A Final Goodnight
/Mom was always helping somebody, even total strangers sometimes. Through her example, we learned to share our good fortune with others. Material wealth wasn't important to her as her needs were very simple. She also taught us not to say anything about anybody if we did not have anything good to say.
Mom’s eight children. Back row, left to right: Helen, Susanne, Annabelle, Mona Lisa. Front row, left to right: Albert, Alfonso III (Tito), Alfonso, Jr. (Boy) and Yvonne.
When I was young, in the '60s, Mom kept me, my sister Bella and brother Boy in the den for two hours every day in the summer to write essays on topics she chose. Our minds wandered outside the dark air-conditioned room; we craved for the sunlight, wished to take a nap, hoped to play hide-and-seek with the maids--anything but write. Soon after we started the class, our assignment was to write about what we thought of her. This was probably the point of the whole exercise, but like a true Pinoy, Mom did it the roundabout way. That was more than 40 years ago. I don't remember what superlatives I wrote, but she must've been happy because she gave me an "A." Thank you, Mom, for teaching me how to express myself in writing.
Mom was the original artist in the family. She wrote beautiful letters, and composed songs in English, Tagalog and Spanish that were featured in concerts and served as musical scores for a few movies. One work, "Don't Say Goodbye, Just Say Goodnight," was sung at her funeral. She knew how tough it was to get a good audience, so she supported the arts every time she could. I also recall afternoons in the den, swooning over the melancholy tunes of Nat King Cole and Joni James and listening to the staccato notes Mom played on the baby grand piano as she tried to finish a song. Thank you, Mom, for bringing music into our lives.
All mothers like to think their kids are special, different from other mothers' children. Mom was no exception. She got involved in the activities of all her eight kids and bragged about them to friends. She made each one of us feel special with whatever talents we had.
One afternoon, Mom showed me just how special I was. I had memorized the lines of each character and the whole musical score of "My Fair Lady." I needed an audience. Mom sat patiently for four hours as I shifted from one character to another and sang the introductions and finales. She sang with me. She laughed. She cried. It was my first standing ovation. She watched all of my performances, missing only the one last March in San Francisco. She showered the same kind of attention on her other children, and grandchildren, too. She supported our undertakings and was so proud of our accomplishments. She sold tickets like we were the main attractions. Thank you, Mom, for being our number one fan.
Mom with some of the grandchildren. Aimee beside her, and back row,( left to right) Xavy, Paolo and Kenji.
Mom was also everybody's favorite person to seek when they had problems and needed comforting. When my niece's marriage ended, Mama (to the grandkids) was the first one she ran to. "Are you okay?" was Mama's only question to her. I remember running to her some 30 years ago for the same reason and feeling so secure and loved as soon as Mom stroked my face with her soft, ivory hands. Her arms gave me refuge and her wisdom eased my pain. It was magical and, of course, I came back again and again. I think she had many friends because she opened her heart, took in wounded souls and healed them without censure. She was also the best keeper of secrets. Thank you, Mom, for showing us what true support means.
“No matter where our mothers may be, we will never forget the many lessons they instilled and the many happy memories they created for us.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I miss you terribly.”
Always thoughtful, Mom made it a point to prepare our favorite dishes when we came to visit. She regularly sent food to my father and his staff. When all of us saw her in the hospital almost daily, she reminded us not to neglect my father. Before dying, she made arrangements for her Christmas gifts to be distributed. I often chided her that she needed to be selfish every now and then. Thank you, Mom, for all the little ways you made everyone feel good.
She lived a full and rich life and learned so many valuable lessons along the way that she was eager to pass on to her children and grandchildren; but we were not always willing to listen. She said her happiest times were the last weeks of her life when all her children and grandkids were around her in the hospital and my father came to visit. The people she loved the most were now giving back love to her.
Before Mom turned 80, she hired a photographer to take pictures of her which she distributed to the children. A few months later, she was diagnosed with lung cancer, and she died on November 20, 2004, a month after her 80th birthday, This is one of the last photos taken of her.
Bravo for a life lived exceptionally well, Mom. Please continue to watch over us. Nag me wherever you are, Mom. Death may have taken you, but it did not end my relationship with you. I will always love you.
Excerpts from the ninth day eulogy for Paz Sycip Yuchengco who passed away on November 20, 2004. She was 80 years old.
First published in Filipinas Magazine, January 2005