Lying on a hammock with my brother on the opposite end, we would hear her humming, her hands fidgeting with needle and string as she repairs some torn kiddie t-shirt. We would squint our eyes while pretending to be asleep, but would sometimes receive from her a lash with coconut leaf rib. That's everytime we feign to be snoring but with our eyes half open and make a silly little smile on our face.
I can still smell the rattan hammock, the squeaking sound of abaca ropes grinding on our corner posts as she subconciously push our boat-like hammock into a gentle swing. Often times, she is a quiet sweet image we were too comfortable to notice, too familiar to be seen and too trusty to be taken for granted. But she is the one constant being to correct me when I'm wrong, share my joy when I'm happy and accomplished, always hoping that wherever I go, all is well with me.
Today, I may not write about the many details of my admiration for her. This blog space my not suffice, and attempting to would do her injustice. Memories of my most adored past will always be traces of her generosity, kindness and care beyond description of the written words. I just want to remember her today and honor her for giving me to the world. Happy mother's day dearest Nanay!
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