P2,800); Then there's the use of equipment, such as the fetal monitor (P950), Infusion Pump (P808), Suction and Warmer (P800), and a host of other things like Criticare (P4,000), OB-Pack (P2,385), Espocan (P2,055), Supplies (P3,950), Sterile Instruments Pouch (P1,557), and for a Spontaneous Vaginal Delivery there's a fee of (P3,750). The rest of the bill listed small items like booties, gowns, thermometers, gloves etc. My total delivery room charges reached P30,000. I imagine it would cost more for a C-section. I got the biggest and nicest birthing room, so maybe there are cheaper options.

2) Room & Board: There's a range of options for private rooms, from the Small Private Room in the old wing (P3,220), to the newly renovated rooms (P4,700 or P5,200 depending on amenities). Cheaper than the small private would be the ward and semi-private options, but if you want privacy, the small private room is the most affordable option.  Those who want better rooms can opt for the large private rooms, or suites. A 3-day stay in a small private room can cost 9,660 - 15,600 depending on the room you choose. Some women choose to stay only 2 days, but with babies waiting for their newborn screening test to be administered 48 hours after birth, a 3-day stay is recommended, especially if mothers want to breast feed round-the-clock.  My room and board bill was at P9,660.  

Nursery Room & Board (P1,500/day). If your baby needs to be in the ICU it will cost more (P4,900/day).

3) Nursery Fees: Room and Board for the baby costs P1,500/day, and a typical stay is 3 days or P4,500. Other Nursery-related expenses include: the nursery service fee (P2,500), transport incubator (P500), and since we had our baby boy circumcised, we paid extra for the use of the circumcision room (P1,000), and use of radiant warmer to help heal his circ faster (P1,000). There were other items in the bill, such as the vaccination (P250 for the BCG), use of a BP Monitor (P240). The total costs reached around P10,000.  Note: If your baby has an infection, or is suspected to have one, a stay in the Neonatal ICU may be in order, in which case the costs would be different. The daily rate in the NICU is P4,900/day, and if your baby has sepsis, a 7-day stay to run a full course of antibiotics is the usual protocol - this may mean an additional P35,000 to your total bill, on room and board alone, not including the cost of tests and meds.

4) Pharmacy, Central Supplies and Lab Tests: Pharmacy. For my 3-day stay I had to use a number of medicines, from the oxytocin used to speed up labor, to the pain killers and antibiotics which were given to me round the clock by the nurses.  In addition to the medicine I needed, there was the stuff for the baby such as Terramycin eye ointment (P750), Sterile water, Lactacyd baby bath wash etc. The total bill from the pharmacy: P6,245. Then there was the bill from Central Supplies: Everything I used, from cotton balls to the "tabo" (dipper), bed pads and alcohol, to latex gloves, as well as the things baby needed - which is part of a newborn starter kit (P1,941)...all these are sourced from central supplies and in my case, added up to a total of nearly P4,000.   And finally, baby's Lab Tests: We had a lab fee for blood typing (P529), Hearing Test to check baby's hearing (P550), Newborn screening test for some dangerous diseases (600),    All three combined (Pharmacy, Central Supplies and Lab Tests) cost around P12,000.

My total hospital bill for Delivery, Room and Board, Nursery Fees, and Pharmacy/Central Supplies/Tests reached nearly P65,000 pesos, excluding professional fees.

5) Professional Fees: In my case, I had to pay 4 professional fees, namely: First, my OB's fees for delivering my baby; Second, my Anesthesiologist's fees for the epidural; Third, my Pediatrician's fees; and finally, my OB's fees for my baby's circumcision. The combined total of all my professional fees cost more than the hospital bill I outlined above. Without getting into detail, I suspect that the professional fees I paid were rather on the high side, but I knew this beforehand since this is my second baby to be delivered by the same team - I was just very happy with my OB and Anesthesiologist because my experience with them was textbook perfect, with absolutely no complications, and I am also super happy with my pediatrician.  It is hard to benchmark prof fees because it will depend on the specifics of your situation and your baby's. One way to find out the range of fees charged by your doctor is to ask from someone who's worked with them before, or, ask the secretary who schedules their appointments and ultimately prepares their receipts.

I understand that Makati Med has birthing packages that pegs both Normal and C-section deliveries within a particular price range, these are published in an info sheet available at the Admissions office in the ground floor. Not all doctors in Makati Med do these packages. If you're keen on delivering in Makati Med and would want to keep within budget, look for a Makati Med practitioner that does the package. The room for the package is semi-private.  If however, you are keen on working with a particular doctor, and that doctor you choose does not do the hospital birthing package, be prepared to pay more. (If you need a ball park figure just so you know how to plan and prepare, I figure that setting aside P150,000 should be sufficient for a normal delivery, this would leave you with enough elbow room for a few extras - like circumcision if you're having a boy - or a safety fund for in case your baby has an infection and would need to stay longer in the hospital).   

So how much would it cost to give birth in Makati Med these days? After my very long, and detailed sharing of my experience, I'd still say: it depends. It depends on how fast your labor is, and whether you'd deliver normally or via C-section, and how expensive your Professional fees are, what kind of room you get, and whether your baby will require more expenses (either for an infection, or for an extra procedure like circumcision).

Related Posts:

On Our Baby's Circumcision: A Mother's Point Of View
http://nikki-mama.blogspot.com/2011/09/on-our-babys-circumcision-mothers-point.html

Enjoyable Delivery at Makati Medical Center
http://nikki-mama.blogspot.com/2011/09/enjoyable-delivery-at-makati-medical.html

On Spirits and Aswangs: Tambay sa Tabi Tabi

See www.anvilpublishing.com

When I was a little girl, my mother taught me my place in the Pinoy universe: I am a human being - but I must not mistake that as license to have dominion over sea and land - oh no! - we humans share the earth with a host of elemental and spiritual creatures who have as much right (or even more right) to be here.  My mother taught me the choreography of deference: take a submissive pose, crouch down a bit - head down - and audibly recite: "tabi po, tabi po" (please move aside, please move aside) every time I walk through a patch of grass, a garden path, or a wooded area. I must make it clear that I mean no disrespect and do not wish to accidentally hit (ma sagi) spirits living along the paths I pass through.

My mother also taught me to be mindful of that specific moment during the day when humankind's reign over the earth gives way to the reign of the spirits - this moment of transition can be "takip-silim" (when darkness covers the earth) or "agaw-dilim" (when the sky is being wrestled away from light and into the dark). I remember playing in the garden, watering plants, and practicing volleyball or gymnastics, until the sun begins to set - then, without fail, my mother would call me from inside the house with a sense of urgency, as though any second outside beyond the prescribed time frame, is a violation of an unspoken treaty between humankind and the spirit world. At 6 pm sharp, we would be gathered around the altar to pray the Angelus. It was my mother's way of protecting us with prayer, and she'd psychically cover us with a mantle of motherly protection to last us through the night.

I learned many other things: not to disturb a termite mound or ant hill to respect the "nuno sa punso" who lives there; not to point at anything when hiking in a forest - and to bite my pointing finger if I forget myself and happen to point at something; to make an offering of chicken blood from a white virgin hen when building any structure; to address a "territorial dispute" between humans and spirits by using incense, holy water, and salt as arsenal in staking my claim over a certain space. My mother equipped me with a set of skills not only for preventing conflict with spirits - but also for fighting malevolent spirits when a conflict has become unavoidable.

I sometimes resent my mother for planting fear in my overactive imagination. It made those moments when I had to live alone a rather scary experience. Of course when something fishy goes on, I am thankful for the extra skills my mother equipped me with, I am given a course of action to take even in the weirdest situations.  I always wondered whether I'd introduce my children to Pinoy spirits, and  how I'd do it in such a way that I don't spook them. I want to make sure my kids are in touch with their Pinoy roots, their language and culture, and the unique Pinoy world view on all things, including the spirit world...but I wanted it to be a healthy engagement.

So when I saw the book "Mga Tambay sa Tabi-Tabi: Creatures of Philippine Folklore" published by Anvil and illustrated by artists from INK (Ilustrador ng Kabataan), I was excited! My Japanese friend Kanami was visiting me when we chanced upon the book at A Different Bookstore, and she graciously bought it as a gift for my daughter. What a great gift - it is now Narra's favorite book! Without scaring her too much, I am able to use the kid-friendly and witty illustrations to introduce her to the neighborhood aswang, mananaggal, kapre, white lady, tiktik, tiyanak, etc. in a humorous way.  The illustrations are very current - things like an ipod, a foot spa, and a jeepney make their appearance, making the creatures of folklore come to life in the contemporary urban setting.  I find it a great visual aid in helping me introduce my kids to the spirit world in a uniquely Pinoy way while keeping things fun and kid-friendly... what an awesome achievement! And at P195, it's value for money!