...I still ended up going to the wedding with neither a trace of face powder on me nor the “opportunity” to brush my hair. But then again I realized it’s not my day and it’s not about me.
A friend of mine suddenly went on a crash diet a month ago. “Who’s rolling out the red carpet for you?” I jeered her. She told me her friend’s wedding was coming up so she had to fit perfectly into the ecru dress she bought for the event. That sent me diving into my own bottomless pit of useless ideas about what to wear to my friends’ wedding. Nevermind the mommy pouches here and there that I knew I would not be able to get rid of if I ate a leaf for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for four weeks.
The last time I attended a wedding was a few years ago and I was dressed down in my office attire. No make-up, no pressure. I was with Gigi, right before she marched down the aisle and I vividly remember giving her a virtual peck on the cheek. We were seas apart and I took on the role of a virtual guest slash best friend who wouldn’t miss that particular wedding for a free ticket to the world of unicorns.
I realized that going to a wedding is a Herculean challenge. Others go on killer diets months before the big event; engage in an eternal dress-hunt; decide on the kind of make-up to use; practice the perfect look for the photos. It’s a demand I simply could not put up with. I tried by imagining doing everything that I mentioned above and fantastically failed.
I managed to find me the perfect dress (read: comfortable) and a pretty five-inch peep-toes to go with it just a few days before the wedding. But the night before Ryan and Mavi’s wedding, I rolled in bed with a nasty cold and fever. Our Ryan+Mavi day started out with my husband running out to attend to an emergency task at work. Then we got lost and went to the wrong church. On our way there, Attika decided it was a good day to barf in the taxi so she did. Since we were racing against time, I brought Attika’s house in a diaper bag but forgot to slip in a face powder and hair brush.
When I saw the bride’s mother approaching us, I wanted to run out the door knowing that I was wearing baby puke. But instead, I stood there in a state of panic not knowing what she thought as we hugged and kissed.
No matter how our day began, the rest of it unfolded beautifully. Theirs was a lovely intimate wedding held at the Romanesque St. Pancratius Chapel at the Paco Park, Manila.
I was honored beyond words when Ryan and Mavi asked me to speak at their wedding. I guess the ten minutes I spent getting worked up about how I’d look at the wedding (four weeks prior to the event) was caused by thoughts of me standing in front of people doing a speech. I still ended up going to the wedding with neither a trace of face powder on me nor the “opportunity” to brush my hair. But then again I realized it’s not my day and it’s not about me. My family and I were asked to be part of a wonderful celebration and our duty was to be there to give love and have fun. We sure did.
As for the five-inch peep toes…they stayed home. Here’s a glimpse of our memorable Ryan+Mavi day.
Last May 2, Cole gave me a beautiful artwork (oil pastel on paper) as a gift for Mothers’ Day. He wasn’t even sure when that day is celebrated, but since he’s been hearing about it, he decided to give me a surprise. He wrote a heartwarming poem in his painting that ended with, “…and everyday I will give the world to mom.”
I can remember him once asking why he hasn’t heard of a “brothers’ day”. I told him what I considered was the truth, so the kid wouldn’t feel bad about not being “celebrated”. I don’t know about other cultures but the Philippines for sure is carnivalesque in the celebration of mothers’, fathers’, grandparents’, and of course, Valentine’s Day. Brothers’ day is yet unheard of but I’m quite certain it won’t be long until a marketing plan will brew somewhere and the media (and the malls) would promptly tell us about it. In that conversation, his father told him that while it’s great that there are celebrations like mothers’ day, it’s very important to remember to celebrate family every single day. The message: never take any of the people around you for granted.
I believe that’s where the “everyday” in his poem came from. As a mother, it delights me so to get surprises from Cole, especially if they’re artwork because he’s not only honing his skills in the arts, he also embraces the values we taught him about gift-giving. A real gift has no price tag attached to it.
No Mothers’ Day?
It sounds like a cruel request initially, but the call to boycott Mothers’ Day is geared towards raising awareness about maternal mortality. “Every Mother Counts”, a maternal health advocacy founded in 2010 by Christy Turlington Burns, reports that there are 360,000 women around the globe who die each year due to complications in pregnancy and childbirth.
With the campaign, Burns hopes to let everyone see “the absence that a woman leaves behind” after dying during childbirth. To those who are willing to give a day to the mothers who have passed on; those they left behind; those who are yet to find out what cause maternal deaths and how they happen; those who want to help make a change in the lives of women, mark May 13 on your calendars as No Mothers' Day. Make your absence be felt by not texting or calling, e-mailing, sending gifts to other mothers, and not updating your status (the latter was emphasized in one of the campaign materials for reasons we all know).
The simple move will help give some attention to maternal health, and hopefully, changes could be done especially that 90% of the cases are said to be preventable.
Spread the word. This is also a good time to teach kids that Mothers’ Day is not about the gifts, the mall, or special dinners outside the home.
Mothers’ Day should be celebrated every day.
Please watch this video to learn more.
Oil pastel on paper by Niccolo Sebastian
No Cole, YOU are my source of inspiration.
If I said 'thank you', that would never be enough. If we bought you another skateboard for being the greatest boy in the entire universe, that would be irresponsible parenting. If I praised you too much you might end up a self-serving jerk. How about if I just solemnly swear to be the most fun mom I could ever be so we could stay best of friends forever?
