A Love Letter On Mother’s Day: Dear Lola and Mama

In honor of Mother’s Day, Missy Macuja Elizalde pens a special letter to her mother, Lisa Macuja-Elizalde, and maternal grandmother, Susan Macuja.

Dear Lola and Mama,

The older I get, the more I understand the both of you. 

In every “bahala ka,” there’s an “I can’t do everything for you—make your mistakes.” 

In every “manang-mana ka sa’kin,” there’s an “I’m so glad you’re like me.”

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I understand now what it must have been like for both of you to look at me at age 17 telling you, “Trust me, after college, I’ve got my life figured out!” Because you knew I hadn’t, and I should have listened to both of you telling me to slow down.

I understand now how hard it must have been to listen to my naivete saying, at 21, “I met the man I’m gonna marry! There’s no one better than him,” and know that this wasn’t my future husband, but just a relationship that would teach me some painful lessons.

I understand now how you must have laughed internally at my ignorance when I turned 25 and told you that “I’m sure life will slow down,” because you knew that it wouldn’t. I would have to learn how to stay on my feet while life kept trying to knock me down.

I used to scoff at the notion “mother knows best,” but now I can admit—embarassed—that on more than one occasion you both absolutely did. Whether or not I listened is a separate issue.

My first teachers, my first safe spaces as a girl were the both of you.

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At the age of 27, I’ve finally been able to appreciate how lucky I am to have been raised by such incredible women and mothers, how blessed I am to have inherited parts of both of you as a daughter and granddaughter, and I know that appreciation will only grow.

The older I get, the more I understand the importance of preserving my femininity in a world so keen on stripping it from me to survive. And yet you both have stood as pillars of all things divine, feminine and beautiful as I have grown up and left the nest. I was able to watch you be unwavering in your morals and personalities through the ups and downs that life hit us with. I’ve learned how to preserve the best of me even in times so difficult and trying, and I’m so grateful that my resilience is borne of the examples that you’ve provided for me my entire life.

Truly, my identity as a woman is something I still constantly struggle with, but both of you showed me what it was like to be strong while also holding beauty and wellness close.

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Mom, you taught me the importance of a commitment, to others and to yourself: that I should not stop just because things became difficult. You taught me the value of dressing well, because as a fellow short, baby-faced Filipina, I would always be mistaken for someone much younger, like you always are. You taught me that true beauty would always start with kindness, and that generosity must be preserved.

When I started wearing makeup for ballet performances every weekend, you taught me how to take care of my skin. I distinctly remember you saying, “No daughter of mine will not know how to moisturize.”

Lola, you taught me that being intelligent and beautiful are important in different ways, and I should never take either for granted. You taught me how to take pride in myself, even when my self-esteem fell lower than I could ever admit. You taught me how to be ‘lady-like’ in my own weird Missy way.

I got to see my mother through your eyes. To me, she was just mom but you reminded everyone who would listen that your daughter, Lisa Macuja, was the Ballerina of the People. You said it so loudly, with so much pride, the same loud pride you have when telling others about me and the things I’ve accomplished.

How lucky I am that no matter where I have been in the world, I’ve always known that either of you would answer the phone. How lucky I am that both of you have been there for every graduation, almost every performance, and if you could, you probably would have been there the first time I appeared in front of a judge, with Filipino flags and flowers, telling everyone how proud you were that I became a lawyer.

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I don’t know if I will ever be half the mother either of you were. But if I am blessed with a daughter one day, I hope that I’ll also be her safe place. I hope that she will also know she can come to me with any question or story and I will laugh or cry with her, without judgement. I hope to teach her that taking care of herself—every part of herself—should always be a priority. I’ll also teach her about skin care, whether or not she has ballet performances every weekend.

Thank you for showing me the power of being a woman, and that being my own kind of woman unapologetically is the best thing I could ever be.

Thank you for never letting me forget how beautiful I am.

Happy Mother’s Day!

All my love,

Missy