Remembering Lola Feleng

It’s easy for me to eulogize my maternal grandmother. When it comes to describing Felicidad Paras Manaloto—”Mamang” to her children—there is more than enough to fill up a page.

Lola, “grandma” in Filipino, was a woman ahead of her time, a true embodiment of the female spirit: nurturing, graceful, intelligent, selfless, fierce, steadfast, tenacious, and ever generous. The Capampangan that she was, Lola was also known for her topnotch cooking, at one point owning Feleng’s Café in our hometown of Angeles City.

As for being fierce, hardworking, and tenacious, two things come to mind: The first was a story that she told me that during the war, she created a makeshift oven out of a biscuit can and made little cakes to sell to Japanese soldiers. She would also take the bus from Angeles to Manila and proceeded to peddle these goods to provide for her family.

The second is that Lola raised all of her eight children (a ninth one passed away as a baby) to be equally tenacious, hardworking, and dedicated no matter the setting. Chores were de rigeur in her household. My own mother recalls being assigned to clean the pig and chicken pens in the morning, and for many years, her hands had that faint smell of poultry when she went to school. Other siblings had their bits to do at home too, or contributions to the family.

When the family’s finances ran dry from my grandfather’s long, lingering illness, food and resources became scarce. My mother was the youngest among three girls and she and my uncle Tito Al, the youngest of the five boys, were among those who took the hit of this hardship, wearing old clothes and going to school with holes in their shoes. But if you talk to Mom, she would say hands down when it was good, it WAS GOOD—food was abundant; clothes were tailor-made. Lola was generous to the core. (I think that’s where my mom gets her unwavering generosity too.) And no matter what, Lola and her husband, Lolo Benjamin, put a premium on education; everybody went to good schools.

A True Love Story
I never met my grandfather Benjamin. He passed away over thirty years ago, shortly before I was born. I hear that he was a calm, loving presence who especially doted on his daughters. Lola was equally a devoted and loving wife who catered to her husband’s needs down to his dying breath. Lolo Ben was Lola’s one true love. I say this because she never remarried. I now wear their wedding ring from 1949.

Their love story is quaint and sweet; a memento from another time. Lolo, who was from the next town, rented space where Lola’s family resided. When he became a potential suitor, she wasn’t interested—she couldn’t be bothered; she was a busy woman.

One day, while at the clothesline hanging laundry, Lolo Ben walked up to Lola Feleng and kissed her on the cheek. An aunt spotted the two so they had to get married, stat. Remember, this back in the day, of a different time, so wed they did.

That marriage lasted 30 years.

After Lolo’s passing, Lola threw herself at church activities, becoming a secular Carmelite (currently known as the Ordo Carmelitarum Discalceatorum Saecularis, or OCDS), wearing her brown scapular daily for as long as I can remember.

She also became the default caregiver of whoever needed help in our family. When her children and their respective spouses needed space and time to find their footing, they dropped their kids off at Lola’s. A handful of us grandchildren lived with her at some point growing up, at varying times. She was always, always generous with her love, food, time, and her nurturing. These times remain vivid in my mind.

This is my two younger brothers and I with our grandma whom we affectionately call ‘Lola’ (just means grandmother in Filipino). For a while our Lola (and my Mum) basically raised us on their own while our Dad was overseas working. She cooked for us, cleaned up after us, disciplined us when necessary, protected us but most of all she instilled values in us as kids that shaped the way we are now as adults. Sadly, this morning we were told that she passed away. She had been sick in hospital with pneumonia. I was lucky enough to see her one last time on a recent trip back to the Philippines just a couple of weeks ago. Her body had been failing her for a while but every morning when I went to say hello to her she would hold my hands and just look at me. I could see in her eyes that her mind was still very much there. She has gone through a lot in her life. More than I can ever tell at any one sitting. She was and will always be one of the strongest people I will ever know. I’m at ease with knowing that she’s no longer suffering but right at this moment my heart hurts so much knowing she’s gone. At the time of her passing she was with our loved ones back in the Philippines. She was 90 years old. I miss you so much, Lola. I wish was there for you. Rest in peace.

A photo posted by Miguel Morales (@miguelmoralespt) on Feb 3, 2015 at 1:44am PST

My cousin Miguel’s IG post.

Living with Lola

Lola went to the market on a regular basis, very early in the morning. Some nights, I’d asked her at bedtime, “Lola, are you going to the market tomorrow?” And she would reply, “Yes, what would you like from there?” Then I would tell her. Usually it would be puto or maybe occasionally, kutsinta (local sticky rice flour cakes). When I woke up for breakfast, there was puto and kutsinta on the table.

Years after I would learn that even when she didn’t plan to go to the market, she would go anyway whenever I’d asked her so she could buy these treats.

Even when I no longer lived with her, Lola never stopped showering me with love and treats. She had this old wooden baul [storage chest] where she kept blankets and sheets. I was fond of this sort of treasure chest that every now and then, when Mom and I would visit, I asked Lola for a blanket for me to keep. She had one made out of thick old flour sacks sewn together; laundered, bleached, and softened to perfection. Perhaps in my subconscious, seven-year-old mind, it was like bringing her warm hugs home with me.

It’s family lore that I was her favorite grandchild. I think this was purely circumstantial given that Mom had me when she was young so she was still finishing school and working at the same time, so I got to spend A LOT of time with Lola. And it wasn’t just me. My cousin Jacque also spent a big chunk of her growing years living with our grandmother, although it is true that Lola treated us differently.

Whereas she babied and coddled me with grandmotherly love, she bestowed up Ate [“big sister”] Jacque a tougher kind of love—reprimanding her easily, training her with chores, being a strict presence. But I know it was all done with love and out of love, and at the end of the day, she loved us both equally and fiercely. And Ate Jacque knows that as well. Our grandmother equipped us with the kind of love and nurturing that we needed to grow up to be the people that we are now.

One time, Lola was exasperated from Ate Jacque and I quarrelling, she threatened to pack her bags and leave us. We begged her not to. Sometimes we bickered so much that Lola offered to give us both knives. Did I mention, Lola had a wicked sense of humor?

Funny ’Til the End

Even in her passing, Lola was generous, smart…and funny. In my selfish New Yorker way, it feels as if she personally said, “You wanna escape that brutal winter? Okay, here you go.” I wrote the first draft of this post on the plane en route to Manila.

My mother’s sister, Tita Annie, recalls this story from when her kids were growing up. They were in the living room watching a game show. The host asked, “Who created Superman?” Lola, who was in the room, immediately knew the answer. (Just Googled this, per Wiki, the Superman character was created by writer Jerry Siegel and artist Joe Shuster.)

In the last five years, Lola’s physical being has followed nature’s course. Yet, she remained sharp, witty, and hilarious, even in her last few months when she would slip in and out of lucidity.

Ate Jacque recently had this conversation with Lola:

J: “Lola, do you know how old you are?”
L: “No.”
J: “You’re ninety years old.”
L: “Is that good enough?”

Lola passed away on February 3, 2015 from pneumonia resulting in a cardiac arrest. I was told that she left us smiling and looking peaceful. She died on her own terms, in the way she would wanted to leave her physical body: quickly, quietly, no-nonsense, and unimposing. She was to turn 91 this February 21 but it looks like she’s decided to reunite with her husband and be with God and our other family members.

There are many, many more stories to tell. So many pictures to look back on. Anecdotes to share. Lola’s legend and spirit live on.