I am forever indebted to Lola Titay. She has showered me with gifts in her life and now in her death. We shared a room and a home for so long--longer than I even shared with my mom. She guided me through many decisions, trained me in many manners, and gave me what I needed, even if it was not exactly what I wanted. Lola Titay taught me many lessons that I will never forget. They ranged from the common sensical to the downright perplexing.

She loved me and I loved her. Our relationship was beyond compare. While I will miss her, I will hang on to our many joyous memories.

Lola Titay was a natural beauty. She never wore a lot of makeup. At least, it never looked like it. My mom used to say the secret to makeup was for it to look like you were not wearing any. I am sure she learned that from my Lola.

These lessons transcend generations. I myself am a great afficionado of natural beauty. Less is definitely more for me. My Lola epitomized the idea of less is more. She dressed well, but not extravagantly. Her jewelry was small, providing a subtle accent that drew your eye but did not overwhelm nor detract from the overall ensemble. She was subtle. A very wealthy individual once stated, "When you are rich like me, you can afford to be subtle." While my Lola was not independently wealthy in the monetary sense, she was incredibly wealthy in dignity and pride.

My Lola Titay was very sentimental. She kept a lot of pictures, greeting cards, notes, and other significant items.

I strongly remember Lola Titay's reaction to a Christmas card she received from her youngest daughter. The card came in with the mail, and I brought it over to her. She opened it and read it aloud, as if she was reading it to me. Then she slowly closed it, smiled and said, "She is very good to me." She placed the card back in the envelope and set it down next to her. A short while later, she opened the card again, read it aloud, and then smiled. She repeated this several times. Her happiness was genuine, and I cherished sharing that moment with her.

My Lola Titay took care of me during my formative years. My devotion to her started even back then. Before I was school age, we lived in Vacaville. My mom was working two jobs and my uncle was working the swing shift, so I barely saw either of them. Her method of parenting was very direct and aggressive. As a baby, when I cried, she shoved a bottle in my mouth. When I was off of the bottle, she shoved food in front of me. She hated it when I cried. She employed the same parenting style when she would babysit my younger cousins Melisa Guleng, Sonny Gonzales, and Jennifer Guleng.

Since Lola Titay did not drive, we walked everywhere. When she had a destination in mind, she was on her way, at her pace, regardless of who was with her. My short legs could barely keep up with her, and I would often have to break into a sprint to keep up with her. We picked up walnuts that fell from the trees that lined Alamo Drive.

When we moved to Sacramento, we had a large enough backyard that Lola Titay started a nice sized garden. She grew long beans, eggplant, sayote, tomatoes, and probably many other vegetables that escape me right now. It was always fun tending the garden with her. She also planted a lemon tree and a persimmon tree that bear fruit even today.

When we harvested the crops or picked the trees, we always reveled in the yield. I realized later in life that this probably reminded her of the Philippies, where subsistence farming was common in the province.

Lola Titay also enjoyed cooking. Some of her favorite things to make were mung beans, eggplant, bistek, Mochiko cookies, and fried tilapia.

Lola Titay's identity was strongly influenced by her Catholic faith. We recited the Rosary every night, and she always prayed, even late in life. She never said her prayers in English, always praying in her native languages.

Some of her proudest moments were when she petitioned her son and youngest daughter to come to America and when she passed the United States of America citizenship test. I can still remember the smile on her face when she took the oath.

As the years went on, Lola Titay developed her English pronounciation. For example, one of my favorite realizations was when she started to make the "uh" sound, such as the sound used in what. She was not pronouncing what with he "ah" sound.

Although Lola Titay was physically small, she was larger than life. She was the matriarch of the family, which she shared with my mom when she needed to. Her strength, character, dignity, and compassion were awe inspiring. She was a fighter, and whenever I would lose some hope, she always showed me a reason to have some again.

When my uncle and I bathed Lola Titay--because she could no longer do it on her own--and as I went to lather her chest area, she would grab my arm and proceed to karate chop it. She did this the first time we bathed her until the last time we bathed her. I laughed it off each time, impressed and gleeful that she wanted to maintain her dignity and was willing to fight me to maintain it.

Juanita Mintac was born on September 8, 1918, to Evaristo Mintac and Generosa Valenzuela in Alipangpang, Pozorrubio, Pangasinan, Philippines. There she worked the fields of the family farmlands. Despite a formal education that only included third grade, she was inherently intelligent, naturally analytical, and innately decisive.

Juanita married Raymundo Guleng prior to World War II, and they had two children, Edita Guleng (March 12, 1940-October 18, 2000) and Dominador Guleng (February 5, 1943- ). She had many stories of fleeing into the mountains from Japanese forces and finding shelter in empty caves and abandoned buildings. When she was widowed in the war, she married Pedro Norial, and they had one daughter, Marina Norial.

Juanita continued to live in Alipangpang until her immigration to the United States of America in 1977. In America, she lived with her children Edita and Dominador, helping to raise three of her grandchildren: Bobby G. Roy, Melissa Guleng, and Jennifer Guleng.

In 1993, Juanita's youngest daughter moved to the United States with her husband, Servillano Gonzales, and children, Chester, Brian, and Sonny.

In 2005, Juanita welcomed into the world her only grandchild, Acai Gray.

Juanita was an epitome of strength and a model of dignity throughout her 91 years of life and well-deserving of the love bestowed upon her by family and friends.

We shall miss her dearly.

Alaska has passed a resolution declaring October 2010 as Filipino American History Month.  Supported by the bi-partisan working group in the Senate, the House voted unanimously to approve SCR 14 which would recognize October 2010 as Filipino American History Month.  Representative Thelma Buchholdt, who passed away in 2007, was the first Filipino American elected to a state legislature and served in the House from 1974 to 1982.  Her name was referred to in a floor speech urging all members to vote yes. 

You can see a copy of the resolution at the Alaska Legislature Web site at http://www.legis.state.ak.us/PDF/26/Bills/SCR014A.PDF (Outside Source).

I encourage everyone to focus on some aspect of Filipino American history during the month of October. Please visit http://www.alaskero.com (Outside Source) later this summer for more information and ideas on how Alaskans will celebrate Filipino American History Month.

If you want even more ideas sooner, attend the Filipino American National Historical Society (FANHS) conference this summer from July 21-24, 2010.  For more information, please visit the FANHS Web site at http://www.fanhs-national.org/ (Outside Source).