From the cordial practice of pagmamano to the internalized habit of saying po and opo, Filipino culture embraces a deep-seated respect for those who come before us.
Our lolos and lolas have become the very symbolisms of wit, wisdom, and wishfulness through shared recipes, conversations, and traditions. As heirs to the country’s humble heritage, these seniors are held with great regard and gentle compassion.
As far as care for the Filipino elderly goes, their access to basic necessities is often cut short by a range of psychosocial and socioeconomic crises. Emotional and financial struggles have become culprits to the discontent, displacement, and dismissal of the elderly from their families and larger society. The once unfathomable concept of leaving a loved one to retire at a nursing home is slowly becoming a normal option for a young Filipino. Testament to this is the story of Kanlungan ni Maria, a bungalow-style haven for abandoned and neglected seniors seeking refuge, and sometimes, return.
Haven’s waiting
Situated in the quiet confines of a private subdivision in Antipolo City, Kanlungan ni Maria lives up to the expectations set by its name. The non-stock, non-profit organization follows the values of patroness Our Lady of the Abandoned, providing housing for marginalized seniors since 2002. Following her appointment in 2021, Sr. Herminia Mamarion of the Sisters of the Holy Cross has continued the mission of providing for the lolos and lolas of the home.
Assuming a leadership position for the first time in the middle of a global pandemic is one thing, but entering one where 23 elders are under your care is another. This was the sentiment Sr. Herminia held closely, as she grounded her dilemma: “Ano ipapakain ko [sa mga residente]? Paano ko sila bubuhayin?”
(What will I feed the residents? How will I sustain them?)
But through the kindness of the common folk, Kanlungan ni Maria has been sustained by in-kind and cash donations throughout its 21 years of existence. The public’s contributions have not only fed the mouths of the residents and paid for the housing’s utilities but have also provided for the families of their stay-in volunteers.
This humble gratitude only extends further to the residents of Kanlungan ni Maria. As the compound often hosts immersion programs, the nanays and tatays have been nothing short of appreciative to the time shared with them. Like 69-year old resident Tatay Jing shares, “‘Yung makita na parang [tinatrato ka] na pamilya [ng mga bisita]…Natutuwa ako kasi kami mga elderly, kumbaga hinahanap namin ay ang pagiging part ng [isang] family.”
(When you see that you’re being treated as family by the residents…It brings me joy because elders like us, we look for the belongingness you would feel in a family.)
Even the residents themselves have established a strong sense of siblinghood. In his four years at the home, Tatay Jing has embraced the strangers who have become like his own brothers and sisters. “One of my favorite [parts] about being here is having people to be with—people my age, people I can talk to,” he imparts with a smile.
As tight-knit as their community may be, Kanlungan ni Maria remains faithful to a crucial aspect of their mission: to locate the relatives of their residents. “With the help of our social worker’s counseling with our elders, we sometimes find out that they have children or siblings,” Sr. Herminia explains. Earlier in April, after years of surveillance and a series of screenings, a resident who had stayed at the haven in Rizal for over eight years was flown home to her daughter in Davao. It is in moments like this that the home affirms itself in being a heaven-shed for neglected grandparents across the country.
Problems in paradise
While life in Kanlungan ni Maria is peaceful and proper, some issues can’t be resolved over a cup of tea. With its limited staff and resources, the home for the aged is two elderly people away from its maximum of 25 residents. Even then, preserving a safe and homey environment for these residents already proves to be a challenge. While the home heavily relies on donations for the residents’ necessities, Sr. Herminia shares that the most difficult part is not having enough staff. Keeping the place squeaky clean is already a tedious job, especially when the already limited staff becomes unavailable.
Beyond the place itself, what really makes a home is checking up on each resident’s welfare, which tends to be the trickier aspect of the job. With age, some emotions tend to get riled up more quickly, requiring the volunteers at Kanlungan ni Maria to handle tantrums and navigate outbursts of the elderly—all in a day’s work. On some occasions, Sr. Herminia recounts that arguments escalate, and that some residents would try to get attention from outside, screaming provokingly, “‘Mga magnanakaw! Ninakawan ako!’ Tapos, sasabihin naman, ‘Papatayin ako. Ibebenta niya ‘yung lamang loob ko!’,”
(“Thieves! I got robbed!” They would also say, “They’re going to kill me and sell my internal organs!”)
However, it is not just the staff who get a hard time. Some residents also feel uncomfortable when getting caught up in the heat of things. Tatay Jing shares that despite his warm welcome into the home, there are times when he feels like he does not entirely belong there. “Hindi ko malaman [kung bakit] merong tao na pag nakita ka, nagagalit na kaagad sayo.” Nevertheless, Tatay Jing says that exercising compassion and patience in understanding is key to keeping the peace among themselves.
(I can’t understand why there are people who are so quick to anger when they see you.)
At some point, the job may get very overwhelming and discouraging. But Sr. Herminia assures, “Kung wala ‘yung pagmamahal [ko] sa matanda, kung wala ‘yung pagmamahal ko sa Diyos, siguro hindi na ako nagtagal dito.”
(If not for my love for the elders and the Lord, I probably would not have lasted here.)
A love that sustains
In the Philippines, where familial bonds are tightly woven within the very fibers of society, homes like Kanlungan ni Maria don’t come as often to any older person who might need help. Yet, the concept of a home for the aged underscores the essence of Filipino compassion, immortalizing the people’s innate respect and gratitude for the older generation. In the words of Sr. Herminia, “Kasi tao pa rin ‘yun—may dignidad pa rin.”
(Because they are still human—they still have dignity.)
More than simply being physical spaces, retirement homes symbolize a cultural commitment to valuing and supporting the wisdom of our seniors. The people running these homes serve as the foundation to ensure that the elderly are not only physically cared for, but that they are also immersed in an atmosphere that nourishes their well-being.
Through time and tide, the people of Kanlungan ni Maria stand for unwavering service not only to these residents, but also to the larger Filipino community as a whole. The heart for service and compassion of people like Sr. Herminia and the people that glue Kanlungan ni Maria together shows that the act of nurturing and supporting our elders is not merely a personal duty, but a collective affirmation of the values that bind Filipino society together.
