Because you were there. No, you always are.

Let me tell you a story about Nanay.

People call her Ate Ella. Or Ate Lya (Atel-ya) without any flirt diction. She loves gardening, orchids, dogs, cute curtains, making her own Christmas lanterns and decorating her own Christmas tree using real branches from fallen trees outside the house. She's creative, strong, patient and loving. She cooks the best adobo and makes the best banana float ever. Her family, as far as I know, was originally from Visayas. She's the second wife of my mom's dad, Lolo Ano. The first one, Lola Lina died of breast cancer when my mom was 7 or 8. Nanay and Lolo didn't have any children. And I feel so lucky that in spite of that, she didn't turned out to be some sort of a villain-ish step mother to mom and aunt.

Since birth my grandparents were the ones who took care of me (and my sister). They were the ones who brought me to and fetch me from school. Nanay was always present in PTA meetings. She was the one who's there during my first communion and confirmation. Then I grew up. Went to high school. Lolo passed away. Ate went to college. And it was you, Nay, who've always been there for me. You were the one who wakes me up for school. You get up early to cook breakfast, boil water so I can take a bath without feeling cold, iron my school uniform, prepare my baon for lunch. All those years, you acted like my real mom. And I miss that. I miss you Nanay. I am always praying for you.