The Help

Though my mother gave me life. Most of my love came from my nanny. I don't call her yaya. I call her Nanay Vilma. She was the one who treated me like her own. She worked for my family when my brother was 3 years old and took care of me ever since I was little until I was 10 years old.

Nanay Vilma and Me

She was the one who change my diapers, fed me, played with me. Also the one who cleaned the house and did the laundry. She is one heck of a woman. Just like my mother.

Nanay Vilma with Marc, my little brother

She only finished high school and was one of the five siblings in her family. She started working in her early twenties and of course while working for us, she met a guy and courted her but it stopped when my parents told her not to get involved. In a ways my parents were also a parent or guardian to her.

There was a time when my father was drunk and he scolded her, told her mean stuff. She cried and told me that she will kill herself. I was 8 years old and I told my mother about it and was mad about my father. I was ready to fight of my father during that time but all I did was cry.

Nanay Vilmas Wedding Day

When my little brother was born, I was jealous and happy that he came to life. Jealous because the attention was not on me and happy because I HAVE A BABY BROTHER!

When the inevitable came, she was to be married all hell broke loose. My parents were mad but eventually forgave her and let her go. I on the other hand was devastated. "Nanay Vilma will leave me" that was what I told myself. "She will leave me". She came to me and we just cried.

I was a menace and I admit it and I made her cry more than once but I love her.

Now, she has three sons, one of which was named after my little brother. She is trying to have a daughter and as far as I know I don't know how that is coming. We visited her when we are invited to their wedding and baby shower and birthdays.

After she left, her sister came to replace her. I call her Ate Meng .I knew her but I was a bit reluctant about her because I thought about Nanay Vilma and was a bit closed off. But I warmed up eventually and accepted her. I was not as attached to her unlike her sister but I loved her too.

Ate Meng with Marc

Alas history repeats itself, she found love and married and left us. It was less painful the second time. Actually, I was happy because she found happiness.

Like Nanay Vilma, we also attended any event where we were invited.

Now Ate Meng lives in Baguio and when my brother studied at Baguio, she usually comes over and clean his unit, just like the old times.