Last Saturday, Jay and I went to Simei to start our Christmas shopping. We stopped by Burger King to have lunch. We were sitting on the outdoor chairs when a guy approached us with some watches to sell... Swiss Army, Japanese quartz... ba, bago yon ha... ang alam ko lang e yung US Navy ng Japan, ngayon may Swiss Army na ng Japan... hehehe...:) The watches came in pairs, his and hers. They were nice enough and were great bargains. We weren't sure if they were the real thing... if they were we wouldn't have bothered with them anyway cause they would surely be well beyond our budget. We bought four pairs, for my brothers and sisters and their spouses. Get this, a $100 worth of gifts for 8 people... well done, don't you think? Then we moved on to buy shoes for the kids... they too were good bargains. We bought some things for ourselves too... 2 incense burners... one modeled like a man fishing on a lake and a smaller one done like a flower, both sculpted out of stone. Of course we bought incense to burn... some in sticks and some in cones. Jay loves burning them... and the scents... amber musk, peppermint, sandalwood, ylang-ylang, tea, lavender, ivory musk, sea breeze, jasmine and wild strawberry... scintillating names to tickle your noses and they smell really nice. Personally though, I love the incense burners better... tee hee.
My mom always gave us gifts. Even when times were tough, she always managed to have a little something for everybody. She would start buying them weeks ahead... somehow still cramming in the end. When we were smaller, she would wrap them herself but eventually delegated the task, first to Ate Lani and then to Darlene... she knows I'm no good at it so she never bothered to bother me... :). When we moved to Jordan Heights, and the advent of the T-Club, she also had to buy one for everyone of the 20-member couples of the club (this is ok cause she gets 20 gifts from the members in return). Even now, when the family has grown, with the addition of 5 children-in-law and 9 grandchildren, everyone still gets a little something. Sadly, we weren't really thoughtful kids, so I can't remember if she got any from us when we were younger. We did give them Christmas cards but nothing as sentimental as handmade gifts... guess we were never really creative. When we grew up and had money of our own then we started giving our parents gifts. At any rate, she always ended up with the most gifts... coming from students and co-teachers. She always got money from dad... so you can stop wondering who we take after.
I remember Christmas eve at home... we'd all be together sitting around the dining table. My dad would start off with a prayer and it was always a beautiful one... thanking God for the year past, that we're all still together, that we've endured whatever trials there were, for all the blessings we've received. Everybody would be listening, praying along or having their own thoughts, but everybody would have their heads down or eyes closed and be really silent. As the years wore on and first our brothers and then myself, left the house, my dad would also pray for any child who was not there... it wasn't often however... almost always everybody would be there anyway.
Then we'd start the meal. Christmas eve meals would always be simpler than New Year's. We would have pancit molo, ham, queso de bola (which I've never eaten), spaghetti, bread, some salad or another, and fruits. There would always be hot cocoa after meals. Sometimes we just ate, often the kids would be bickering and teasing each other. After meals, we would gather around the Christmas tree and my mom would be handing out gifts... it was very seldom that we didn't know beforehand what was in them... :) When we got older and when times were good, my dad would open a bottle of wine and allow us to drink a bit. One time I drank a glass too many and got stoned. Muddled, I accidentally swept a glass off the coffee table and it broke. I really didn't know I did that. The following morning, my sisters told me what happened. They said, in my stupor, they told me, "Hala Jet, binasag mo yung baso." And I drunkenly answered, "Galit Mami?"... hehehe...
There is one particular Christmas that wasn't all fun. I can't remember the year... maybe subconsciously I wanted to forget it... but I know I was still in highschool. It was after my dad left Community Chest and he was starting up with his own practice. He was sick then, caught tuberculosis and was under medication. I guess it was a very difficult time for him... not enough money, poor health, the stress of establishing a career after having a seemingly very secure one for so many years... I really can only guess. His temper was up all the time and it wasn't a lot of fun being at home.
My mom was then principal of a public highschool, I think it was in Camarin, Kalookan. It was a new school and some buildings still had to be put up. Because of this, my mom was in constant correspondence with the city engineer and somehow my dad got jealous of that. I really don't care about getting into the details because they're not nice, to say the least, and best forgotten. That Christmas, my mom still managed to have Christmas dinner on the table but my dad didn't offer his prayers. He hovered around, distancing himself, smirking at nothing in particular, not really getting into the Christmas spirit. I hated that moment. I felt it was so unfair for us kids cause nobody talked about what was going on and we were confused about our parent's behavior and didn't know how to react... not after all these years of prayers, and jokes and teasing around the table at Christmas eve. Maybe this happens to every family at one point... when people don't talk about things and clear them up, special occasions always become a tough time.
I now realize that gift-giving, especially around Christmas time goes both ways... there is honesty in giving within your means, and graciousness in receiving the humblest of gifts. My dad showed his pain... that he was not beyond hurt, that he too can lose it... a fact that to us kids came as a confusing reality, having believed all the time that our father always had it together, was always in control, the person people went to for help. Knowing my dad, that revelation took a lot for him to offer... it took a lot of honesty... I guess I could say we were gracious enough to accept it in silence... the humblest gift we ever had.
I never really took it against my dad... that lousy Christmas... I'm just glad that it never happened again. That was the one and only time my dad lost it... out of the many reasons he could have given up, he stuck to the struggle, kept to his senses and came through for us. That Christmas makes me grateful for all the fun Christmases we had and are still having... because I know that it could be unpleasant... if we don't bother enough to care, or care enough to bother.
My mom always gave us gifts. Even when times were tough, she always managed to have a little something for everybody. She would start buying them weeks ahead... somehow still cramming in the end. When we were smaller, she would wrap them herself but eventually delegated the task, first to Ate Lani and then to Darlene... she knows I'm no good at it so she never bothered to bother me... :). When we moved to Jordan Heights, and the advent of the T-Club, she also had to buy one for everyone of the 20-member couples of the club (this is ok cause she gets 20 gifts from the members in return). Even now, when the family has grown, with the addition of 5 children-in-law and 9 grandchildren, everyone still gets a little something. Sadly, we weren't really thoughtful kids, so I can't remember if she got any from us when we were younger. We did give them Christmas cards but nothing as sentimental as handmade gifts... guess we were never really creative. When we grew up and had money of our own then we started giving our parents gifts. At any rate, she always ended up with the most gifts... coming from students and co-teachers. She always got money from dad... so you can stop wondering who we take after.
I remember Christmas eve at home... we'd all be together sitting around the dining table. My dad would start off with a prayer and it was always a beautiful one... thanking God for the year past, that we're all still together, that we've endured whatever trials there were, for all the blessings we've received. Everybody would be listening, praying along or having their own thoughts, but everybody would have their heads down or eyes closed and be really silent. As the years wore on and first our brothers and then myself, left the house, my dad would also pray for any child who was not there... it wasn't often however... almost always everybody would be there anyway.
Then we'd start the meal. Christmas eve meals would always be simpler than New Year's. We would have pancit molo, ham, queso de bola (which I've never eaten), spaghetti, bread, some salad or another, and fruits. There would always be hot cocoa after meals. Sometimes we just ate, often the kids would be bickering and teasing each other. After meals, we would gather around the Christmas tree and my mom would be handing out gifts... it was very seldom that we didn't know beforehand what was in them... :) When we got older and when times were good, my dad would open a bottle of wine and allow us to drink a bit. One time I drank a glass too many and got stoned. Muddled, I accidentally swept a glass off the coffee table and it broke. I really didn't know I did that. The following morning, my sisters told me what happened. They said, in my stupor, they told me, "Hala Jet, binasag mo yung baso." And I drunkenly answered, "Galit Mami?"... hehehe...
There is one particular Christmas that wasn't all fun. I can't remember the year... maybe subconsciously I wanted to forget it... but I know I was still in highschool. It was after my dad left Community Chest and he was starting up with his own practice. He was sick then, caught tuberculosis and was under medication. I guess it was a very difficult time for him... not enough money, poor health, the stress of establishing a career after having a seemingly very secure one for so many years... I really can only guess. His temper was up all the time and it wasn't a lot of fun being at home.
My mom was then principal of a public highschool, I think it was in Camarin, Kalookan. It was a new school and some buildings still had to be put up. Because of this, my mom was in constant correspondence with the city engineer and somehow my dad got jealous of that. I really don't care about getting into the details because they're not nice, to say the least, and best forgotten. That Christmas, my mom still managed to have Christmas dinner on the table but my dad didn't offer his prayers. He hovered around, distancing himself, smirking at nothing in particular, not really getting into the Christmas spirit. I hated that moment. I felt it was so unfair for us kids cause nobody talked about what was going on and we were confused about our parent's behavior and didn't know how to react... not after all these years of prayers, and jokes and teasing around the table at Christmas eve. Maybe this happens to every family at one point... when people don't talk about things and clear them up, special occasions always become a tough time.
I now realize that gift-giving, especially around Christmas time goes both ways... there is honesty in giving within your means, and graciousness in receiving the humblest of gifts. My dad showed his pain... that he was not beyond hurt, that he too can lose it... a fact that to us kids came as a confusing reality, having believed all the time that our father always had it together, was always in control, the person people went to for help. Knowing my dad, that revelation took a lot for him to offer... it took a lot of honesty... I guess I could say we were gracious enough to accept it in silence... the humblest gift we ever had.
I never really took it against my dad... that lousy Christmas... I'm just glad that it never happened again. That was the one and only time my dad lost it... out of the many reasons he could have given up, he stuck to the struggle, kept to his senses and came through for us. That Christmas makes me grateful for all the fun Christmases we had and are still having... because I know that it could be unpleasant... if we don't bother enough to care, or care enough to bother.
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