Our Indomitable Mamang
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Celia and Paul, 1955
Celia Ilagan Tañedo
Aug 14, 1926-Feb 19, 2020
And so, she had two girls, moved far away for my father's small enterprise, then moved back to the hometown again and had six more. Through the difficulties of raising eight, waking up at dawn to cook our baon (pack lunch), boldly confronting the nuns when they were out of line, getting excited over her daughters' jam sessions, and laughing when alarmed neighbors announced that her boys just jumped into the creek with the carabaos, she had her hands full.
She, like her father, read and read and read. All of the Harvard Classics and Lucius Flavius and Steinbeck and Faulkner; loved Audrey Hepburn and Cyd Charisse and my father's 1930s songs. And like every mother on the block, when it was time for the children to go to Manila for college, nothing was spared. Even when times were hard, that child knew he or she was going. It did not dawn on me, the fifth child, until much later, how she herself had badly wanted to go to college.
Pearl Harbor was bombed that December of her fourth-year high school in UST. And she had eloped two years later, after my father was released from the Japanese. So, when all the children older than me had gone, she enrolled and graduated BS Education when I finished high school.
The years teaching at Mapa HS and Ramon Magsaysay on España were extremely fulfilling for her. Always, she had her semi-orphaned students in our small home. They were quite fond of her. One Christmas, we had 16 kids from the orphanage share what little we had. Life was tough every step of the way, she hardly had the resources to focus on her own needs, but one would not have guessed just how tough.
One time, while swimming in Sual, a group of young teachers surrounded her. "Madam, you look like the actress so&so." Nonplussed, she said: "But I am 83!" Ayna, kastoy gayam ti bumakbaket nga awan stress na! (This is what it's like grow old without stress!).” That elicited the loudest laugh from all of us! Just looking at her, you would not have guessed how her own struggles would have read like a Guy de Maupassant story.
The author’s mother at 93 years old.
Ten years later, she had the great fortune to be at the Kadayawan Festival in Davao. Upon knowing that this visitor from very far away, in her wheelchair, could not stay a day longer to see their dances, the IP (indigenous people) women cried and put precious beads on her head and danced at performance level around her that had the press photographers swarming. She had that effect even into her 90s. So, Mamang, all the self-denial and sacrifices seemed to have brought forth an artistahin (like a movie star) aura. Na hindi namin minana (which we didn’t inherit).
Reposted with permission from the author’s Facebook page.
Rochit I. Tañedo, freelance writer and foodie wannabe from Gerona, Tarlac hopes to get re-acquainted with her hometown and fears for its future now that plans are afoot to build an SM Mall on the highway.
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