Eulogy

Midnight, we greet everyone Merry Christmas. We eat the honey-glazed ham, the sweet
spaghetti, the pancit, the lumpia, and the macaroni salad. Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole
croons in the background. Before midnight, Lolo Mike naps back in the bedroom. Lola
Carmen sits on the coffee-stained monobloc chair, folding clothes or praying her novena and
rosary.
Lola is always working. Much of who our grandmother was is defined by her work
ethic. In the morning, she wakes up and starts her day by drinking coffee and pan de sal.
The rest of the day, Lola is busy taking care of home. She washes, dries, folds, and
irons clothes. In fact, she sorts clothes according to importance: the clothes for pambalay, she
tosses inside the washing machine; the clothes for work or school or special occasions, she
washes by hand. She makes sure Mommy Angie’s office blazer won’t shrink, or Chuckie’s
school uniform are all iron-pressed, and Mitch’s dresses are free from stain.
She cooks. Miggy’s favorite dish is her nilat-ang baka. She will spend hours in the
kitchen cooking the beef to tender, and filling the pot with broth to pour in as soup. Even with
her age, Lola takes care buying the groceries.
She hauls at least two large plastic bags from Robinson’s Fuente filled with eggs,
kilos of pork and chicken, cans of sardines, luncheon meat, shampoo, conditioners,
toothpastes, cabbages, and biscuits.
Despite the arthritis veining her legs, she rides the 06D or 06B jeepney back to
Guadalupe, and hails a trisikad to ferry the goods home.
Lola was entrepreneurial. She always had a way of finding money whenever we need
it most. She would pawn her bracelets and necklaces for a while and buys them back. She
sells many assortments in our sari-sari store. The amount of bags she hauls back home only
quadrupled when Lola and Lolo carved out a part of the house to sell goods to earn a little bit
of income. Naa ra na’y paagi, she would say.
She bakes. She sells chocolate cakes and brownies with Mommy Angie. The whole
dining table is filled with aluminum containers, where she fills the chocolate batter, and
labels them, one by one. She delivers them to Gaisano Metro or Metro Ayala, and like bags
of groceries, hauls two large bags, and takes a jeepney to deliver them.
 Why Lola does these things should not come as a surprise: when she was young, she
rode the pig and slaughter them with a bolo. She worked as a secretary while she was
studying at university.
She believes we have to earn what we want to achieve. There are no shortcuts. There
is only integrity. Lola lives by that principle. She used to work for the COMELEC. She
would tell us stories how she had to climb through the exhaust pipe and escape when goons
attempted to steal the ballot boxes. She would see bags of money being dragged inside their
office, but my grandmother would not flinch. Not one bit. While her colleagues amassed
wealth in the aftermath of the election, Lola had set up a folding bed for Miggy to stay and
play when she would pick him up from his kindergarten classes.
Despite her fierce mettle and can-do go-to philosophy in life, Lola was, above all, a
beautiful soul. Lola loves to talk. She commands entire conversations. She talks to people
effortlessly. She talks all the time, from morning to evening, commenting about people,
especially people she sees in teleseryes. The primetime period between 7 to 10 in the evening
is her ‘me-time,’ her respite from the day’s work.
But even during her ‘happy hour,’ Lola is seen either folding clothes or labeling boxes
of chocolate cakes or checking the inventory of clothes available at Mommy’s store at
Elizabeth Mall.
She did all these because she also believes service is an expression of love. Every
folded clothes, every cooked meal, every grocery bag brought back home, all these are quiet
acts of love. Lola never questions.
She simply does. She does it out of love. Every Christmas, she gathers old clothes,
places them in neat boxes, and gives them to relatives as pamasko. She gathers her cousins—
Tiya Melia, Tiya Lily, Tiya Cording—over at Robinson’s for snacks or dessert. She never
turns away anyone asking for help. When someone knocks, she receives them, and she gives
whatever she can, no matter how little.
Lola is busy working because Lola is busy serving. Lola is busy loving.
“Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and it shall be opened to
you,” are the opening lines of the Novena she reads every night. She takes those words to
heart. She walks the way of Christ.
Before Lola had her stroke two years ago, she never misses attending Wednesday and
Friday masses. She never misses lighting candles for the dead and writing petitions for the
living. She is always in constant prayer, praying for others, praying for their safety, praying
for their success, praying that God listens to them.
 To see her devotion, it is without doubt that God has special ears for Lola. The only
other person who has special ears for our grandmother was Lolo. Lola and Lolo are
inseparable, two quintessential lovebirds, bound by deep devotion, respect, and love for each
other.
They go to church together. They go to the mall together, riding the jeep from
Guadalupe to Ayala. They sit side by side on the bench, to pass time while they watch people
pass by. They go up the escalator to the third floor, eat their Jollibee Yum Burger and drink
their pineapple juice. While Lola folds clothes, Lolo reads his newspaper, both of them sitting
across each other. Lolo prepares the morning coffee and pan de sal, Lola cooks them their
lunch and dinner.
Lolo sleeps; Lola is in prayer. Lola sleeps; Lolo holds her hand, watches over her,
especially when Lola had her stroke. When Lolo passed away last year, Lola was
inconsolable. She could not speak.
Our home is filled by Lola’s music: her teleserye or Miss Universe comments, her
musings, her pieces of advice, her confessions, her prayers, her dreams. Home wasn’t the
same anymore when Lola wasn’t able to speak two years ago. Home wasn’t the same
anymore when Lolo passed away five days before Christmas last year.
Home isn’t the same anymore when Lola passed away just two days before
Christmas.
Mommy Angie bought a red dress for Christmas, as a way to remember one year
without Lolo. That takes a very different meaning now with Lola’s passing.
Lola loves red dresses. It’s her favorite. It’s the color of the Sacred Heart.
There is a passage in Lola’s novena,

Do not forget. O my Jesus, our Loved ones with whom we were united in life,
and whose departure from this earth caused us sorrow. At the same time, we
are consoled by the thought that, because they remained
faithful to you.

We are indeed consoled by the thought that Lola Carmen has been God’s most
faithful servant here on earth. We are consoled to remember her
As a daughter who honors her Papa Pedro and Mama Julia,
Who honors her duty as wife and partner to Lolo Mike,
 Who has been hardworking and loving as a mother to Mommy Angie and Tito
Marton,
Who has been a loving and caring Lola and great-grandmother to Miggy, Chuckie,
Mitch, Micki, Marc, Mayi, Matt, Gracia, and Audii.
And as a beautiful human being, who does not hesitate to open the doors of her home,
and receive anyone who are in need of grace.
We will remember and honor your legacy, Lola Carmen. We will have and receive
you in our hearts, and we will miss you deeply.
We love you, La.