Before sunset, on the beach- Nasugbu

May24, 2012, Nasugbu

Mommy had been asking to go somewhere all week. "Anywhere," she'd say, "anywhere I can breathe fresh air." And then also, "anywhere there's a view." It had been several days that Mommy had been very weak and sluggish. At times, she asked for oxygen so she could breathe.

So Annette and I took her to Nasugbu. Bobby drove and Tirso rode shotgun with Mommy's wheelchair in the back. Mommy perked up after snacking on cracked ice and swigging Pedialyte. My prescription. In the car, she started to talk a mean streak and even started to sing! Annette couldn't believe her ears. Mommy had rarely spoken all week. And she was always sleeping.

I called Tita Mely on the way there to tell her we were coming. Bless her; she immediately said come and fetch her from school. At 81, Tita Mely is still teaching.

We were very late turning up, of course. We stopped for lunch of pinakbet rice, crispy pata, and tortang talong with manggang hilaw salad at Antonio's Grill. Heaven!

We picked up Tita from her house- that perky but faded little house of hers- site of happy childhood memories for me and my brothers and sisters. And for Mommy, glorious holiday memories of her heyday as glamorous Manila cousin-in-residence.

Tita got into the car with us; and there we sat waiting for her maid whom she had dispatched to buy coffee for us to take home. Wildly aromatic Kapeng Barako which later perfumed the interior of the car deliciously on the long drive home. 

Tita immediately launched into her stories. The rest of us settled back in our seats, enjoying the restfulness afforded by a seasoned storyteller taking center-stage. She told of reconnecting with her siblings after years of "tampo" and recriminations. Her most recent victories at work and successes in her career. Countless social events and commitments featuring various priest friends.

Soon we were off to the beach, lulled by Tita's softly sweet, well-modulated school principal's voice. Sitting backward in the front seat, I sat facing her, legs crossed in front of me in a loose lotus pose, my back braced against the car's dashboard. Very unsafe and totally reckless. I felt safe and content. Mommy was happy.

I found us a little hut on a quiet, freshly combed stretch of inky black volcanic sand. Deserted except for a few local boys rough-housing in the sea. The surf was up.

Bobby and Tirso expertly carried Mommy's chair, HRH regally in it, in the style of the pampered ladies of old, roughing it on pilgrimages to Antipolo. 

Annette and I split a nicely chilled bottle of San Miguel beer. We drank from plastic cups provided by George, the lifeguard cum beach sweeper. He was really nice- he deftly uncapped the bottle with a quick maneuver that involved his teeth! OMG! Annette and I exchanged soft "eeeew"'s. But he was really cute; so it was okay.

We left just before sunset.