The_Grimwitch_Chronicles

The day before the Philippines celebrates its Independence day, will be my Lola Dominga's birthday.

She is born in her native Aklan, a province in the island of Panay. Although it was the time of peace after the Great War, she lived a hand to mouth existence. She was working as the freelance laundrywoman of the neighbrhood when she met my lolo, who works as a community carpenter. She married my Lolo Armando in a simple ceremony before the World War II erupted. She gave birth to her eldest child during the war and had to hide the subsequent children from the Japanese in the mountains of Panay.

When the war ended, my granparents lived on a small makeshift hut near the shorelines. Lola had children to take care of so she did not continue her free lancing. She did sell rice cakes in mid-afternoons and mid-mornings to augment my Lolo's meager income. They have 10 children after all: 7 sons and 3 daughters.

When her children grew up and lived in Manila, Lola would often visit their families, particularly her eldest son. When she has made her rounds and ready to return home, she would visit us.

When she's with us, Lola would often do housework, despite our housemaid's vehemence. She loves folding clothes, clear the table after eating and clean the altars. When she's not busy doing that, she would often ask me or my other siblings for clothes that needed mending. She was a whiz in making a ragged but comfortable trousers and torn dresses wearable again.

Her industry is evident with her hands that even before she sleeps, she loves combing my tresses and telling me lots of stories about my father's childhood till I fall sleep. She comforted me whenever I cry after being scolded. She scolds me when I waste family resources (like electricity, food or water). She influenced me and my siblings to become devout in the religion we are baptised in. She explained the dogma behind every religious tradition she upholds. She tells no jokes but has a ready smile for anything humorous.

On her last visit to us, we were celebrating my younger brother's birthday. We were having dinner then. We had sauteed mung beans, my other brother's favorite. It was seeped with coconut milk and garnished with salty smoked mackerel. As usual, we would talk about what we did in school and the latest family news. Lola would look on intently, reading our lips as she has a slight hearing difficulty. My sister was telling a funny story about her classmate but before she could even get to the punch line, the birthday boy's chair had collapsed - preempting it. Oh how Lola laughed! She was still laughing heartily as she helped my teary-eyed brother sit on a new chair. She said she will never eat mung beans again without remembering my brother. That made my brother smile and join in the laughter.

That night, as Lola was lulling the birthday casualty to sleep, she remembered her birthday. She said their parents never celebrated their birthdays. It was enough to have food on the table - something special like canned sardines or if possible, canned meat. They would have steamed rice, with no corn mixed with it. There would be something sweet for dessert - like sugared coconut or hardened brown sugar. Although food would be rationed by their mother, it was nice to have a little of everything than none at all. We are fortunate, she said, that we have a feast on our birthdays. A cake, she said, is for the birthday parties of the rich in her time. She had imagined eating one herself, but she had never celebrated her birthday.

Her return home was postponed for some reason and she had to celebrate her birthday in Manila. Our cousins knew our time with Lola will not be long so they organized a surprise potluck party. She was surprised when she woke up with all her Manila-based apo by her bed. She almost cried. She burst into tears when she got up and saw the whole house transformed into a barrio fiesta theme and relatives she rarely saw arrived to celebrate her birthday on the exact date. She was still crying when she saw her very first birthday cake...it was a chocolate Goldilocks birthday cake. My older cousins have mischievously bought one that was I assume was designed for children. It had lots of icing flowers on top with chocolate garnishing on the side. It also had many small pink cake candles around it. "Happy Birthday Lola from All Your Apo" it said. Lola tried hard not to cry as we all sang "Happy Birthday" in English, Tagalog and Akeanon. She was about to slice her cake when a much younger cousin shouted, "Happy Birthday!" kissed my Lola while wiping a big chocolate smudge on her cheek. Mayhem ensued. We started wiping icing on each other's faces. No visitor was exempt.

Somebody had managed to salvage Lola a piece of her cake and all the icing flowers. She was laughing again and was contented sucking the sweet icing flowers as we were scolded by our respective parents after the pandemonium.

You're the 1 Goldilocks because every time I taste slice of celestial goodness of your cake, I always remember my Lola's first birthday party and THE cake that made her the happiest birthday celebrant that day. The one thing nearest to heaven that made my Lola's days on earth the happiest.