My Second Mother

Yes, I have a second mother. And no, she is not a stepmother.

 

I got to know her first as my English 1 teacher on my first year in college. Professor Jovita H. Orara was a very strict teacher. She was like a visiting professor from UP then. My classmates feared her because she would use her UP style of teaching in her classes. But later on, we found her very friendly especially outside the classroom. She was like everybody’s grandma.

 

After the first semester, she was appointed Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. During that time, there was no CAS existing in our school, and that meant that she needed to start her office from scratch.

 

That time, my parents have told me that our finances cannot support my nursing studies anymore because of the expensive tuition fees in our school. I was told that I should transfer to Bulacan State University, and shift to another course, hence I will not be able to continue my college studies. During that time, tuition fees in BSU is very cheap (as compared today) and so affordable especially for less privileged students. I felt terrible then, because I really wanted to finish what I have started, and become a nurse.

 

Having been regarded Professor Orara as a friend, I told her about my dilemma during class cards distribution. She was quick to suggest that I work in her office so that I will not have to pay my tuition fees, so that I could continue my nursing studies.

 

My parents did not object, and I promised to them that I will try my best to balance work and studies in order to graduate in time. They supported my decision and believed that I can pursue the goals I had set for myself.

 

During my stint as a student assistant for Dean Orara’s office, I came to know a lot of things that I still value up to this day. My tight schedules taught me how to value time. I would wake up very early in the morning to study, and prepare for my nursing internship in hospitals. After my hospital duty, I would rush to Dean’s office to do some errands, and some paper works. Later, I would be seen attending my classes until 7pm. I would also accompany Dean Orara home, a trip from Bocaue to Quezon City (where she lived), and back, on Mondays and Wednesdays. I would be home by 9 to 10 pm.

 

Ma’am O (I got used to calling her this way) also taught me how to become organized.  I absorbed her system in running her office. I made sure memos were signed by receiving persons, corrected even the smallest typographical errors, and made sure files were labeled and in order. I was made to manage a small library, which further improved my organizing skills.

 

I was made to deal with people more often. I was a timid person initially, but got over it after I dealt with different kinds of people as part of my work. I helped in the enrollment process where I got to deal with students. I assisted teachers with their work. I circulated memos. I was made to visit teachers in their respective towns. I was introduced to the UP community. I got to watch quality movies, stage plays, and ballet performances.

 

My values enriched as she taught me a lot of life lessons. She would tell me stories about her struggles in life and how I should get inspiration from hurdles and impediments. She trained me to become a strong person, enduring the sometimes harsh realities of life.

 

After graduating, I was then absorbed by the same office as an Office Assistant. Later on, I found a nursing job, and I found it difficult to leave the place. But even after leaving my office work, Ma’am O  and I never lost contact and she remained my mentor for life. Whenever I needed to make tight decisions, it was her that I would consult. She considered me as the son that the she never had.

 

She would also call me if she needed some help. And I would always come running at her doorstep. We started a unique friendship. When I went to work abroad, we remained in touch through phones, letters and cards.

 

When I was about to get married, I found it difficult to tell her. I knew I would break her heart, as real mothers would. And break her heart, I did. She felt so sad when I announced my wedding. But I knew that was just an initial reaction. I knew that she was just worried if I was making the right decisions in life, just like any parent would think in that instant.

 

She does not usually attend weddings, unless it is her daughter’s, I know that. But she attended my wedding. Mine was an exception to the rule, ah!

 

Today is her 81st birthday (Nov 15). We celebrated her birthday in her office yesterday, together with her faculty members. I think this is my first time in five years to be in the country for her birthday, so I really made an effort to be present. I bought her a cake from Red Ribbon. She just sent me a text message this afternoon telling me that there has been a lot of food during the day, but yesterday’s cake was still the best, not because of the taste, but because it has full of love. Whew! So inspiring…

 

I owe a lot to Ma’am O and words cannot just measure how much her contribution is to my life. She made me become who I am today and she will be part of who I will be tomorrow. I will forever be grateful for having been blessed with a second mother.

FRIENDS COMICS: A Past Revisited

I have a very imaginative mind as I child. I would make robots out of medicine boxes. I would sculpt figures out of clays. I would draw and write the whole day. I got involved in art competitions and really enjoyed art classes. I never realized that later on my passion in art would connect with another passion, to be able to connect with people.

 

I was 11 years old when I started making my own version of comics. I folded bond papers into two, and stapled it in the middle, just like local genuine comics would do. I would draw girls in flashy clothes for the cover. The contents would include children poems, short stories, comic strips, and other works of fiction, all brought about by my very wild imagination. A friend suggested the name FRIENDS COMICS. And that started it all.

 

I would then let my classmates borrow my masterpiece and would allow them to write anything they want – comments, suggestions, greetings, and sometimes literary contributions. I enjoyed the response I was getting, as my classmates enjoyed the entertaining reading material that I created. It then became a weekly publication. My sister and my neighbor once borrowed the comics and brought it to their schools. Instantly, I had readers outside our school waiting for the following week’s issue.

 

The comics would come back to me full of writings, and almost worn out. I did not mind if the comics came back in poor condition. My intention was to make people happy through my artworks. And I think I was able to do it in my own little way. I would keep the read comics in my drawers until I was able to collect piles of my masterpiece.

 

I continued making comics until I entered high school. I grew up with my readers, and as my readers and I matured, the contents developed as well. The article contributions included older-themed poems, advice columns, watercolor artworks, and even love song lyrics.

 

The use of photocopiers, scanners, digital cameras, computers, and the internet, was not as popular before as it is today. So the limitation in modern technology was a factor in mass-producing a personally-crafted weekly-published comics. My comics remained as a single copy, passed from person to person, until it comes back to me, when everybody has finished reading – and writing their own literary and art contributions. Its being a single-copy-comics had its advantages though, since it allowed my friends to write down on the pages personally, so that the next readers would read what they wrote. The early readers would come back reading the comics again, so that they will be updated on what has been added.

 

The weekly publication was ended by a farewell issue dated March 1992, just before our high school graduation. I wanted to continue it during my college years but my college studies did not permit me to do so, since I took up a very demanding course.

 

Fifteen years after I stopped making comics, I stumbled upon piles of my masterpieces in my old monobloc boxes. As I opened each pages, I started a time travel, and I was brought back into my younger years. How I laughed at my old corny jokes, and artworks as I child!

 

The comics issued when I was in high school were even more interesting. My classmates’ writings and contributions were a reflection of how colorful teenage years were. There were revelations about crushes and even word wars among friends. Two of my friends who have already passed away were made to live again by their writings. Ah, what a way to reminisce! I realized I never lost those joyful times of my childhood, as they are wonderfully inscribed forever in the pages of Friends Comics.

 

And hey, before I forget, I should give credit to my special friend who gave my comics its name – she is now my wife.

If you know Friends Comics and is interested in revisiting the past, visit http://mhphs92.blogspot.com. I started posting scanned pages there. Join me in my time machine! I assure you it will be a very interesting journey!