This year wasn’t any different, save for the fact that for the first time in years, we didn’t have a camera on hand (oh, yes, I do want to kick myself for not having one ready). That said, I suppose I would have to write this blog the way I used to write blogs before I discovered I could actually append photos to them—I would just have to attempt to recreate everything from memory with as much detail as possible. =)
For as long as I could remember, I looked forward to Mother’s birthday celebrations. Typically held on the last week of May, it was the literally the culmination of summer for me. I anticipated it not just because birthday parties are always happy occasions, but because I always looked forward to the other tradition that everyone else looked forward to every time the end of May rolled along.
When we first moved to House Better, Mother did away with the usual ornamental plants, flowers and Bermuda grass. Having been born with a dominant practical gene from Noni’s side, she, instead, had carabao grass and all sorts of fruit-bearing trees planted in the garden. Never mind that they didn’t particularly go well with the Spanish villa theme of House Better. Roses, no matter how beautiful, wilt. With fruit-bearing trees, well, at least you get to eat the fruit.
And so it goes that we had a dwarf mango tree in one corner, a santol tree somewhere in the middle, a langka tree on one side of the backyard and a guava tree (the traditional ones that yield small fruits for sinigang) right outside Bro I-gue’s bedroom window. Somewhere in the garden, we also had rows of calamansi and siling labuyo. At a certain point, we even had rows of bananas and papaya trees. Oh, yes, I lived in a real-life Farmville when I was a kid (which probably explains my current fascination with the darn game, haha).
Anyway! I digress. =)
Mother’s birthday celebrations always coincided with the full-blooming of those trees—never mind that their flowers start sprouting at different points in time. The anticipation inside me bubbles up and grows as the flowers of the mango and santol trees slowly give way to small green fruits until they finally grow into a multitude of big, yellow orbs that dot the green foliage. Somewhere in the garden, the banana hearts slowly peel, layer by layer, to reveal the small fingers within that eventually grow into either long, yellow latundan (or were they lakatan?) or into stubby, fat and brown saba. By then, the papayas would also have ripened, and the langka fruits would have been heavy and fragrant, ready to fall off the tree. The guavas, if I remember correctly, seem to be available year-round so they’re really no biggie to us kids, except for that one year when Father—with his typical naughtiness—brought home several giant guapples from one of his trips (guapples weren’t as widely available back then), and tied them discreetly with straws to the branches of the guava tree. I remember how loudly I laughed when Tita Thelms rushed excitedly up the guava tree only to guffaw herself silly while perched up on the ladder when she discovered that the guavas were “fake”. =D
Every year, we’d wake up to hear the dirty kitchen abuzz with activity as Mother cooked one of her signature dishes (one year, it could be roast beef with mushroom gravy, another year, it could be roast chicken, another year, it could be mechado, etc., etc.) to match the staple soup, steamed crabs/shrimps (high impact, low stress, she says, haha), inihaw na liempo or BBQ, manggang hilaw with bagoong, etc., etc. In the far, hidden end of the backyard where the dirty kitchen was built, the maids would also be busy firing up the charcoal grill, peeling the mangoes, chopping onions and tomatoes, even as they remain on their toes, ready for Mother’s further directions.
Us kids (along with Father) knew better than to meddle in the goings-on in the kitchen at that time. It was literally a no-fly zone: no kids AND Father allowed. Haha. Bawal kami makigulo at panggulo lang daw talaga kami. =) Instead, we would eat breakfast leisurely until the party tables and chairs were delivered. That was our task: to set-up the tables and chairs (which have since evolved from the wooden folding chairs and tables of yesteryears to the plastic monoblocs of today) under the trees, careful to choose the right spots. Our objective was to provide protection from the noontime heat while minimizing the possibility of having the guests bonked on the head by a wayward falling fruit.
Every single year, for reasons I could no longer remember, us kids and Father would always have a discussion as to where the tables should go.
“Eh, last year, that’s what we did, eh di ba….”
“Eh, mainit diyan mamaya….”
“Eh…….”
Hahaha! Hay! ;D
I suppose because of the series of third quarter storms, a good number of branches inevitably get cut off by the raging winds, so much so that by the time next summer came along, the branches would have grown back in different directions, effectively rearranging the patches of shade under which we can set up the tables and chairs. And so, year after year, we would set up tables…..then rearrange them……then rearrange them again. Success came only in the form of plaid rental tablecloths finally being laid out on the tables; it was the clear signal that an agreement has already been reached to everyone’s satisfaction. (Buti na lang, hindi kami ang assigned sa kitchen! Haha. ;p) Setting up the citronella candles on each table was the final touch.
By around 11:30 am, uncles, aunts and cousins would slowly be trickling in, by family, by batch. By then, the food would have been laid out on the buffet table. The electric fans would have been set up in strategic locations in the garden. Mother, Father and us kids would have been squeaky clean, fresh from the shower. There would have been no trace whatsoever of the stress and chaos that was House Better earlier that morning. It was time for celebration. =D
Over lunch and tons of food, chatter would be incessant, laughter boisterous. Never mind that, back then, we actually used see each other practically every week at Eduardo’s. There would always be something new to talk and laugh about. During birthday celebrations, however, the decibels always seem to go up several notches higher. Haha.
And so it goes that we would while the day away, practically glued to our seats, getting up only to either get more food or something to drink. Lunch would slowly give way to after-meal coffee which would then give way to afternoon merienda until it was finally time for Mother to blow out the candles on her birthday cake.
My siblings, my cousins and I looked forward to the ceremony because after the candle has been blown and the pictures were taken, we were—finally!—allowed to take and eat as much of the sugar flowers on the cake as we want.
The blowing of the candles had an entirely different significance for the adults, however. It signaled open-season on the fruit-bearing trees. Some would end up on stepladders. Others would reach for the makeshift “sungkit” that Lolo Danding once made out of bamboo and wire, as the others stood by holding out their shirts/skirts, ready to catch the fruits as they fall. Still, others (usually Tito Art) would literally climb up the trees to either shake the branches or pick the fruits by hand and throw them down to the people waiting below. Celebrating Mother’s birthday was literally harvest time in House Better, and the freshly-picked fruits went into sando bags along with packed food from whatever was leftover from lunch. Lootbag! Mother-style. Hahaha. =)
This year, we celebrated Mother’s birthday—as usual—with a lunch party at House Better. Same rituals on food preps and table set-ups—except that all the trees (save for the Santol) have been uprooted, at one point of another, by the different super-typhoons that have ravaged Metro Manila in the intermittent years since we were 10 years old. That said, even the Santol is no longer the same. The years, I suppose, have finally caught up with it. It still bears fruit, but the fruits are decidedly fewer and much smaller (closer in size now to the local santol fruits compared to the Bangkok santol-sized fruits it used to yield). The fruit trees have also since been replaced by bromeliads, euphorbias and other ornamental / flower-bearing plants. Even the banana that sits in one corner of the garden is now of the ornamental variety. With the kids all grown-up, I suppose, Mother has learned to tame her practical side and allowed herself to finally pursue those that she really loves for no other reason than just because she enjoys them. As she added each year to her age, her garden evolved along with her.
For this year's party--with the fruit trees gone and a new generation of kids running around Eduardo’s and House Better--I suppose a new tradition needed to be put in place. It came in the form of plastic inflatable pools that were set up under the Santol tree which kept the kids entertained all afternoon and the adults free for lunch, for coffee, for merienda, for never-ending stories, for boisterous laughter, for catching up on each other’s lives.
While the details may have changed, some things will always remain. Life. Family. Love.
Happy birthday, Mother!
May you live long enough to celebrate your 50th Golden Anniversary (even if walang renewal of vows, haha), to see Maia, Raya and Siobe dance on their 18th birthday, to see them walk down the aisle, etc., etc.!
Love always,
T&T =D
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I typed this on Word but refrained from posting it to my blog until I have fine-tuned it. Last Thursday, my siblings and I woke up to a text from Father telling me that he rushed Mother to Makati Med because she was experiencing chest pains. Thursday afternoon, we were told that tests have confirmed that she had a mild heart attack and that an angiogram would be necessary to confirm the extent of the potential damage on her heart. She had the angiogram early Friday morning which confirmed that an angioplasty was necessary (but that thankfully, a bypass was not). We always complain about work stress, but we now know that nothing compares to the stress of having one of our parents in the hospital as everything hung on the balance.
Mother is home now, and thankfully, much better, but that was quite a scare. So may I just reiterate: Happy birthday, Mother! May you live long enough to celebrate your 50th Golden Anniversary (even if walang renewal of vows, haha), to see Maia, Raya and Siobe dance on their 18th birthday, to see them walk down the aisle, etc., etc.! We love you! Mwah! =D
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