How do you describe happy? At the moment I have run out of words. All I can say is that growing a year older, for me, was a spectacular experience.
Gone, at least for a while, were the usual aches and pains that come with age. In fact, I felt a surge of new energy.
That is what love does.
Baguio was on its best behavior. The day dawned gorgeous. We had blue skies and nippy December air. I had a date for lunch with 27 beautiful people, my six children and their families. And although some of my grandchildren were missing, it was an almost magical event.
I was asked to go down to the lobby a little before noon to meet the rest of the gang. When I emerged from the elevator, I was greeted by a wild rendition of the birthday song. The singers all wore identical charcoal gray T-shirts, emblazoned with “Lola Rocks.” Of course, people stared. The lobby was full. But we were too happy and excited to be embarrassed.
That was the start of my incredible day.
The party
Mama’s Table, with its stunning view of the Cordilleras, was the perfect venue. The “home made of glass” on Ambuklao Road is nestled amid tall pines. From the outside, it is not too impressive. It is just a regular big old Baguio house. But when you walk through the front door, it takes your breath away.
It is elegant but welcoming and cozy. It invites you to enter and stay a while. The ambience is celebratory. It tells you, this is a special place, and this is a special occasion.
Their Christmas tree was all lit up, lending its sparkle to my already festive mood. I was almost giddy with happiness. I felt like dancing.
Chef Vicky Tinio Clemente outdid herself. Were I the Quiet Diner, I would award her all my spoons.
We started with delectable appetizers. Lunch was a delicious eight-course degustation. It opened with an exquisite quiche cooked in an eggshell. The broccoli soup garnished with green pinipig was to die for. We had foie gras, beef Wellington, seared salmon with a shot of iced kalamanchello. Dessert was a chocolate beignet, Toblerone ganache wrapped in a crepe served with strawberries and vanilla ice cream. Just remembering adds to my calories.
We played games between courses. We took selfies. It was impossible to run out of photo ops. Both indoors and out, anywhere you posed was picture-perfect.
Back in Country Club at sundown, we sat on the veranda. It was a chilly evening and we ordered hot drinks, and lingered there as long as we could, reluctant to call an end to such a wonderful day.
I went to bed early that night but it was hard to fall asleep. I kept reviewing the events of the day. I realized how complicated it must have been to get everyone on board. I imagined how difficult it probably was for the kids to adjust their schedules, just to celebrate me. But they did.
And it made me feel so special.
Someone once said: “The best gift you can give someone is your time. Because when you do, you are giving them a portion of your life that you will never get back.”
And they gave me not only their precious time, but also their undivided attention. For a whole weekend. No questions.
My heart runs over with gratitude.
More excitement
And now Christmas.
I am slowly settling down to a nonbirthday mood and revving up for Christmas. More excitement.
My first grandchild, her husband and three children have decided not to have a white Christmas in Seattle and have come home. Santino, my 18th, is due in a couple of days from Las Vegas for his first Christmas in Manila.
Can my heart take it all in without bursting with joy?
We are doing things differently this year. We will have Christmas Eve lunch at home instead of the usual Media Noche and open presents way ahead of the traditional midnight visit from Santa. I am sure the little ones won’t mind.
Our menu consists of Spanish cocido, grilled salmon and roast pork tenderloin. Instead of applesauce for the roast, we will have yams with marshmallow topping. Even without turkey, in our house, this is a must; it is part of our holiday tradition.
Do I hear “bah humbug?”
At a recent year-end gathering, one lady was overheard saying, “I am not interested in Christmas anymore. I am too old for that whole exercise. Besides, there is no peace on earth!”
But Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. Doesn’t she know that? Has she forgotten? I try to remind her.
And I remember what American author Robert Fulghum wrote in his bestseller, “All I Know I Learned in Kindergarten.”
“I know what I really want for Christmas. I want my childhood back. Nobody is going to give me that. I might give at least the memory of it to myself if I try. I know it doesn’t make sense, but since when is Christmas about sense, anyway? It is about a child, of long ago and far away, and it is about the child of now. In you and me. Waiting behind the door of our hearts for something wonderful to happen. A child who is impractical, unrealistic, simpleminded and terribly vulnerable to joy.”
I want that, too.
