Mama sits on the sofa in her hospital room. She’s a little bit more energetic today than she was yesterday. I watched her put on terracotta-tinted lipstick and press her lips together. Her eyes were already done up with mascara and eyeliner, her hair was set with curlers and hairpins. At 80, Mama is still a very pretty lady. I teased her about how dayaw or vain she was — more dayaw than me. Looking perfectly content, she says, “of course!”

My grandmother credits her own mother for her primping habits. My paternal great-grandmother was a renowned local beauty in her day. Lola, my maternal grandmother who lived several towns away, had once told me that she had already heard of my great-grandmother as a mestiza beauty long before they met. Mama, herself, was a cover girl for Yuhum magazine and was even invited to consider show business when she was about 16. Mama and her sisters were natural beauties and took good care of their appearances. They attracted the attention of many eligible bachelors, which allowed them greater opportunity to choose suitable husbands. In those days, success for women meant marrying and keeping the right man who would be a good provider to his wife and children.

Mama never went to college. She attended a kind of “finishing” school where she learned to cook, mend and manage a household. Her “career goal” was to be a good wife and mother and did not plan for anything else. I’d say she accomplished those goals and also managed to add becoming a successful businesswoman, world-traveler and human being. The fact that so many people, family and friends, have so much affection for her proves the latter.

How did a girl, whose role models were starlets like Deanna Durbin, do that without a plan? As a woman of the 21st century, I launched into adulthood with more ambition than my grandmother ever imagined. However, I look at where I am presently – at my blissful marriage and family life; at my sweet little house in a charming New Jersey town – and feel my “success” take a pause. Ten years into my marketing career, my star is not exactly rising. In my mid-thirties, I’ve seen less than an eighth of the countries on my bucket list. Financially, we’re just getting by. Not only am I part of my country’s brain drain, my 20 year old self would be very disappointed to learn that I am not doing anything to “change the world.”

My grandmother is ambivalent to this type of existential crisis. Like my Dad, Mama tells me to “forget” about the Philippines and its concerns. Why come back? She laments about the corruption in the country and tells me I’m better off in the US. I heave a sigh to release the weight of the irreconcilable difference between my idea of success and my current reality.

“Time passes without you realizing,” my grandmother says “when you do something you really enjoy.” For example, she relates that after she makes himos, meaning after an organizing or cleaning project, she feels extremely satisfied and does not notice the time at all. Indeed, she would feel exhausted after but she does not mind that.

Perhaps finding success is not about how much ambition you have to start or about making a plan. It just might be about getting lost in the moment of doing something you love and feeling good about yourself, even if all it takes is just a little lipstick.

Next: Day Six