Friday, June 8, 2012

More than Blood and DNA

Last Saturday, my mom, siblings and I visited Nanang in her new home, 2 weeks after she retired from us. For 49 years she has been part of our family. She started out as my mom's yaya when she was just 4 years old and Nanang was 16, and stayed with my mom until she got married and had us, her kids.

By the way, her real name is Francine. When I was little I thought it was Pransing, because that was how I thought everyone pronounced it. To be honest, I'm still not completely sure what her complete real name is. Because to us, she has always been Nanang, a mix of Manang and Nanay.



That's me (forgive my bare face, I was too lazy to fix my face that morning. haha), 
with my youngest sister, Maela, and Nanang, in the house she saved up on for years

We're really lucky that our family has Nanang. Yes, has, not had, because even though she no longer lives with us, it will never change just how dear and loved she is to us.

To describe her as part of our household help sounds wrong and disrespectful, and I can't help but feel a bit ashamed when I do so. We see her more as our malambing 3rd lola, who believes that any ailment of the body can be remedied by a full stomach. Her favorite diagnosis: "Wala kasing laman ang tiyan!" 
Headache?  "Hindi ka kasi kumain!" Stomachache? "O eto muna ng biskwit. Gusto mo ng sandwich?"
Cooking is her forte, so I guess food is the language she knows best, and therefore what she uses the most. I think her paglalambing through food is one of the reasons why I'm this heavy. haha

And we know that all love and concern we have for her do not compare to how much she cares for us. You can tell if a person are doing things just because they have to, or if they're doing it out of love. With Nanang, we know it's always the latter.


We love you Nanang, and we miss you! :) 

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