THE EIGHTH OF HEAVEN

January 8th is fast approaching and it reminds me of the death anniversary of my mother, Esperanza who died of unnatural causes in the hospital -- De Los Santos Clinic. That time I felt the warm sympathies of friends all over the world, from the United States to the Middle East and I am thankful once again of everyone out there for having been there when my family and I needed them most.

I keep a small altar for the mementoes of my mother, her pictures when she was still young about twentyish and in her eighties smiling brightly to her grand grand child. My mother, tubong Nueva Ecijana, was a very brave woman. At about midnight, one time, someone threw a stone on our rooftop. She came out in her nightcoat with a 2" x 2' wood ready to pounce on the erring boor. Luckily she did not find one, or otherwise, we would have spent the morning explaining to the police at the station afterwards.

What a way to spend the beginning of the year on a death note, but you see this is also the birthday of the grandfather of my children, Eugenio, the first. He worked and retired from the Bangko Sentral and again suddenly died at the Makati Medical Hospital while confined there. He was a handsome fellow, very thorough, and caring of my children when I was in Europe in the eighties educating myself on what is freedom (at that time, our country was under Martial Law, the dark Marcos years and funny how until now, the stolen funds have not been returned), and what is the so-called women's movement. My children are now reaping the result of that stay as they are survivors, very tough individuals and knowledgeable about finances, so necessary for existing on this earth. Their grandfather and grandmother, Fidela taught them how to prepare themselves -- shaping their personal habits -- before going to school. And when I came back from Europe, not wanting to disturb their educational momentum, I shuttled to Binan, Laguna every weekend to fetch them and make them experience being with my mother and stepfather, who helped me rear them from infancy especially during that period when my former husband was incarcerated for being a "subversive."

Hence,Folks, this is why the number eight is very significant for me, the lives of two of close peoples in my life make me recall them all the time.

Yesterday, I was feeling the doldrums, especially after seeing someone who resembled someone occupying a very important seat in the peace process in this world. And I had thought of eternity and immortality. It's so funny I started asking, what is the significance of all these political involvements when we become dust after all is said and done.

But wait, there is still another eight, March eighth, the birthday of my son, Eugenio Zigmundo the third, and of course International Women's Day. when I chose to be operated on to give birth to him, I just chose it at random and voila after all it was a day to be reckoned for all ages. This was why, upon returning from Europe, I proposed the creation of that day as a holiday to be celebrated as International Women's Day in our country through our organization Makamasa (Makabayang Kababaihan ng Masa) which was expanded to Women's Month by Remedios Rikken during her tenure as an official of the National Commission on the Role of Filipino Women and who is now in the roster of administrators under the present dispensation.

How time flies indeed. I do hope that this year 2011 shall bring us to the eighth heaven of prosperity, development and peace for all peoples. So be it.