meeting his mother

technically, you can say that i met his mother only last night. but i've come across his mother a million of times since we got together.

from him you'd hear stories abot this amazing woman who'd be up and about really early but never steps outside of her unprepared to meet people. she's a voracious reader, not of sappy paperback novels that i'm so fond of, but of business books which presumably teach the rich on how they could be even richer. she's a strong woman who has kept the family intact, intact enough that even if all of them are above the age of 25 and 2 of her children live with her in nueva ecija and one lives in qc and the other in paranaque they all still meet up for lunch every sunday to catch up and have their weekly family meeting. she's the godly woman who has ingrained in her children fear of god and the necessity of sunday mass no matter how smashed you've been the night before and have every plans of getting smashed again.

from my favorite aunt (and ninang!) you'd hear stories of this matriarch who controls her kingdom with an iron fist. she's a woman who knows her cars and drives around a mean cefiro. they're quite rich and moneyed, my aunt told me once, and so don't come running to me when they start looking down on you. basically it's the picture of a monster she's painted and i got really scared.

from common friends i've heard the mommy stories: the woman who'd accommodate you in her house in a heartbeat and prepare fresh towels for everyone after they've braved the north expressway traffic. she's a simple woman, very generous and very kind. she's soft-spoken but when she speaks, everyone listens.

and, oh a warning -- they all said -- if she doesn't like you at all, then you'd better kiss jay goodbye.

so yesterday, with barely an hour's worth of sleep (and that's after you've put together the naps i've managed to have throughout the day) i got to meet his mother.

yup, surprise meeting. a meeting i was totally unprepared for.

he SMSd saying that he'll be going over at his sister's house for early dinner. can he hitch a ride back to UP with me?

sure, no problem.

at quarter to six he called and asked if i was awake. was i ready to pick him up?

sure, no problem.

five minutes later he SMSd again asking if i'd want to eat dinner.

sure, no problem. i'm on my way. where are we eating?

the car flew over the hump when i read his next message: "d2. d2 lahat cla. d2 mami"

i was five minutes away from his sister's house, my hands were clammy, my deodorant threatened NOT to work, and there was no way i could turn back. i presumed he's told everyone i was coming so there was no way for me the make up an excuse like "my brother borrowed the car" or "there was a family emergency".

i barely remember anything from the twenty or so minutes we were there. i do remember shaking her hand and kissing her cheek. i remember peppering my sentences with "po" and "opo" and smiling a whole lot. i remember we talked about her having married young and how she loves the silence in nueva ecija. i don't remember how i managed to eat alone in front of his entire family with people sending a curious glance or two along my away every so often. i don't remember whether i remembered to sit up straight or be polite or not to rush through my dinner.

but what else could i say? i had hurdled the last obstacle. i met the mom.