With the limited time I have left with my grandma, I want to soak up like a sponge as much information about my history as possible. Not knowing where to start, I asked her to pick a topic — to tell me anything she can tell about family history.

I learned that, as much as she doesn’t “expect” much about the future, she doesn’t seem to be one to look back to the past too often. For instance, she says she can’t really remember much about the past except for her experiences during World War 2. I also found it interesting that she doesn’t even know what Papa, my grandfather, did to stay under the radar during the war. I knew that he was in his mid-twenties at that time (as he was 15 years her senior) and that he was forced to separate from his siblings and travel through the islands, even reaching as far north as Baguio. But she has no idea of any of the details of his journey. It appears she never really bothered to ask him or that they just never exchanged, quite literally, war stories.

I thought that was odd. The second world war was such a defining event in their lifetime. It’s as if my husband and I never talked about our experience witnessing 9/11. It certainly isn’t pillow talk but it seems like the stuff you would have talked about during courtship, no?

Contrary to what I initially thought, that my great-grandfather made his own fortune, I learned her father was born well-off. Indeed he grew his wealth later, but he certainly did not start out poor. Her mother was also pretty well-off, their family had a lot of land, but not as wealthy as my great-grandfather. As a result, my Mama always had a financially comfortable life. Socially, her family was always among Iloilo’s traditional elite, or the “old rich” as we say today. Quite naturally, both her husband’s were scions of wealthy, distinguised, land-owning families.

Mama’s upbringing carries over to the way she is with us, her family. She always made sure we had all the luxuries and comforts she could afford. Maybe even to a fault (but I won’t go there right now). She may not be very affectionate or demonstrative like most grandmothers, but I always felt her love. For example, she’s not one for hugging and kissing. But she literally forced this faux Gucci bag on me. I don’t really care for labels — real or quality counterfeit. But I did not argue too much with her because she really wanted to give it to me. She says it’s a lucky bag. But the funny thing is, she never used it so how would she know for sure? But I never question the Queen of Superstitious Beliefs.

To this day I carry her superstitious traditions like my life depended on it–especially in the new year. At the stroke of midnight every new year, I make sure I have thirteen roundish fruits on our dinner table; I shake my tin can filled with coins loud and strong; and I make sure my house is cleaned and tidied. All this to ensure good fortune and to set the tone for the year. It’s probably when I’m at my most neurotic. I try to avoid laundry on the first day of the year and doing other things I generally don’t like to do because I don’t want to be stuck doing those things all year long. Of course that’s not realistic but, you know, it’s a neurosis.

Will the faux Gucci bag really bring me luck? Maybe. I’m not sure. All I know is that when I use it, I’ll be reminded of how fortunate I am (or was) to have Mama.

Next: Day Three