Lola Toray would have been 120 years old today.
The lola I later came to know went through so much emotional rollercoaster while raising 5 daughters of the 11 she was blessed with. I hear of stories of what she went through. Her exemplary business acumen for someone who didn’t finish elementary. She ran what was once one of the biggest stores in town with no business degree but just street-smarts and a keen ability of knowing what her costumers need. Stories of her sufferings as a wife to a wandering husband. Stories of her ways of mothering while she learned to raise her brood and their livelihood.
I do remember bits and pieces of her.
I remember always finding her sitting by the window of her 2-story house, people watching to while the time away. I remember the distinct smell of whiteflower, a bottle of which was always in one of her pockets. I remember her usual ensemble – sleeveless duster with 2 pockets and usually dark colored. I remember her offering her prized humba and yellow mangoes during our visits (although she usually would ask for my dad and offer him those glorious humba). Her humba though was just legendary. The pork skin so soft it almost melts in your mouth. The fat all jiggly and soft but never “luod”. To this day, I have not eaten one as heavenly and glorious as my lola’s humba. I remember her generosity while being careful not to be a burden to us. I remember how happy we were when she finally agreed to go to our home not knowing it was her last day. I think she wanted to see for herself that we were all good and taken cared of.
I thank the Lord for Lola Toray. She showed my mom what it is to be the best mother despite the hardships, the struggle. She showed us that no matter how someone may have broken you, it is better to forgive and to learn from the mistakes. She showed a path for us, grandkids, how grandmoms can be both tough but generous and loving.
Thank you Lola Toray.
Note: My mom looks like my Lola Toray. And I often claim I look like my mom. 🙂
my take 