Random Thoughts About Zamboanga – Part 1

These are random things I wasn’t able to cover in my recent posts about my trip to Zamboanga.

I had mentioned that I didn’t sleep well while I was in Zamboanga and not even on the flight back to L.A.  It wasn’t until I was in my own bed when I arrived on Thursday, September 13^th, that I slept fitfully for 8 hours with some pharmacological help. Unfortunately, for several more weeks after that, I still suffered from insomnia. Before I left for Zamboanga, I would wake up at about 4 a.m. and could not sleep again. When I returned, I couldn’t fall asleep until 3 a.m., wake up at about 8 and my mind would feel cloudy the rest of the day until it awakened at about 7 p.m. 30 plus hours of jet lag is difficult to catch up with. Although I had a mild anti anxiety pill available while I was in Zamboanga, I didn’t want to take it because I didn’t want to be impaired in case something happened in the middle of the night. It turned out to be the right decision.

One of the more glaring observations I had in Zamboanga and perhaps that also goes for the whole Philippines, is the religiosity of the people. It seems like I’ve become more secular in my decades here in the U.S., that with the sudden exposure to so much religion, I experienced religion burn out after just a few days. There were so many rituals after someone dies and those rituals don’t necessarily serve the dead but just to make the living feel better about themselves. I apologize to the religious people for feeling that way. Despite my burn out on religion, I want to thank the Pabellon Family and Irene Hassan for their religious guidance.

Another major observation that was hard to miss was the kindness of people like the Tupaz and Pabellon families, the Mother Butler group, former classmates, relatives I haven’t seen in a long time, and even strangers. Somehow I had forgotten about the well known hospitality of Filipinos. Being a recipient of such hospitality, kindness, and compassion was a humbling experience. To the Tupaz Family, I heard that Mama was an investor in your company. In that case, she profited a thousandfold in the form of your kindness.

 I’m a loner by nature. I’ve never had so much face to face contact as I had in Zamboanga in the less than two weeks I was there. I had to brush up on my social skills rather quickly. Now, having returned to the U.S., I am starting to miss the human contact.

A few weeks before she died, my brother Larry told me that Mama gave away her handbags and shoes to the gay people operating a beauty salon next door. Then we gave away the rest later to the caregivers, helpers, and anyone who fancied anything. Each of Mama’s purses (and she had a lot) almost always contained a folding fan, a hanky, a rosary, and some money. I even found money I sent her two years ago. The receipt from the company I sent it through was with the money.

I use an internet appointment calendar and weeks before Mama’s birthday, the Memo To Me internet reminder service sent me an email saying that it was time to send money to Mama for her phone bill which I do once a year. Though I didn’t have to send money this year anymore, it still saddens me.

Another startling revelation was Mama’s remarkable memory. Even in her semi stuporous state, she would remind us what to do and even corrected the nurse in the hospital what medication she was scheduled  to take next.

           Thus concludes Part 1.

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Returning To Los Angeles From Zamboanga

Goodbye #59 Pilar St. - My home for two weeks.

(Cue music: J. Cole’s “I’m Coming Home”)

Thinking back to the night before I left Zamboanga City, I am hoping we had met all our dear Mama’s wishes before she died. I can’t think of anything we missed so I’m comfortable in thinking that we had done all she asked for in her last days and the few days that followed. Would you believe that a couple of years ago, Mama told me her goal was to reach at least the age of 80? Well, she planned that perfectly too. Incidentally, that happens to be my goal also. That evening, Larry and I invited the Pabellon and Tupaz families to dinner at the Grand Astoria Hotel Lotus Restaurant. Other than the children, this was the same group that planned Operation Pilar two weeks before and executed the plan to a T. As I mentioned before, these two families were the source of moral, emotional, spiritual, and physical support of Mama in our absence. We cannot thank them enough for what they have done to help Mama the past few years and especially the last few months, when the demands of her illness most likely also put a strain on those two families. We will owe them a debt of gratitude forever.

Dark and early Thursday morning, it was time to catch my 6:45 flight from Zamboanga to Manila. The compulsiveness to exercise will have to be satisfied later in the airport terminal hallways. Larry drove me to the airport taking a slightly circuitous route along Cawa-Cawa Boulevard. If I only knew that going all the way down Governor Lim Avenue took me to the seaside boulevard, I would have made that one of my exercise destinations too. Maybe if I ever make it back to Zamboanga, I’ll be able to run or walk along Cawa-Cawa. Larry dropped me off at the airport and and I felt sad as we hugged each other goodbye. He was staying a day or two more to tie up any loose ends. I was left to fend for myself one more time. You won’t, and I can’t believe how much dependent I had become on other people in the two short weeks I was there. Taken out of my element, I had become helpless and useless in Zamboanga.

Pretty soon Airphil Express departed Zamboanga City and landed in NAIA (Ninoy Aquino International Airport) Terminal 3. I had plenty of time to make it to Terminal 1 as I had a four hour layover. I asked an airport worker and a desk police officer where I could catch the shuttle bus. They pointed me to a certain direction. I went there and boarded the bus which left quickly because I filled the last seat. During my arrival a couple of weeks before, I had taken the shuttle from Terminal I to Terminal 3 without any problems. A few minutes into the trip, I noticed that we appeared to be going farther away from the airport so I asked my seatmate where the bus was heading to. She said Baclaran. Oops, that’s not where I wanted to go so I approached the driver to make sure. Sure enough the bus was heading downtown, so I quickly jumped off. How was I to know there where two kinds of shuttle service (one that went around three terminals and one that took you downtown)? I hailed a taxicab and asked to driver to take me to Terminal 1 where I was supposed to fly on Korean Airlines back to Incheon and L.A. I requested the driver to please turn on his meter since he hadn’t in the few seconds I was in the back seat. He started a conversation about his missed opportunity to move to Italy a few years back. Without being too specific, I told him why I was in the Philippines. Thankfully, the conversation was short because I had not been dropped by the shuttle bus too far away from NAIA. It was an 85 peso taxi ride (about $2.00).

I entered Terminal 1 and looked around for the Korean Airlines counters. Owing to my disorientation, I lined up behind a couple of people not noticing that one of them was in a wheelchair. Another oops because this was the handicapped line and I was redirected by an airport worker to the proper line. After checking in, I headed to the nearest money changer and except for a few hundred pesos for the terminal fee (550 pesos) and in case I had to buy food, I exchanged everything back to dollars. It was about that time that Leonard called and offered condolences. He only heard about Mama’s passing that morning via Facebook (the same way he heard I arrived in Zamboanga two weeks before). We chatted briefly and wished each other well. He said he may visit the U.S. again soon.

After that, I queued in the Immigration line and when I got to the counter, the lady asked me if I had changed the spelling of my last name because it didn’t appear in their database.. I said that when I became a U.S. citizen, I connected all the letters of my last name. I was then cleared to enter the departure area. I walked past the duty free stores and snack concessions and found my way to the Korean Airlines gate. I had about 2 hours to kill so I went back up front to get some food. I ate some overpriced arroz caldo with tough to bite chicken leg and a siopao. With still more time to kill, I decided to put in my walking workout by traipsing up and down a long hallway between the concession stands and the departure gate. Each way took about a minute and 15 seconds so you can do the multiplication on how many laps I had to take to finish 35 minutes. As usual, I was pulling my luggage while walking, just like I did at Incheon and Terminal 3 a few weeks before. The airport workers who were at their permanent posts were probably thinking how crazy I was (they were not completely wrong). At least I was able to satisfy my obligation to my body for the day and not miss a workout.

I don't know exactly what this was but it appeared like people depicting a wedding party was walking through Incheon Airport

The three hour flight from Manila to Incheon was pretty uneventful other than an old lady behind me getting mad at me for reclining my chair too far back which almost spilled water on her. I tried to get some zzz’s to no avail. I initially had the row of three seats all to myself until a man transferred from his more crowded row to take the window seat in mine. We had a couple of hours layover in Incheon so I connected to their wi-fi to check email and Facebook. I was out of cellphone range with either my U.S. Virgin Mobile service or Philippines SMART service so when the flight from Incheon to L.A. was delayed almost an hour, I had no way of contacting my neighbor who was supposed to pick me up at the airport. Since she works for Southwest Airways, I was hoping she was tracking my flight online. With that delay, I got a little peckish so I looked around the airport and found something familiar: Subway sandwiches. First I asked if they accepted dollars and how much the tuna sandwich was. The half sub size was $4.00 which I think would be similar to the U.S. price.  At least the Koreans did not overcharge, not like the 10 plus dollars hotdog, chips, and soda I got at LAX.

Before we boarded the plane to L.A., we went through another security check and this was probably because it was the anniversary of 9-11 and also because of the killing of the diplomat in Syria. This was slightly more rigorous since the x-ray machine wasn’t used but rather, security people opened our bags. Having passed that, we left rainy South Korea. Another 12 hour endurance event for the buttocks stuck in a 36 inch wide seat. At least that was better than the 32 inch seat of domestic planes. Speaking of buttocks, I noticed that despite the downsizing of toilet paper through the years in the U.S. the Koreans still appeared to have full sized ones. Or maybe the TP just looked bigger because the plane lavatories were too small. While the majority of passengers went to sleep between meals, my mind was constantly turning on and off, thus denying me the pleasure that others were too glad to partake of. Lack of sleep would be my norm to this day regardless of airplane seat or my own bed. My sleep patterns have been majorly destabilized.

When we arrived in LAX, we had to take a shuttle bus from where the plane dropped us off to the main terminal which was about a couple of miles away. Interesting twist there. While still on the plane, I texted my neighbor Colleen that we just landed and when I was at the Customs line she texted back that she was circling the airport while waiting for me. Fortunately, Customs didn’t hold me up and was soon waiting for Colleen outside the arrival area. While waiting there,  a lady asked to borrow my cell phone to call her daughter. They spoke in a language I didn’t understand. Was I happy to see Colleen and her son Kenny driving up. Finally, something and someone very familiar. I was back home. (Cue music: Randy Newman’s “I Love L.A.”)

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Setting The Funeral Wheels In Motion

Minutes following Mama’s passing, Kuya Vic, Ate Chit, Caloy, Madie, and I gathered around and contemplated our next move. Vic called La Merced Funeral Parlor to consult with them what to do next. We then went to La Merced and told the person in charge that we needed to transfer Mama to their facility. He summoned another worker and they brought a guerney to their truck and followed us home. There, they transferred Mama on the guerney and took her back to the funeral parlor with me riding shotgun. Mama was placed in a room next to the embalming area. I guess they had some regulation that required them to wait a certain number of hours before they can start the embalming process. Someone mentioned that it was to make sure there was no spontaneous resurrection. Caregiver Neneng and helper Andrea arrived at about 3 a.m. to keep watch over Mama while I went home to contact my supervisor and rebook my flights. Kuya Vic mentioned earlier that it was important to keep watch because there have been instances in the past where organs were harvested illegally. The ubiquitous stray dog(s) was also seen hanging around the funeral parlor so that was another cause for concern in case their hunger got the better of them. Sorry about being so morbid here. In the meantime the Pabellons and Tupazes gathered information on the proper paperwork to fill out and submit to authorities regarding Mama’s death. Nothing else could be done until after 8 a.m. that morning.

Sending an email to my supervisor wasn’t a problem. My Cebu Pacific Airlines ticket wasn’t refundable or rebookable so that was as good as lost. Scouring the Korean Airlines website, I didn’t find a page which allowed me to rebook. Instead, a message popped up saying that the Philippine government does not allow online booking for international flights. I had to find the Manila phone number of Korean Airlines and promptly gave them a call. Telling them my situation, they were able to rebook me for Thursday with the same schedule as my Monday flight. Just after the rebooking was confirmed, the load on my cell phone ran out! Thankfully I already received the confirmation number, although I was still doubtful. It wasn’t until a few hours later that I felt reassured, when an email confirmation with a new eticket arrived.

I returned to La Merced at about 7 a.m. to relieve Neneng while awaiting the arrival of Larry. The other caregiver – Joanna arrived shortly to join Andrea and I. I was relieved to see Larry walking down the hallway towards us. Together we went to look at Mama. Quiet prayers were said, then Mama was taken to the embalming room. Larry and I went to the office to find out options for visitation rooms and caskets and that was taken cared of at that time. Caloy and Madie arrived with a government social worker who came to verify the demise of Mama so that a medical officer could issue a death certificate. The Pabellons came shortly and together with Larry, we picked a casket for Mama based on her prior instructions. Then they had to leave to follow up with more paperwork. Larry said he even had to obtain a cedula. I added some load to my cell phone at a store across the funeral parlor, then a chain of text messages was sent around to relatives and friends regarding Mama’s passing and Uncle Dante and Auntie Lita came by the funeral parlor to join us.

After the embalming process, Mama was dressed in the clothes that were chosen two days before, then placed in the casket. Initially, the workers brought the wrong casket, so we had to show them the one we picked. Mama was then brought upstairs to an air conditioned visitation room (only one of two, I think). By afternoon, flowers and visitors began to trickle in. The chain of text messages had done its job.

We had decided beforehand that the visitation would only be two days so the burial was scheduled for Wednesday afternoon. Prayers and masses were arranged, the details of which were pretty much a blur to me by that time because I hadn’t slept in more than 24 hours. I just assented to what people were telling me. About 9 p.m., as Ate Chit was saying something, I felt dizzy and had to excuse myself to go home. As usual, I didn’t sleep well despite my exhaustion.

I managed to do my walking workout on Tuesday morning after which I humped it all the way back to La Merced (running and walking) because I was running late, and I had told Larry beforehand that I would be back by 8 a.m. to relieve him. I was running low on pesos but found a money changer nearby which was also a booking agent for Airphil Express Airlines. That took care of two things at once and saved me time. Visitors came and went thru late Tuesday evening. I met relatives and family friends whom I haven’t seen in years or met for the first time, and got phone calls and text messages from the rest who were not in Zamboanga. Thank you all for your condolences and offerings of prayers.

I left briefly and went home to get a small pillow and my earplugs because I planned on staying at La Merced that night. It was Larry’s turn to get some shuteye  at the apartment, but he stayed with us that night too. So it was Larry, Neneng, Mary Cate, Andrea, Erning’s family (sorry I forgot your names), and I who stayed overnight with Mama.  We secured the visitation room door, barring the two handles with an umbrella just like Larry did the night before, then took turns sleeping on the pews.

When I awoke at 5 a.m. Wednesday, Larry was already up. It was raining outside and I had no raingear. I also only had one pair of running shoes which I also wore for the rest of the day. I couldn’t get those wet because I had to wear them for the funeral later that day, so I mentally prepared myself to missing my first workout in 30 odd years. Then I started walking in my slide sandals, doing laps around the second floor of the funeral parlor and pretty soon added the stairs (only one flight though) until I reached my requisite 30 minutes, then added 2 more for good measure. My exercise streak lives on! If it was still a running streak, I'm not sure if I would have been able to continue it since running inside a funeral parlor seemed inappropriate.

I went home for a quick shower then returned to La Merced bringing the clothes I brought from the U.S.  for this particular purpose. Even though anticipating the death of a loved one is difficult to think about, and of course you don’t want it to happen, I still had to be realistic based on reports I received before travelling back to Zamboanga.

Prayers led by the Mother Butler group

Hours passed, relatives and friends came, a rosary was recited and pretty soon, it was time to transport Mama to St. Joseph’s Cathedral for the funeral mass. Remember I said I thought I may not be seeing my Notre Dame classmates again real soon? Well, some of them showed up that day too. I can’t say much about the funeral mass because it was another moment of blur for me.

Funeral Mass at St. Joseph's Cathedral

 The video that our cousin in law took pretty much portrayed what happened accurately. Thanks again Boni Salinas. I shall post that video again below. We were transported to Forest Lake Cemetery after the mass where I saw Papa’s burial site for the first time since I attended his funeral. I thought that happened 11 years ago and I was grossly mistaken when I saw his headstone dated 13 years prior. Brief services and blessings were conducted and Mama’s casket was soon lain on top of Papa’s.

While the workers covered up the grave, snacks were passed around to the attendees (thanks to Ate Chit for taking care of this). They were purchased from and delivered by KFC (yes, folks – Kentucky Fried Chicken). Mama would have been smiling about that blend of Filipino tradition and American commerce.

Goodbye Mama. We Love You Very Much. Thanks For Everything You Have Given Us.

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Pilar’s Last Days

Uncle Dante and Auntie Lita

Mama hardly said anything if at all from Friday through Sunday even though visitors came in and out through the day.  Uncle Dante and Auntie Lita were there every day. Others who came to visit were baby Annika and her mom, Carmela Marfil, Leonardo Wee, Irene Hassan, Vic and Chit Pabellon, the Mother Butler group, Caloy, Madie, and their children of course, who just lived upstairs, and other people who escape my mind now, so please forgive me if I forgot to mention you.

Annika - Apo sa tuhod

We purchased a bulb syringe to try to clear Mama’s throat of phlegm or saliva when she started choking from drinking fluids. She was also having difficulty swallowing by this time and took all her energy just to sip water from a straw when taking her medications. Because of the heat and humidity, the caregivers changed her clothes frequently which was no easy matter because these were house dresses and not hospital gowns. Under the circumstances, we did our best to keep Mama as comfortable as possible.

Mama was on oxygen by nasal cannula all day and night. By Friday, the oxygen was running low and Caloy with his trusty handyman, Erning found a wrench in case we had to switch the regulator from one oxygen bottle to a backup one if the delivery of a new bottle didn’t come on time. It turns out that the regulator came with its own wrench as Larry told us. We just had to find the box it came in. I tried transferring the regulator to the backup bottle but heard some hissing indicating a leak. Fortunately, the oxygen company delivery guy came shortly and showed us how to detect a leak by using soap bubbles. It turns out, I only had to put more muscle into it to tighten the valve. Well, we can always learn something new every day, can’t we?

With Madie and Ate Chit present on Saturday, they went through Mama’s dresses to pick out what she would wear at the end. They knew Mama’s preferences very well and picked out a pretty cream colored ensemble that Mama would have approved of.

With Notre Dame classmates at Palmeras Restaurant on Notre Dame day.

I had to leave Mama for a couple of hours Saturday night because my Notre Dame of Jolo classmates invited me to dinner at Palmeras Restaurant. It was going to be a mini reunion on Notre Dame Day!  Mimi and her son picked me up and we encountered the worst evening traffic on the way. The car could barely move at the corner of Nunez Street and Governor Alvarez Avenue. What normally would have taken 10 minutes took half an hour. The same group that met me at Amil’s the week before was there minus Nayda, but plus Delia and Fatmawati. Earlier in the day, Delia sent mangosteen, homemade durian preserve, native organic Jolo coffee, and itlug payukan (I will not translate that last one because it’s supposed to be illegal obtaining them anymore), to Mama’s apartment. We had Japanese cuisine that evening which I offered to pay for but my classmates declined again. An equivalent of less than 75 dollars fed 10 people Japanese food with much left for doggie bags! A great time was had by all but we had to say our goodbyes pretty soon. People don’t spend too many late nights out in that city. I thought it would be a few years before I would see my classmates again.

I was driven home by Mimi and her son after dropping off Delia at her hotel. I checked on Mama and the caregiver said she hadn’t complained of any pain while I was gone so I was relieved to hear that.

Sunday, I was out for my early morning walk again then attended mass at St. Joseph’s cathedral, where I saw Mama’s doctor with her family up front. On my way back home I stopped by Morning Sun Satti House to say goodbye to Solomon because I was leaving early Monday morning. I invited the Tupaz family to lunch and we went to Lantaka Hotel’s Sunday smorgasbord after they went to mass at 11 a.m.

A view from Lantaka Hotel showing the Port of Zamboanga and Santa Cruz Island beyond

When we returned home, the morning shift caregiver – Joanna reported that she was concerned about Mama’s low blood pressure so we monitored that closely through the day. It went as low as 70/40 which was cause for much concern even though Mama’s pulse was strong and constantly in the 100 to 110 range. When Joanna got that low reading she burst into tears. I rechecked it and it was similar even though I got 82 for the systolic. We couldn’t really do anything about it. Mama was having what is called fluid volume deficit due to lack of fluid intake, not to mention food. I told her to hang on and that I was leaving the next day to go back to the States, and that Larry will be with her in a few days time. But I had a feeling at that point that Mama wasn’t going to let me get off that easy in leaving Zamboanga. I can only imagine what she was thinking (“oh no you’re not!”). So I made a mental checklist of what I had to do if the inevitable happened while I was still there. Since arrangements for Mama were already done, all I had to do was contact my work supervisor via email in case I had to extend my leave, and rebook my flights. I also made a backup plan for Auntie Beth in California to call my supervisor in case she doesn’t get my email over the weekend. As for Mama, we can only monitor her. Because of her difficulty swallowing, I told the caregivers to hold all her maintenance medications because those were inconsequential at that point. Basically they were blood pressure and acid reflux medications plus multivitamins. Her blood pressure was already too low and there was no acid reflux because she wasn’t eating. She had to reserve all her energy to take the pain medications because that was all that mattered now.

I tried going to sleep but because of the situation, I couldn’t. I expected a phone call or text message to come at any time, and it did at 1 a.m. The text message from Neneng just said “sir Noel”. I rushed to Mama’s apartment and saw that she had started gasping for breath. It was no longer the usual the respiratory pattern I had observed consistently during the past week that I had been there. I held her hand, felt for her pulse with the other and detected that her pulse rate had slowed down considerably. I whispered to her that we loved her and that it was okay to let go and to say hello to Papa for us. Part of me felt like getting a panic attack and getting out of there to avoid the situation. In Mama’s last few moments, I prayed to God to help her go peacefully and to give me the strength to handle the situation and not freak out. Thank you God for being so accommodating. Drawing one last deep breath, Mama left the earthy world and to her Maker’s hands, also reuniting with Papa, no doubt. The date was September 10, 2012, 1:05 a.m.

I called and woke Larry up a few minutes later and told him our Mama was gone, and he prepared to return to Zamboanga on the next available morning flight.

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Sunday - A Fateful Decision Day

Sunday Morning with Mama

After all the visitors left on Saturday night, Larry and I stayed in the hospital until visiting hours were over at 10 p.m. We went back to the apartment and for the first time since 1973 when I was 15 and he was 10, we were roommates again. I was too tired to do anything else so while he tinkered with his newly bought 3G (I’m guessing) internet connection dongle, I went to sleep right away amid 3 chihuahuas yapping away outside. The nightly yapping was going to be the norm for the duration of our stay.

 I woke up at the usual 3 a.m. and just tossed and turned in bed while my brother snored away. Just like the previous day, I was out the door for my workout by 5:30 and this time I was determined to reach Western Mindanao Medical Center (WMMC) by foot. I started walking in the right direction that morning and pretty soon started jogging. The sidewalks are small in this city and sometimes you have to step off due to an electric post blocking the way, but at the same time dodge vehicles on the street in addition to ubiquitous stray dogs and their resultant poop. I made it all the way to the hospital, went upstairs to Mama’s room, saw that she was still asleep and motioned to caregiver Neneng that I would be back later. I powerwalked all the way back to the apartment. So how far was it each way? My best guess based on my walking pace was only about a mile and a quarter. Someone told me the previous night he thought it was about 3 kilometers, which is much less than the 1 1/4^th mile I estimated.

Satti with Larry

When I got back to the apartment, Larry was already up and after I took a shower (actually, a pail and dipper type of shower), we decided to hit the satti place again for breakfast. We left for the hospital right after and when we got there, Mama reminded us that there was a mass in the hospital at 10 a.m. (it didn’t start till 11, more on Filipino time later). We got a call from the Pabellons  informing us of a meeting we should have with the Tupaz Family (Mama’s landlady) at 3 p.m. to make decisions about Mama’s care, since Larry and I were finally there. Those two families have been the go-to people whom Mama relied on in our absence. I reiterate that we cannot thank them enough for taking care of our Mother the past few years and especially the last few months when she started ailing badly.

The meeting was held at the Pabellon residence and it was to plan for the inevitable. What do you ask was the inevitable? Sensitive as the topic was, it was a necessary discussion. What were Mama’s wishes? Where would the wake and visitation be (La Merced) and for how many days (2)? She already had a burial plot, did she also have a memorial plan (yes)? Will she be buried side by side with Papa or on top of him leaving a vacant plot aside (on top)? Finally, are we going to keep her in the hospital and continue treatment for what may or may not be pneumonia with no assurance that powerful antibiotics might help?

The first of Mama’s wishes was already fulfilled the previous night and that was that she, Larry and I were together again. Her second wish was to get discharged from the hospital, and the third being that she not die in pain. Another wish she had was to have a decent casket worth at least close to 100,000 pesos and proper religious rituals and services that she can be proud of. She had already set aside money for that. As usual, Mama had planned way ahead of time. Assignments were given to who was to foresee the prayers, masses, refreshments and other food. Larry was going to check on Mama’s memorial plan coverage, the funeral parlor, and the burial site requirements as well as the funeral mass. I didn’t have anything to contribute because I wasn’t familiar with the ins and outs of Zamboanga City. The final decision to be made was what to do with Mama’s hospitalization. We decided to meet Mama’s wish to go back to her apartment while continuing her maintenance medications and her pain pills (Morphine and Ultram or Tramadol). Out of respect for some people and because of their extreme kindness, I shall not write about the proselytizing which happened afterwards. Although it may help some people, it was just not for me. So sorry about that. So with all the decisions made, Operation Pilar was set in motion.

Nurse checking Mama's vital signs

We returned to the hospital to see Mama and let her know that we were going to ask her doctor to discharge her but not before consulting with the doctor the next day. By the way, the doctor started Mama on Morphine on this day because she was complaining of pain and the Tramadol was not helping much any more.We stayed with Mama until the hospital was ready to kick us out at 10 p.m.

*A side note – I don’t remember if I met the Tupaz family for the first time on Saturday morning or Sunday morning.

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Momsie in Weemsie in Zamboanga City

I approached the Western Mindanao Medical Center (WMMC - locally, they call it weemsie) front entrance and the security guard checked me for weapons. He didn’t inspect my bag when I told him I just arrived from Manila and was there to see my mother on the third floor. I then rode the elevator then asked the nurses at the nursing station where room 324 was. After all those years being gone, I was about to see my mother again, though not under the best circumstances.

The last time I was in Zamboanga City was for the funeral of my father 13 years ago. Mama was still very much in charge and choreographed the visitation, wake, and funeral with ease. At the time Mama portrayed strength and determination to see things through during Papa’s final farewell, as I’ve never seen her done before.

I knocked lightly on the door of room 324 then entered. My first glimpse was of cousins Mary Cate and Claire, and Uncle Dante and Auntie Lita. As I approached, I saw dear Mama to the left in bed. I excused myself from my relatives and greeted Mama first. In the best American accent I could muster,  I said “Mom, I made it!”, then held her hand and kissed her on the forehead. A faint smile came across her face. I wasn’t sure if she was expecting me to be there with her so soon. In her weakened state, she wasn’t able to talk very much but our shared silence spoke enough volumes of the gratitude we had being together again after more than a decade of separation.

I turned my attention to our relatives who until about a couple of months ago didn’t know about Mama’s worsening condition. It was through Facebook that I found one of my cousins (the younger brother of Cate and Claire) whom I never met in real life, and asked him to inform his Dad and Mom – Uncle Dante and Auntie Lita, about Mama. They had been visiting Mama frequently since then. Uncle Dante is the last remaining sibling of Mama who is alive.

Half an hour after I saw Mama, the Pabellon Family arrived. Kuya Vic, Ate Chit, and Jing came from the airport where they went to pick me up. But because of the plane arriving 10 minutes early and my quick exit from the terminal, we missed each other. Pretty soon, photos with Mama were being taken, knowing that the opportunities of doing this were dwindling in the coming days. These photos will be cherished forever.

Mama asked me what I had in my luggage, knowing full well I had brought chocolates as she requested. I opened my bag and unloaded a dozen 6 pack bags of fun size chocolates of all kinds (boy, have they downsized those things!). Mama proceeded to verbally dole them out to those present. I didn’t keep track on who got what and how many. They were Mom’s goods to give out however she desired.

My brother Larry arrived the next evening and we were able to fulfill the first of Mama’s last wishes – the three of us being together. Thank you, Larry, for asking me to come home much earlier.

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