Mother’s Day Celebration

Third day. Tacloban City. The destruction, despite down to a bare minimum, is still present and felt by my people. Still, there are tons of reason to smile and be happy. For one, being alive is one of the best gifts you can receive. Second, Tacloban City is picking up the pieces. My hometown will be complete again in due time.

Yesterday, I went on a mini tour all by myself. I blame my friends’ busy schedule for that. A myriad of new shops shed their light upon my city, particularly milk tea shops which I love so much. We also got our fair share of cafés and/or patisseries. Yes. French pastry shops. Sounds classy, doesn’t it? I didn’t get to visit the shops as I didn’t know where they were. Also, apparently, my Foursquare and Google maps apps just happen to go bonkers that day. Need I say more? Oh and I sweat like a person coming out from the sauna. I probably smelled really awful too. I was alone anyway. No biggie.

Today, on Mother’s Day, the whole family went to Sto. Niño Church to attend the mass. Well, we always go to church on Sundays. A tradition we rarely broke. Sunday Church Day as I like to call it. Sto Niño Church is currently under renovations so masses are held across the street at Rizal Park. Pretty much majority of the buildings in Tacloban City are undergoing renovations. We stood a few feet away from the crowd and found a cozy shade. Even with mommy’s fan and Trixia’s constant babble, the weather was just unbearable. Scorching would be an understatement. The mass was only an hour anyway.

Shakey’s was our choice for lunch. Probably the only sensible choice currently. We were seated upstairs where the noise was not as polluted as downstairs. We got a cozy table near the window. Or door. Or both. Whichever. We had different waiters slash servers. A lady took our order. A guy brought our food. And then a different guy took the bill. Talk about rotation. As for our order, we got mojos and chicken and… wait for it… pizza! Of course we got pizza. It’s a pizza parlor. The lady who took our order, let’s call her “G.” G took our order and suggested we get the special The 1954 Pizza which was specially prepared for Mother’s Day. We tried it. It was good! I was particular of the ingredients, working in a pizza place myself. It had pepperoni, meatballs, rosemary, red onions, and basil. I smirked at myself as I named the ingredients one by one in my head. I gotta commend Shakey’s for a good combination. I wonder if the pizza was only for today. It’d be a shame not to put it on their menu.



Incidentally, I asked mommy for a family picture to serve as my inspiration at work. I’ll claim it tomorrow.

Before we end this blog, some of my friends get to be in it as well. My high school classmates, to be exact. We decided to spend a few hours together, hang-out, and catch up on this crazy little thing we call LIFE. Our venue was Brew Tea Full, a small little café near Uncle Sam’s and K Patisserie. Other choices included, but was not limited to, InfiniTea and ZenTea. Too bad those places are almost always crowded. Apparently, when a city has no more malls, cafés are the next go-to places. We ordered a couple of blended drinks and a huge pack of Lay’s that was not supposed be sour cream-flavored but still was. Our order took almost an hour before we received it fully. Not a good way to spark a first impression. That was overcame by our crazy shenanigans and our seemingly non-stop conversations and laughters. We were the loudest bunch there. Seriously. It felt like a ghost town in there what with all the people busy using their phones like the end of the world is tomorrow. Majority of groups go silent when wiFi is present. Being social has a new definition. Social Media is the new way of being social.


We parted ways eventually. I bought a bouquet of roses before going home. The look on mommy’s face when Trixia and I handed over the flowers was priceless.


Happy Mother’s Day to you, mommy! We love you to the moon and back. And also to all the moms out there. Hope everyone had a wonderful day. I did.


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