X Is Not about the Past

Once I worked in a big advertising agency in the country named DYR (Dentsu, Young and Rubicam-Alcantara).  It was a merger between the biggest ad agency in Japan (Dentsu), the biggest ad agency in the US (Young and Rubicam) and its local partner, Alcantara. 

The partnership ended in the early 2000s. The new boss pressured me to specify December 31 as my resignation effectivity, otherwise I won’t get my full separation pay. It was only September, and I told him I had a four-month accumulated leave. It’d be forfeited if I didn’t take it. He shrugged. So right then and there, I decided to exit without a whimper.  

I was head of several units, but there was no chance to say good-bye to everyone: they were busy chasing  deadlines or on a client call.   

After the organization formally closed, someone created a group chat called XDYR. For years, peers in the well-knit company kept in touch and would meet quarterly for dinner and chats. I missed all those events because then, I didn’t want to compromise Tony’s comorbidity. 

With Tony gone, I joined them for the first time in November. About 30 of us met at JT’s Manukan Grille (their usual haunt) in Makati. I was relentlessly chided for disappearing like a smoke. Except for change of hair color and deep laugh lines, everyone seemed like they froze in time. The blustery jokes and boisterous laughter were exactly as I remember them. 

All 25 years vanished, but new topics of conversation emerged—grandchildren and retirement. 

Long-long, the hero in my latest book, “Ready, Set, Focus” arrived with his wife and he gamely posed for photographs, duplicating the cover. 

Every DYR department seemed represented: Media, Account Management, Audio-Visual, HR, Art Studio, Maintenance, and Services.  

That night, I did NOT travel back in time.  X in DYR means grace for today and every day thereafter. 

What a Difference a Year Makes

Has it been a year? Yesterday, I fussed over the things I would bring to our 81st annual reunion. 

It was the same scenario a year ago. But the packed bag stayed put—and got unpacked later in the afternoon. That day last year replays in slomo in my mind today. But the anxiety has been replaced by a quiet resolve to keep going.

Tony then had difficulty breathing even with slight exertion. He had decided to stay home but was insistent for me, the boys, and my sister Aie to go. I had to quickly plan a ruse—and to his surprise I stayed. Then Sammy (our driver) and I rushed to buy him a wheelchair. He and Judge, our pet dog,  couldn’t understand what it was for.  

Mother Teresa, Sammy, and I begged him to please use it; he did for a few minutes to humor us, but decided to simply lie down and read a book. And the next day . . . 

This bag is finally going to that reunion—a chance to bond with nieces, nephews, and grandkids.

  

The oldies are now all having another reunion in eternal land. On tierra firma, they are replaced by me and some of my cousins who are still ambling along.  

Only one third of the clan population will be there (from Dec. 30 to Jan. 1) because of diaspora. But our number is enough to call it a crowd. This, my mom’s side of the family, is huge. 

There, we will soak in the grace of laughter to end the year and start a new one.

"Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." 1 Peter 5:7 NIV

Three Mateos in One

All my three sons are coffee connoisseurs or experts. They deeply appreciate and understand the subtle qualities of coffee.  I overhear them talking about flavor profiles, bean types, roast levels, and brewing methods. Duh. 

I drink only three-in-one. It’s a convenient mix of instant coffee, sugar, and creamer pre-blended and packed in single-serving sachets. I simply need to add hot water and I have my coffee! Fast and easy. 

My three-Mateos-in-one was just as fast and easy.   

While writing the first book in the Oh, Mateo! series (total of 16 books to date), I needed a Filipino name for the little hero. I didn’t have to look far. My dad, my brother, and my brother’s son are all Mateos.

At that time, I wasn’t thinking of a series, but that first book, The Boy Who Had five Lolas, won first prize in the Palanca Awards. I wrote a second one, Apo Mayor, using the same character. Guess what. It won another Palanca first prize the following year. And so Mateo went on . . . and on . . . and on. 

Last week, my sis Aie sent photos of the three Mateos that she salvaged from the monstrous flood that damaged our ancestral home. “Look, manangest!*” she wrote. “Your three Mateos.”  

(Left to right) My dad had long gone home. My brother Mateo Jr. is now a senior citizen, and Mateo III is running a thriving family business. 

Twenty four years is a long time, but the Mateo in my books is still the adventurous, smart,  and God-fearing eight-year-old who, as a role model, is helping shape Christian values among readers. 

In the Bible (the scripture of my faith), the first book in the New Testament is Matthew (Mateo in Filipino), which presents Jesus as the Messiah and King, fulfilling Old Testament prophesies to establish the "Kingdom of Heaven.” It details Jesus' birth, ministry, miracles, and teachings as Emmanuel (God with us). In Matthew, Jesus, the promised King, issues a universal call to make disciples of all nations.

ooo

*Manangest is the superlative form (our family group chat invention) of manang, an Ilocano honorific for older female.  I happen to be the oldest of the brood, see? 

Christmas: Unchanging Joy

For the first time in 55 years, I (and my family) am celebrating Christmas without Tony. Should I wallow in grief? 

Not. 

Christmas joy must prevail. It is rooted in the unchanging nature of God and the timeless message of Jesus' birth, love, and salvation, rather than fleeting earthly circumstances or emotions. 

Grace has taught me, as a believer in Scripture, that unlike temporary happiness, which is dependent on things like gifts, perfect family dynamics, or positive conditions, true joy is a stable, internal state that endures. Regardless of life's dark seasons, Jesus is. He is "the same yesterday and today and forever" (Hebrews 13:8). 

For me, the foundation of this Christmas joy is immune to the shifting shadows of life. It is a reminder of God's enduring faithfulness and promises. 

The Christmas message is timeless: that God sent His Son to offer hope, love, peace, and salvation to all people. It changes not from years of bad news and devastation getting worse every day. 

While Christmas 2025 involves a roller-coaster of my emotions, the underlying joy is constant because it connects to divine love and presence of God made accessible through Jesus' birth. 

Our family Christmas traditions continue: 

Son #3 prepares the turkey and go-withs, aided by mother Teresa . . . I do the turkey booties . . . son #2 and family send a fiesta feast good for a mob . . . son #1 serves a spread of charcuterie (gift from a friend) on the dining table, takes photos, and munch on a drumstick . . . Aie is always a supportive and affirming presence . . . we all pig out (this year on a new dining table in a newly renovated 48-year-old house).

Then I shriek with hysteria over my new Bible and books plus other presents . . . I sob over a now defunct tradition of Tony grinning widely, receiving his new Prince Valiant book from son #1 (I can dwell on that forever as a memory) . . . I go to bed before midnight; and finally . . . 

We each thank the newborn King, the risen Savior, personally during our quiet moments before a restful night to wake up to new blessings on Christmas day.

Merry CHRISTmas!

Performative Male?!

Now as old as the hills, I am still constantly enabled by grace to learn something new and surprising every day. 

I borrowed this photo from Mark because my book, The Teacher in Me, is in one hand and matcha on the other. My advocacy is for young people to love reading the printed page. 

But when I saw him in church, he explained that the photo was about being a performative male. 

"What’s that?"  

He tried to explain, but I couldn’t understand a word. The many young people around us giggled. 

Then one of them, Carla, sent me later an article to explain it.  

Further research opened my ears and eyes. It originated from J.L. Austin's concept of "performative utterances" but has evolved into a modern social media archetype.  It describes men curating a persona to attract women, who reject “toxic masculinity” because they prefer sensitive souls that: listen to evocative music, read specific books, carry tote bags with feminist slogans, wear certain t-shirts,  drink matcha, and adopt an aesthetic look, even with zero interest in them.  

“Performative male” is viewed as a fake portrayal of real values, but done only to project an image of a “nice guy" who is politically aware. 

Knowing Mark, an active youth leader in church, with various ministries (a real nice guy) and who reads the good Book, I realized the photo is just one of his jokes, a satire, so to speak. I have never doubted his being a sensitive soul. As a playful jokester, he finds ways to make people (like me) smile and laugh. 

 

Thank you Lord for blessing us with a vibrant, enthusiastic youth group in our church. We who are in our twilight years are assured that those whom we will leave behind will be focused, not on themselves or the world, but solely on You. Amen.  

Saturday Nights Year Six

From Reuben Tribe, our church’s small group’s name was changed to Kalye Gamaliel. based on the new curriculum. 

In the Bible, Gamaliel was a highly respected Pharisee, Jewish law expert, and member of the Sanhedrin, the Jewish high court (Book of Acts). He was known for his wisdom, lenient approach to the law, and for being the teacher of Saul (who later became Apostle Paul). 

As a mentor of Saul of Tarsus (Acts 22:3), he taught lenient approach to the law. When the Sanhedrin wanted to execute the apostles for preaching Jesus, Gamaliel urged moderation:

“So my advice is, leave these men alone. Let them go. If they are planning and doing these things merely on their own, it will soon be overthrown. But if it is from God, you will not be able to overthrow them. You may even find yourselves fighting against God!” Acts 5:38 NLT 

His principles encouraged discernment: first processing and assessing new movements of people and events before acting rashly against them. In our language today, “Chill!” “Chllax!” What a coincidence that our facilitator is a lawyer (son #3).  

Back to our Saturday Nights—from Kalye Gamaliel, our name might change again, based on a newer curriculum. But the essence of our small group remains—camaraderie and enthusiasm over food, laughter, chats, testimonies, praises, and most importantly, gaining deeper insights into and discernment of the Lord’s message to us.  

Our Saturday nights teem with grace.

Gift of Time

“Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.” Ecclesiastes 3:11

At no time in the history of cosmetics have women been more vocal about looking younger and prettier than today.

Beauty products that are focused on looks for women, and even for men, have become multi-billion-dollar businesses. Never before have there been more gyms and spas to make people feel good about themselves.

Beauty clinics have likewise been ultra lucrative. Every day, there is someone undergoing surgery or treatment for bigger eyes, a higher nose bridge, firmer breasts, and whiter skin – and talking about it in ads or to friends.

“Take 10 years off your face,” one ad says. By eliminating eye bags, wrinkles, sagging jowls and the telltale signs of aging, one can indeed look younger.

But Mark Twain said this about aging: “Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.”

Aging is part of life as God designed it. We cannot stop it or deny it. We can have all the surgeries, cosmetics, herbs, and pills available to us today, but time will still tick by. We will grow old. And we will look it and feel it eventually, no matter how much we may try to delay it.

It is best, then, to enjoy the seasons of life – teens, 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, and so on. Let’s delight in the different experiences that our life stages bring. With age comes wisdom and maturity that even the greatest mind of youth cannot begin to imagine.

Lord, thank You for the gift of time. Help me to use it as best as I can according to Your divine plan for my life.

(This post in one of the 365 entries in the devotional Grace Found Me, a recipient of the 2012 Gintong Aklat [Golden Book] Award, Inspirational Category, from the Book Development Association of the Philippines. I decided to revisit it because these days, aging seems to be a sin.) 

When Old Friends Meet: Magical

It took months and hundreds of postponements before this meet-up came through. And when it did, it was magical. 

If only two more (Ms. Yay and Ms. Ciel now both live abroad) were with us, it would have been manna.  

Meet-ups used to be often because we were all colleagues in a university, where students addressed us Ms., and where we each taught different subjects. 

But Ms. Caroline moved to another university, Ms. Ayet and Ms. Rose opted to teach online, and I was left alone teaching one subject F2F once a week. To say it was difficult to have the same free time is an understatement. 

So how did this finally happen? Health break. 

Schools and local governments declared a week-long  holiday because of the outbreak of a flu-like virus (cough and colds) that is highly infectious, with dangers of leading to serious complications.  

And so we created our own definition of health break: have a rare bonding time, reminiscing about the good old days. The laughter, food, and unhurried non-work hours did wonders for our health. 

It was magical!   

Privilege Card

It has become my norm to dine out alone to escape the dust and the grating sounds in our home. Since June, when the renovation of our 48-year-old house started, dust and sounds have been my daily associates. 

Without sounding schmaltzy, I look back to those days before Tony left us for his eternal home in January this year. I never had to dine alone—not at home or outside. 

Today, I had lunch in a resto that bears my name, Mary Grace. When I asked for my tab, the waiter asked, “Ma’am, do you have a privilege card?” 

I pondered that for a few seconds. “Sorry, no, I only have a senior citizen card.” 

He grinned. “That was what I meant, Ma’am. But others get offended with the word senior.” 

LOL. I have embraced the life of a senior from day one. With it comes so many privileges. I get escorted to the comfort room, sales people offer me a seat in a store, security guards open doors for me, traffic policemen help me cross a street, etc. I get preferential treatment in crowded or wide places wherever I go. 

Those are privileges (countless!) that came with my senior citizen card. 

I had written about this in one of books, "What, Me Retire?"  

The day I received my senior citizen card, I had it immediately laminated, and after caressing it, I kept it inside a special space in my cardholder. A week later, after dining in a resto with Tony, the waiter gave us the tab. Tony handed him his senior citizen card. And then . . . with dramatic flourish, I took my own new card and waved it in slomo to the waiter. I heard in my mind a background music swell into crescendo. 

It was a moment of rare privilege and grace.    

A Most Beautiful Event

Beautiful is such a common word that we use it each time we see something that refreshes the eyes. But I am using it here in the context of something that goes beyond what my eyes see--but what my heart and soul feel. 

Baptism.

It is a most beautiful event because it's a public celebration of a person's spiritual transformation and new life in Christ. With deep symbolic meaning, baptism provides an opportunity for me and the community of believers (the church to which I belong) to witness and support the person’s public declaration of faith. 

On our church’s 50th anniversary worship service, two young people were baptized. One of them, Ygo, is the elder son of the couple in whose wedding I was a ninang.  I have likewise seen how this kid grew up into a responsible young man, who decided to openly manifest his faith to a church brimming with witnesses. 

While Christ is his personal decision, baptism is a public, outward expression of that inner commitment to Jesus. Immersion in water symbolizes the death and burial of one's old, sinful life, and rising out of the water represents resurrection to a brand-new life with Christ. (I included an image of the dove as symbol of the Holy Spirit, representing His descent upon Jesus during His baptism and His presence in every baptized Christian.)

The other young man, Ryan, is relatively a new member of our church, but his walk with Jesus was quick, as though he ran all the way to the place where we see our own faith journey and God’s grace. 

This shared experience, as we continue to celebrate with thanksgiving our 50 years guided by our faithful God, strengthens our bonds. 

Following the Savior's example, this obedience is . . . beyond tears of joy and words.