Nanay is the Philippine word for “mother”, and as such that is what I always called my mother-in-law. Her real name was Imelda Tagalacia, but I will always remember her as Nanay, and there wil never be another Nanay in my mind. Today would have been her birthday, and I’m ashamed to say I’m not sure of how old she would have been. She will always be the same ageless age that I saw her at last time.

Nanay and I always got along, and we would wake up and have coffee together in the mornings while I visited the Philippines. She was the only adult in the town of Mambog who was not afraid to hold a conversation with me (sober). We would talk about culture differences, day-to-day activities, life experiences, and hopes. We would sit on the 2^nd floor front veranda where we had set up chairs and greet the morning with hot cups of instant coffee (That’s what they drink there).

I sometimes felt that I was the only one she didn’t feel the need to yell at. She yelled at her husband, her children, and other people. I think because she was not a tall woman, people tended to ignore her when she spoke, so she tended to repeat herself, in such a manner that the entire block would hear her. She had a stage performer’s ability to make her voice carry. Her children (Including my wife) didn’t ignore her for long, and it only took 2 times for directions to be carried out.

When my youngest was born, Nanay was on the first plane over to Beijing. She spent 3 months helping out with Sammy and JD. She switched to real coffee (Folger’s every morning). And took care of Irish and the kids. She was so excited when it snowed. She had never seen snow before in her life, so Irish loaned her a jacket, and she took JD out to play in the snow. She was like a big kids herself. She had no problems going to the store by herself and getting things even through the language barrier. She, I hope, had a great time. Unfortunately Immigration wouldn’t let her extend her visa, as she wasn’t MY blood relative, and I was the one working. So at the 3 month period, she headed back to the Philippines.

When she passed, it was quite a shock to all of us. Irish had it the worst of all her sisters, being the oldest. We had to borrow money from my family to pay for the funeral, because her insurance papers where so mixed up that nobody wanted to pay out anything. This was the first time I ever saw someone I knew closely get put in the ground. My wife still, years later, dreams about her mother. Nanay did not have the chance to see what great adults her 2 youngest daughters would turn out to be. She would not get to see her grandchildren go to school. And she would never have morning coffee with me again.

Happy Birthday Nanay, We miss you.

Happy Birthday