A Proud Day

It is a proud day indeed. When you watch your mother standing proud, when you and your family are working together, when even your nieces and nephews are so well-behaved they would've sprouted wings on the spot, it is a proud day.

February 7, 2009 will always be etched in our memories, individually and as a family. This is the day it has become official. My mother now belongs to an elite group of people: the Papal Awardees.






As part of preparing for my tasks for this event, I researched on the subject and found, to my surprise, a dearth of materials. No famous person has won the award. Then it dawned on me that it's because these people serve the church. And as servants, they know not fame.

My family was immersed in the preparation for the event. There was a conferment ceremomy and a reception.

For the conferment, we have to have a church. A mass must be celebrated, the church, decorated, music provided. Ah, but the difficulty was not in the lack of people to tap. It's actually the opposite. Over 10 priests (bishops, monsignors and reverends) were to be present. We had to choose a choir. we have to organize the ceremony-- entrance, offertory, assignments, etc. It wasn't a question of lack but a matter of organizing an abundance.

It was such a matter of importance we even had a rehearsal!






For the reception, we had to find a venue that will fit the many people who want to be there. We had to cut down on invitees. There is a program to be planned and organized. Secrets and surprises to be kept to make the event extra-special.

My sisters and I gave it all the time and effort we could. It is a proud day. A day for our mom who brought us all up and made sure we were safe and well, and did it on her own.

We prepared an AVP for her. We talked to people, spents weekends interviewing and taping. We went from Pateros to Malabon, interviewed both lay and priests, shot in a cemetery, a chapel and a crematorium. We had so much material, we could make several versions of the AVP.








My mother had initially asked us to perform but we all adamantly refused (ano, bale?!). What she didn't know was that we prepared an MTV instead. We didn't want to be shitty on such a proud day. So we recorded. We chose Handog, originally sang by Florante, I believe. The song talked about sharing oneself.




And it was a hit. At least I'd like to think so. When your cousins are guffawing and getting belly-aches from laughing, it a good thing right?

I would like to think we succeeded, if the tears flowing from her that night was any indication. We were proud. Proud of her, proud of ourselves for making this a proud day for her.