A Tribute to Lily (1946-2005)

The end of September was the 2nd anniversary of my mother’s death and I wanted to take the opportunity to write about her--the mom I knew that not a lot of people did. My mother was born and raised on a small island in the Philippines and she used to tell me the most interesting stories about growing up. She told me about how a boy on the island used to jump out from behind her and scare her on her walk to school, so she told me that one day she took a knife and hid it in her clothes, and as she put it, “he never bothered me again”. Or her story about how she unknowingly worked for the black market out of college and how she was kidnapped and the CIA got involved. Her most poignant story was about how she was (7 years old?) at the time and was told to watch the dinner cooking while her older brother took care of the house and her other siblings (she was one of ten!) while her mother was just recovering from giving birth and how their hut and everything in it was set on fire and they lost everything. She did tell me about how my grandmother and grandfather never blamed her or said anything to her again about it and just rebuilt it and went on. (I guess after that story, nothing my kids do should ever matter that much either!) When she was a teenager, she was a nanny for a US couple and came to the States back in the Civil Rights times and she would tell me about how she felt being of a different color than most. When she was a teenager, both her parents had died, so when she married my dad she came over to this country by herself, parentless. Every known soul, except my dad was still in the Philippines. She made me see just how strong and daring she was and how she lived a life of adventure. She was strong, independent and bold, and she didn’t care what people thought. She always spoke her mind, so what you saw was what you got. My mother was a larger-than-life personality for her 4’11” frame. The only word I could use to describe my mom was ‘over-the-top’. She was a fireball and I honestly grew up thinking she was not afraid of anyone or anything.
On the contrary, she was also a very kind, hospitable woman, who never met a stranger. She was very social and could strike up a conversation with anybody from off the street and invite them to our home. She loved to have people over after church and would cram our house full just to enjoy their company. She was a terrific cook and she always cooked enough for an army, even though there were only four of us.
She was a very extravagant lady and she loved to shop. She loved ‘bling’, not the costume jewelry, but the real stuff. I think she could have hocked her jewelry collection and bought a small country, considering how extensive it was. She always joked that she would ‘come back and haunt my dad’s second wife’ if he remarried if he ever gave her any of my mom’s old jewelry. You would think it was funny, except for the serious look in her eyes! If anyone could come back as a ghost, my mom would because if she said it she meant it!
She loved to learn knew things. She cooked, she sewed, she played the guitar, and she even took piano lessons herself for awhile. She also took small engine repair classes to learn to fix our lawnmower, and upholstery. She even refinished our antique baby grand piano by hand. She loved music and she sang and played the guitar—she was even in the church singing group, ‘Sweet Adelines’ when I was a girl. She taught me about commitment. She made me stay with piano lessons for 12 years. By doing that she taught me that with commitment, things pay off. She taught me that I can’t live a life just doing things halfway.
She was a stay-at-home mom when I was little, selling Mary Kay on the side, but she decided that one day she would get a job. She didn’t want just any job, but a good-paying job for the Postal Service that she saw in an ad. So, with no experience, she studied for and took the Postal Exam and almost made a perfect score! She eventually became a Supervisor in the USPS in downtown St. Louis. She was always so proud of that story.
She worked nights for many years so that my sister and I could go to college. She was a tough, little lady and she took care of herself. She always stressed independence and practicality with us. She wanted us to be doctors, lawyers, because she thought we could be those things. Also, she always wanted us to be able to support ourselves, with or without a husband, because as she had been shown in her life that life did not always go the way you had planned.
I see her so differently now than I did when I was a kid. Now I see what great strength she had and determination to make it for herself and her family in another place, away from anything familiar. She was very determined and whatever she set her mind to, she did. She was so proud of me and my sister and my kids (Ashlyn & Layton—she loved you so much!!) and loved to brag about us all the time. I could spend pages writing about her, but I just wanted you to have a little glimpse into the person I called mom.
She taught me not to be afraid, stand up for what you think is right--no matter how big or scary someone or something is. That you can accomplish anything that you want to in life. That you are stronger than you think you are and to not take for granted the people in your life right now. To always do the right thing. When things are hard to suck it up, put on a brave face and get right back out there—that’s the way she always lived her life and I’m proud to say that I am her daughter! Mom, may God hold you in his loving arms until we meet again someday.

For those of you out there who have lost your mothers--fight to keep their memory alive so that your children and grandchildren know them. And for all of you out there who still have moms living on this earth--don't forget to tell them you love and appreciate them. Don't wait until its too late.

May God bless all our mothers out there.