A Pedestal For Mellie

The Blog Rounds 16th Edition has called for us to bring forth into the spotlight heroes that we don't normally recognize in our daily lives -- the unsung heroes if you prefer -- those people who just fly by under the radar, and well, make things a little bit better in this world.

My "unsung" hero, shouldn't be unsung in the first place. In fact, to me she isn't and is at the same time. Why, you ask? Well she is on that pedestal as a hero in my life, but at the same time, I can never give her enough thanks, praise and appreciation for everything she has done, making her unsung in a hero kind of way.

It's no secret. My mother is a hero.

Not a knock on him, but my dad has his own points, but my siblings and I have always been drawn more to our mother. Yes, one could make the argument again that I should think of some other person who deserves recognition in the true unsung nature like, uhm, the garbage collectors who keep our streets clean, or the teachers that impart actual knowledge in and out of the classroom, and the like, but still, no matter how much I actually think (I actually did try), there isn't anyone with that stature in my life other than my mom.

She is the youngest of all 9 siblings (if I counted correctly, haha), and was brought up with less than what we have now (understatement, IMO). But that early on, my Lola Beatriz and Lolo Imoy stressed the value of finishing school. Back then, they had the market (selling meat) as their main source of income. She would tell us how lucky we are today because back in her day (yup, all you mothers out there do that) she had to go to the market to help, and sold plastic bags sometimes to add to her baon.

My mother finished Bachelor of Science in Accountancy at Silliman University cum laude after considering for other courses like Nursing, Math, among others (though she told me just recently before leaving for this review, that she had wanted to be a doctor, but was shot down almost immediately because of the finances. So added incentive to pass the boards for my mom.). Yes, she is smart. Her hands dance all over the calculator computing taxes, or balancing her day's work. How she can say that balancing all the numbers on the spreadsheets is easy is beyond me.

She took a job as a teller at the Bank of the Philippine Islands Dumaguete Branch and stayed there until last year, which is a good 30+ years. She was offered officership but declined it because of the chance that she'd be far away from us. Who would keep us on the straight and narrow? Ask all clients that trusted her, I don't think they'd have a bad word to say about the effort she gave in everyday. She doesn't have a blemish on her bank record -- no outrageous shorts, and any discrepancies she always found out where the money was. I remember one time, the employees were on strike, and I was like 6 or 7 years old, and she called us up crying because she couldn't come home because the strike would take them until the next day. That is my mom.

While she worked at the bank, she kept the family business going as well, selling meat at the market. She is as good a businesswoman as she is a mom. Stern, fair, and teachy. I should know. She made us help out early at the market like they did, and I'm thankful for it. She treats every customer like gold. Fairly. I don't think she's ever done anything wrong for any customer that came up and bought meat from us. If ever the meat has a bit more fat than the usual, she'd say honestly that she'd find something else for you. That's how my mother is. But work is work at the market, even we weren't spared from the proverbial lashings behind the kilos of meat hanging from the rings. I smile and thank her for that because, I'd like to think I work like her or try to, at least.

Her typical day before she retired from the bank last year? Wake up at around 5:30 am. Change and go to the market. At around 8:30 am, she'd literally be running home, eat really fast, grab a quick shower and change to rush to the bank where she spends the day, sometimes coming home for an hour-long lunch break at most. She comes home as early as 6 pm or as late as 11 or 12 midnight, after which she eats dinner, balances the books from the market and goes to bed to do it again the next day. She barely even takes a bathroom break, which I've talked to her about, but workaholic that she is, just won't give in. You can add in, doing homework with us when we were kids, or keeping us in line when we come home late without permission or do something wrong, running the household, you'd think she was Superwoman, but no, she's my mom.

She also had stints in teaching accountancy at Foundation University in Dumaguete City but gave it up once she had us. She gives up her wants and needs and always places us first. She'd be wearing her faded khaki shorts to my new pants, and she'd always appreciate it when I'd end up choosing a nice-looking shirt for me and my brother. Though it's my dad that dominates the microphone during sing-a-longs, she can carry a tune, and can dance as well. She'd always have some food ready when I have friends over at the house, even if I tell her don't bother.

She is married to my dad, who is nearly retired as a bank manager, and has three wonderful kids. My brother, a brilliant computer engineer (underachieving at the moment, bro, but you'll get through it), a soon-to-be bank manager sister, and a graduate of medicine. She has even helped some of my cousins through school.

She is quietly brilliant and humble in what she has done, probably thinking of us as her achievements, and is content to stay behind the scenes -- all of which I see in the significant other in my life.

To all of you parents out there, there comes a time when you have to listen to your kids, too. And in my case, my mom listens but hardly follows what I say even if I've already graduated med school (Haha). (It's called the Doctrine of Superior Knowledge, Ma, don't bend at the waist, you know you have a bad back).

To all you parents, yes, you end up kind of unsung to other people but never to the people that matter -- to your sons, daughters, husbands, wives.

My mother is unsung in so many ways.

But not to my brother, my sister, and not to me.

She is my hero.

Superwoman