Many-splendored Mama
“I learned more about Christianity from my mother than from all the theologians of England.”—John Wesley
“To many, the above holds so true. Counting myself as one of them, I venture to write about my mother.”—Juanita Stuart Topacio
OVAL-FACED Mama was of medium height by Filipino standards, small-boned, with long hair always knotted into a bun. Typical of lasses from her native town of Imus in Cavite, she had semi-chinky eyes and was very fair.
She spoke English and Tagalog as well as fluent Spanish, having been schooled in a convent in Paco, Manila, run by Spanish-speaking nuns. Mama’s mom, my lola, put her in the convent to isolate her from her persistent suitor, Jose Topacio. My lola’s mission proved to be a mission impossible because aggressive Jose was able to whisk Mama off to make her his bride.
As love conquered all, so was our family born… to become a brood of eight children.
Our Papa held the distinction of being the first Filipino director of posts, appointed by then Governor Harrison of the United States. Mama had good reason to be proudly called Mrs. Jose Topacio.
As a child clinging to Mama’s skirt, I did not know that the skirt I was clinging to belonged to a many-splendored being, a diamond, whose lifetime endeavors would lend sparkles to the many facets of her persona as: wife, mother, homemaker, counselor, caregiver, entrepreneur—all rolled into one.
As a wife, she loved Papa dearly and unconditionally, leaving no cause for him to complain of divided attention when it came to all his needs.
As a mother, she and her actions spoke more than a thousand “I love yous” to us. Our happy childhood was based on her constant presence, and with her style of discipline we felt well guided, secure, and well cared for.
In counseling us girls, Mama was not remiss on the matter of the birds and the bees. She spared the boys from any birds-and-bees parables, and prayers were her only recourse to keep her roving boys in line.
Mama was a mother not only to us but to others as well, counseling and helping them in the time of their need, rich and poor alike. “Si Mother,” they called her. No indigent caller ever left the house empty-handed. Mama was a golden girl with a golden heart.
In being a homemaker, to Papa goes the credit of having provided Mama with a complete retinue of household help. But despite her household staff, Mama was not one to sit in a corner to savor her comfy life. Hands on, she would supervise the goings-on, performing chores that required more than just lifting a finger, such as yearly sewing the living room curtains aided by the house costurera.
It was not surprising then that the household male and female help, rubbing elbows often as they moved around doing their chores, would eventually fall in love with each other. For such circumstances, Mama would not be content just to look the other way. She saw to it that their knots were tied nowhere but in a church.
In times of sickness we knew where we belonged—to the infirmary or isolation room, a small room that Mama reserved for the sick, where she did not spare us from the works: thermometer, enemas or purgatives, medicines, body rubs, etc. In sickness and in health, Mama was on duty all the time, making her an ideal caregiver.
She was also an entrepreneur. From household recipes she turned to her formulas for making facial creams, which she produced, packaged and sold in jars, labeling them as “Stuart’s Cold Cream” or “Stuart’s Skin Whitener.” She also made “Stuart’s Pomade” for men. Considering that Mama was into her new endeavor ages ago, we can say that she was a woman ahead of her time.
Surprised were we when at one time Mama brought us to the fishing shores of Navotas, made us board a lancha, a motorized vessel, and informed us that we had, not one, but two of those fishing boats. So Mama was also a “fishing operator”!
After the Japanese occupation, money was very scarce. Rich and poor alike engaged in the business of buying and selling anything under the sun. Halo-halo became a foodie craze then. Mama lost no time in concocting her halo-halo mixtures. She put up a little kiosk in front of our driveway and announced to us girls that we would be in charge of selling the halo-halo. So it was that three Topacio girls became halo-halo vendors overnight, suddenly finding ourselves in such a strange occupation.
At the end of the war, along with the departure of the Japanese forces from Manila, we found ourselves saying goodbye to our Malate home which they had burned to the ground—the very house that they turned into their official residence during their stay. Today three houses stand in place of one grand memorable house, which held so many priceless memories of our parents’ immeasurable love for us.
The years have come and gone but the memory lingers on about a mother who gave all of herself to make one family a happy one.
“From out of the past where forgotten things belong,” time and again the sweet memory of our loving Mama “keeps coming back… like a song.”
Jovita Topacio Ramos, 89, is a graduate of Assumption Convent and Philippine Women’s University. She is a retired entrepreneur and homemaker and counts writing articles and poems, composing songs, painting and cooking as her hobbies.
