If I have boxes of odds and ends that might seem like junk to someone, blame it on her. If I take time to pick up one hairpin, one little button, or a piece of rubber band that I could have otherwise just easily kicked away with the dust, it is an offshoot of a habit I cannot shake off. In my mind I know she would do the same. If I finish off the last two pieces plus a handful of crumbs from the bag of chips even if I really do not want to, it is because I would not dare throw away clean food. Mommy would eat whatever is left first, then throw the bag. Never mind if she is not particularly fond of chips. Sayang lang daw kasi. Oo nga naman.
Why keep a scrap of foam and bubble wrap, dozens of tiny bottles that once contained scalp-treatment solutions, old toothbrushes, a piece of thin, red ribbon less than a foot long, plastic containers, a too-funky looking vase, a lonely Christmas ornament, tacky plastic ribbons, a string of beads that had come undone, a faux gold bangle that Wonder Woman would kill to have, scraps of tela, pretty greeting cards that were as ancient as our cook back then, stockings that had runs all over them? Why keep them, we asked her through the years. She would always answer: because one day, someone will have a use for it, just wait and see.
The wisdom of a mother! True enough, time would prove that there was use for every single item she had kept! Like pieces in a puzzle, those bits of "junk" turned out to be smart solutions to humdrum needs. Genius! And like the people who looked at Noah and his ark skeptically, it took time for us, her children, to appreciate her prudence.
There is a difference between keeping things just because you are attached to them and keeping them because you believe that you or someone you know will have a use for them, perhaps not immediately but surely in the near future. Mommy is a staunch advocate of the latter. She does it so effortlessly that she has it down to an art. It is second nature to her already. And yes, she will part with them in a heartbeat, first-come, first-served.
Growing up, I remember how she would carefully unwrap the pretty wrapping paper of the Christmas presents we received. She would instruct our Yaya Juling and Yaya Conching to carefully fold the wrappers on the creased parts and store them in a box. They had to do the same with ribbons. Come Christmastime or when we needed wrapping paper for birthday gifts we first had to look in the box for what could be salvaged. Except during Christmas, we would always find enough wrapping paper and just the right ribbons to accent our packages. And because we had a continuous flow of gifts coming in for the many milestones we celebrated in a year (there were six of us in the family, after all), there was always enough pretty paper and ribbons to go by. Come to think of it, Scotch tape was perhaps the only thing we always had to replenish.
As far as my mom is concerned, it is ask and you shall receive. Just last night I went to her room because I needed foam. Suntok sa buwan, especially at midnight, but given her track record it was worth a shot. "Foam? How big? That was her quick reply. Try looking in that drawer, I remember keeping a piece that I found lying around."
Lo and behold, she had a thick piece the size of two cell phones, far more than the two square inches I needed.
Once I was in dire need of just one more safety pin and I scoured my sewing kit and drawers for one. Back in the province it would have been easy to send someone to go to the corner sari-sari store or borrow from the neighbor but in a big city like Manila it was a crazy idea to send out the driver just to buy safety pins. Stranger still if I were to knock at the neighbor’s house. Well, what do you know, she had a whole bunch of them stored in those nifty black film containers (before digital cameras became all the fad).
In the middle of the night, when I belatedly discover that I have run out of cotton buds, cotton balls or shampoo I go to my mom’s room and, true to form, she has dozens of packets that she had saved from all those hotel rooms we stay at during our travels. She even has disposable shower caps!
A brand-new packet of toothpicks that fell on the floor she once scooped up and years later I was able to use them for a project in home economics. Scraps of tela we would use as raw material for doll’s clothes we blackmailed our yayas into sewing. Pretty white dresses or gowns we used just once for school plays or weddings, she would pass on to the househelp that either got married or were sponsors to a wedding.
You’re probably still curious. How else were the pieces of junk I mentioned above put to good use? Foam, for jewelry. Bubble wrap, to protect delicate items that need to be shipped. Dozens of tiny bottles that once contained scalp treatment solution, she fills them up with healing oil and gives them away to the sick. A piece of thin, red ribbon less than a foot long was just what I needed to accent a gift I was wrapping. Old toothbrushes, she turns over to the househelp to use for cleaning the tiles in the bathroom (my mom is a stickler for cleanliness but that’s another story altogether). A too-funky looking vase, why she actually found someone who wanted it! A lonely Christmas ornament, tacky plastic ribbons, a string of beads that have come undone, a faux gold bangle that Wonder Woman would kill to have, they became props for school plays at one point or another. Stockings that had runs all over them were just what the gardener needed to anchor the orchids to the driftwood. Socks that are missing a pair, she gives to the house girl to use as basahan.
It really thrills her no end when junk is put to good use. If we receive gifts so ugly you would not want to get near it with a 10-foot pole, we give it to my mom. We know she will find someone who will love and take care of it in ways we never will. It is like she has an orphanage but instead of kids she has all sorts of things, from something as small as a bead to one as large as a cabinet, and she will match the item with an appreciative and loving owner.
Growing up in Ormoc, recycling really was not a big thing but my mom prevailed and she would keep all the magazines that accumulated through the years in our bodega. One day, she happily sent them off in batches to someone who manned a second-hand store. Her eyes sparkling and her heart happy, she was affirmed in her mantra of not letting anything go to waste. Who would ever think that the magazines she had saved all those years would be an additional source of income for someone else? Her operative phrase always is "ayaw usiki, pwede pa ni magamit" (don’t waste it, it can still be used). Indeed, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Long before scourging flea markets became the craze, my mom already practically owned and operated one. The big difference was, everything could be had for free!
My mom is the only person I know who actually keeps wedding and birthday giveaways. Sure we all keep the ones we like but she will keep even the ones she does not like. She puts everything in a shallow cabinet that now spans the length of two walls in our house in Ormoc, just out of respect for the celebrant and those who paid for it. She always says it is no joke how much people spend for big celebrations like that and it is a waste of money when you throw away a perfectly good thing that holds sentimental value for someone else pa. How can you argue with that? So now there are hundreds of little thingamajigs gaily peeping through the glass cabinet doors. From ceramic and glass swans, miniature plates, wine glasses with the picture of the bride and the groom holed up inside it, to potpourri in sachets, shells, candles, and rosaries in mother-of-pearl boxes – name it she has them all. And guests are always drawn to that area because they get so amazed that someone actually has the patience to do that consistently. Plus they always like the stories behind it.
I used to like everything to match. Not anymore. Instead of buying uniform multi-purpose containers for a myriad of things I need to keep handy, I now look no further than home. I make use of what I have lying around the house. Sometimes it’s a square plastic container from what used to be Juliana’s play kitchen set (which now holds my paper clips), the sturdy box that once housed sticks of tobacco (it now holds a whole bunch of gift cards), the pretty tins of Chinese tea, mooncake, and chocolates (they are home to craft tools, pens, and stapler refill). They do not go with everything else on my work desk but they serve their purpose and they have a lot of character. I kinda like it that way.
Now when Juliana needs this or that, chances are I will have them in one of the many labeled boxes I keep on the shelves above my desk. I am far from being as unfailing as Mommy but the habit is rubbing off on me. They say we become what our moms are, that is so true. This is but one of the many things that she did not go out of her way to teach me but I have picked up the practice. Only because she always led by example. To this day mommy unconsciously coaches me, in both little and big ways, the value of prudence and forethought. I’m so glad I believed her when she said, "Someday you or someone you know will have use for it."
Whoever said mother knows best was indeed very bright.