June 12 has always been a special day in our country — a day we commemorate freedom, bravery, and national pride. For our family though, this date now carries even more meaning. It marks the 10th birthday of our grandnephew who, despite his young age, embodies the quiet strength and resilience that Independence Day celebrates.
Born on the same day the Philippines declared its freedom, our dear boy has grown into a thoughtful and strong-hearted "kuya" to his younger sisters. Though he lives apart from his father (my nephew) — a reality many families face — he never complains. Instead, he fills the role of an older brother with grace and warmth, showing love and care in ways that are beyond his years. In many ways, he shows what it means to be independent not in isolation, but in standing strong while still holding space for love.
This year, to mark his 10th year, we “borrowed” him from his mom to celebrate. While it wasn’t a grand party with balloons or magicians, it turned out to be a memorable day not because of extravagance, but because of the genuine love and effort that surrounded him.
His dad (an only child), welcomed him with affection that closes the distance between them. My sister and brother-in-law whom he lovingly calls "Papa" and "Mommy Sexy," made the extra effort to be there, even if it meant adjusting their own schedules just to spend time with him. They knew how much he missed them, and they, too, had longed for that moment, to hug him, to see him laugh, to listen to his stories.
It was a simple but heartfelt gathering. We went to a modern restaurant in the city that served some of our favorites.
We first ordered crisp salads and nachos because we knew that the others will take time to be cooked, and because we were still waiting for his “Papa” to arrive from another town.
Tender baby back ribs and a hearty serving of “puchero” followed. Personally, I refuse eating beef anymore but “pochero” is family’s (especially our late dad’s) favorite ever since. We wanted our birthday boy to taste his late great grandad’s favorite food. It is made with beef, bananas, vegetables and spices.
Of course, just like any other boy, our birthday boy ordered fried chicken and pasta. No "pansit" this time, but noodles nonetheless — because in Filipino tradition, birthdays must have something for "long life." And that’s what we all wished for him: a long, healthy, and love-filled life.
After lunch, we took him to visit the place where his dad grew up. Walking those roads, hearing stories from the past, and seeing where his father once played as a child gave him a quiet joy. It was as though he was being welcomed not just into a home, but into a legacy: his roots, his story, his belonging.
Later that day, when we returned home, he was surprised with chocolates and other small gifts. None of them were extravagant, but each one was given with intention from people who truly know and love him. You could see it in his eyes: this was a birthday he would remember not for what he received, but for who he was with.
What stood out most that day was not the food, the gifts, or even the number on the cake. It was the way everyone, especially his grandparents and uncles and grandaunts, made him feel --- valued, remembered, and loved. Despite being physically away from his dad most of the time, he felt the deep embrace of family, the kind that crosses miles and time apart.
At ten years old, he may not fully grasp the gravity of what it means to be born on a nation's Independence Day, but in the way he carries himself — resilient, gentle, quietly strong — we see the reflection of the very ideals this country celebrates. With the love he gives and receives, we’re reminded that true family doesn’t always need loud celebrations to be felt. Sometimes, it just needs effort, presence, and heart.
To our birthday boy: your strength, your heart, and your quiet leadership as a kuya are a gift to us all. Happy 10th birthday! May you always know how deeply you are loved.