I begin with my mother, Corazon, a devoted wife, first of all, then a mother of ten children whom she raised with great affection and inventive skills. Once my eldest brother, now a medical practitioner in Sydney, punched my sister with a vengeance, and Mama did not say anything. But that night when everybody was asleep, she woke him up and cried her heart out and said he had broken her heart. My brother changed after that episode; he became loving and gentle with all his siblings. Mama had been a dramatic actress even at an early age, reciting at age four, Rizal’s complete "Mi Ultimo Adios" in Spanish, on top of a huge rock where her father had perched her, and everyone in the small town of Milagros, Masbate came to listen and wonder at the small thespian. She was all or a little of everything – she sang in the local Catholic church, played the violin, sewed the most beautiful ternos for queens during the town fiestas, raised the most exquisite American roses and African daisies, headed the women’s club, organized the first Protestant church (after her conversion to Protestant) in Masbate, was a lay leader when the family moved to Gingoog City in Mindanao. She was into politics, too, as a councilor in Gingoog. Spending her last years with my brother in Sydney, she sewed clothes and wrote two novellas and at 78, started painting flowers. In the midst of tribulations, she never wavered, but continuousy held fast to her deep faith in God. There is so much to say of this woman, my mother, but I am limited by space; suffice it to say, she was my hero, my shining light, my inspiration.
There is another exceptional woman in the family – my auntie Ada, sister of my mother, who lives in Dumaguete City. She was an attractive, plump girl in high school when she was a band majorette. She trained to be a deaconess at Silliman, served as one after college, became a dormitory matron, and sold pension plans because, she says, "It’s my way of serving people." When people with pension plans die, she says, their relatives need not worry about memorial services and funeral expenses. And serve she still does religiously, driving, at age 65, her small motorcycle to 50 kilometer distances to collect her living clients’ premiums.
I go on to women I admire in academe – former Justice of the Supreme Court Flery Romero, whose good nature and spirituality are evident in her decisions. Then there is Flor Braid, a constitutionalist, educator, author, a great party host and good cook, and abiding friend. To Flory Maslog of the UP Los Baños’ biotech department has gone the best awards for her contribution to making superior animal vaccines; she also happens to be one of my best friends.
In the field of journalism, I take my hat off to Letty Magsanoc, superb newspaper editor and caring friend. Sheila Coronel, the investigative reporter par excellence, is one of my heroes. In the field of advertising, there is the Philippine STAR’s Gracie Glory Go to hold up as enterprising and innovative – and, personally charming, too.
Mina Gabor has always been my idea of an effective tourism secretary; her creative spirit and love of life are written in her endeavors which put the Philippines on tourism maps around the world. Mina’s good friend Glenda Barreto is a favorite, too, for her endless quests into unforgettable cuisines.
My bosom friends – Lydia Robledo and Flor Tarriela – are people to cherish for their helping me get by spiritually and through their creative enterprises as butterfly gardening and dried flower arranging. Rosie Chew, the top advertising-cum-public relations person of yore, I envy for her sustained faith in the divine.
Letty Shahani – she doesn’t know it – is one of the politicians I admire for her astuteness and dedication to espousing good and noble legislation.
I could go on and on, talking about a lot more people who matter in my life. My next tribute will bear their names.