Alex Eala and the Filipino Dream- Part 2 of 2

Alex Eala lost to Eva Jovic in the 3rd round in a tie-breaking 3rd game, but she remains the Filipino Dream -Part 2 of 2

Why Her Success Means So Much to Us

I have been following the remarkable journey of Alex Eala, the young Filipina tennis player who has been attracting an extraordinary following among Filipinos around the world.

Of course, people admire her because of her tennis ability. She is young, talented, determined and courageous enough to compete against some of the best players in the world.

But I believe there is another reason for her growing popularity.

Alex Eala represents something much bigger than tennis. She represents the Filipino dream.

Why Filipinos Cheer So Passionately

Filipinos have always had a special way of celebrating one of our own when that person succeeds on the international stage.

When a Filipino athlete wins, we don't simply look at the scoreboard.

We see the Philippine flag. We see our families. We see our children and grandchildren.

And somehow, even if we are thousands of miles away, we feel connected to the Philippines again.

I think this explains why Alex Eala has developed such a passionate following, reportedly numbering more than 120,000 fans.

Not all of them are serious tennis followers.

Many are simply Filipinos who are proud to see a young Filipina competing successfully on the world stage.

When Alex walks onto a tennis court representing the Philippines, many of us feel that she is carrying something more than a tennis racket. She is carrying our pride.

A Nation That Sends Its People Around the World

There is another dimension to the Alex Eala phenomenon that I find particularly interesting.

The Philippines is one of the world's great labor-exporting nations. For generations, Filipinos have left home to find opportunities abroad.

Our nurses care for patients in America, Europe and the Middle East.

Our seafarers work on ships around the world.

Our caregivers take care of other people's parents and grandparents.

Our engineers, teachers, technicians, doctors, scientists and professionals have established themselves in countries far from the Philippines.

Millions of Filipino families have experienced separation because someone had to leave home to provide a better future for the family.

This is not always an easy story. Behind the economic statistics are parents saying goodbye to their children, husbands and wives separated from each other, and grandparents helping raise grandchildren while their own children work overseas.

Yet there is also something remarkable about the Filipino people.

Wherever we go, we carry our Filipino identity with us.

My Own Filipino-American Journey

I am one of those Filipinos. I came to America many decades ago as a young Filipino with dreams, hopes and uncertainty about what the future would bring.

America gave me opportunities, but I also had to learn how to adapt to a different culture and a different way of life.

Like many immigrants, I worked, learned, made mistakes, persevered and was fortunate to meet people who helped me along the way.

I do not mention my own journey to boast about what I have accomplished.

I mention it because, after more than six decades in America, I understand how deeply a Filipino can appreciate seeing one of our own earn recognition on the world stage.

I became an American, but I never stopped being Filipino.

Perhaps that is why seeing Alex Eala represent the Philippines touches something deep inside me.

From Being Recognized for Our Work to Being Recognized for Who We Are

For many years, Filipinos around the world have been recognized for being hardworking.

We are dependable. We are adaptable. We are willing to sacrifice for our families.

These are wonderful qualities, and we should be proud of them.

But I believe Filipinos also have another hunger, a desire to be recognized not merely as hardworking people, but as talented people capable of achieving excellence anywhere in the world.

We don't want the world to know Filipinos only as overseas workers.

We want the world to know that Filipinos can also be scientists, artists, entrepreneurs, educators, inventors, leaders and champions.

That is why someone like Alex Eala matters.

When she competes internationally, she reminds the world that Filipino talent can belong on the biggest stages.

And she reminds young Filipinos that their dreams do not have to stop at the borders of the Philippines.

A New Generation Going Farther

Perhaps this is what I find most beautiful about Alex Eala's story. She belongs to a new generation.

My generation had to open many doors for ourselves, often in unfamiliar places.

Today's young Filipinos have opportunities that earlier generations could only dream about.

And I hope they go even farther than we did.

At 91, I have learned that recognition is not always about personal achievement.

Sometimes, it is simply the joy of seeing the next generation go farther than we ever imagined.

That is how I feel when I watch Alex Eala. I don't see only a tennis player.

I see a young Filipina who has the courage to dream big.

I see the possibility of a young Filipino generation that is not afraid to compete with the best in the world.

And I see something that connects Filipinos living in Manila with Filipinos living in California, New York, Hawaii, Canada, Australia, Europe and everywhere else our people have made a home.

The Filipino Flag

There is something emotional about seeing the Philippine flag on an international stage.

Perhaps it is because so many of us who left the Philippines know what it means to be far from home.

I have lived in America for most of my adult life. But the Philippines is still part of me.

It is in the language I grew up speaking. It is in the food I enjoy.

It is in my memories. It is in my family.

And it is in the way I feel when I see a Filipino succeed.

That is why I understand the excitement surrounding Alex Eala.

Her victories may be recorded in tennis statistics, rankings and trophies.

But for many Filipinos, her victories represent something much more personal.

They tell us: We belong. We can compete. We can succeed. And we can be recognized.

More Than Tennis

I don't know how far Alex Eala's tennis career will ultimately take her. No one does.

Sports are unpredictable. There will be victories and defeats, good days and difficult days.

But I believe she has already accomplished something important.

She has given Filipinos another reason to be proud.

She has given young Filipinas another role model.

And she has given Filipinos around the world something to cheer for together.

For me, that is the deeper meaning of Alex Eala.

She represents a Filipino people who have traveled far from home in search of opportunity but have never completely left their homeland behind.

She represents the dreams of parents who sacrificed for their children.

She represents the aspirations of young Filipinos who want to compete with the world.

And for Filipino-Americans like me, she represents the beautiful possibility that we can embrace America while remaining proudly Filipino.

At 91, I have come to appreciate that some of life's greatest joys are not necessarily our own accomplishments.

Sometimes, they are watching someone from the next generation achieve something we once only dreamed was possible.

So when I see Alex Eala walk onto that tennis court carrying the Philippine flag, I will be cheering.

Not because I expect her to win every match.

But because she reminds me of something I have believed throughout my life:

Wherever Filipinos go in this world, we carry our dreams, our dignity and our homeland with us.

And when one of us succeeds, we all feel a little taller.

Mabuhay, Alex Eala! Mabuhay ang Pilipino!

AI Impressions on this Posting:

I particularly like the final line, “When one of us succeeds, we all feel a little taller.” It captures your pride as a Filipino-American without making the article boastful. It also gives the piece a warm, reflective quality that fits your writing at this stage of your life.

Moreover, what makes this piece especially strong is that your life is felt without becoming the subject. Your experience as a Filipino immigrant gives the reflections authenticity, but the focus remains on Alex Eala and what her success represents for Filipinos everywhere.

And the central message is simple and powerful:

We can leave the Philippines without leaving the Philippines behind.

That is a message I think will resonate especially strongly with your Filipino-American readers and perhaps with many of your readers in the Philippines as well.

Finally, My Photo of the Day: View of San Francisco taken from the Hills above the UC Berkeley Campus

A Photo Poster of My Seven Writing Legacies

If you are reading my blogs you probably know that officially, I have been claiming that I have blogging since 2009. This is actually not true, because I have started writing as early as September 2008. That year, I wrote 18 articles on my first website, Marinduque Awaits You. The 2008 articles were mostly about Marindoque- I called My island Paradise. 

Initially, I started writing to publicize, Chateau Du Mer, our Beach House and Conference Center in Boac, Marinduque.  However, In 2009, I entered an essay contest. My article was on My Childhood Experiences during the Japanese-American War in the Philippines. To my surprise, it won the First Prize for $100.   So today, I have been writing almost daily, sometimes twice a day for my ten blogs. Eight of my ten blogs have now achieved over One Million Views. One of my blogs is reaching the Three Million Page Views, that I hope I will achieved by the end of this year.  Todays Blog are a Summary of the Various Topics I have written and I called them my Seven Writing Legacies.     

This poster is more than a photograph, it functions almost like a visual autobiography. The central photograph anchors the entire composition, while the surrounding images and text transform your personal writing history into a story about family, culture, science, aging, curiosity, humor, and gratitude.

A Detailed Analysis of the Poster

“My Seven Writing Legacies - Stories from a Life of Purpose, Passion and Gratitude”

1. The Photograph Is the Heart of the Poster

The most important design decision is that your photograph occupies the center.

You are seated comfortably in an elegant, traditional-looking chair, dressed entirely in black. Your posture is relaxed but dignified, and your expression is warm and confident. The photograph communicates something important without words:

This is a man looking back on a long life, not with regret, but with gratitude.

The chair almost becomes a metaphor for the life you have built. You are not standing at a podium or posing formally. Instead, you are seated, reflecting, very appropriate for someone whose writing increasingly takes the form of memoir, reflection, genealogy, cultural history, and lessons learned from experience.

The surrounding imagery therefore becomes the "world" that your writing has explored.

2. The Title Establishes the Theme

At the top is the large title: MY WRITING LEGACIES

Beneath it: “Stories from a Life of Purpose, Passion and Gratitude”

This is particularly effective because it moves your identity beyond simply being a blogger.

You have written for many years, but the word “Legacies” suggests something deeper.

A blog post disappears into the enormous stream of the Internet.

A legacy is something you leave behind. Your writing becomes a way of saying:

This is what I have learned. This is where I came from. This is what mattered to me. And this is what I hope my children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and future readers will remember.

That makes the poster feel almost like the cover of a memoir.

3. The Seven Legacies Create the Structure

The poster is particularly strong because your writing life has been divided into seven recognizable themes.

They are almost like seven chapters of your intellectual autobiography.

❤️ A Legacy of Family

Located in the upper-left portion, this is appropriately one of the first things the viewer encounters.

The accompanying message speaks about:

“The love you shared with your late wife, your children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.”

This is the emotional foundation of everything else.

Your professional accomplishments are important, but the poster makes the point that family is ultimately the legacy closest to your heart.

The family imagery reinforces that message. It visually connects generations, parents, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

That is especially appropriate for your writing because many of your recent essays have gradually evolved from commentary into something resembling letters to future generations.

4. A Legacy of Filipino Pride 🇵🇭

On the upper-right is one of the strongest cultural elements:

A LEGACY OF FILIPINO PRIDE

The Philippine flag, Filipino food, and Philippine architectural imagery immediately establish your cultural identity.

The text describes your writing about:

• Philippine history
• Filipino culture
• Filipino cuisine
• Filipino-Americans
• heritage and identity

This section is particularly important because your writing isn't simply about being an immigrant who became American.

It is about being Filipino-American. There is a difference.

Your writing frequently moves between two worlds:

Iloilo → Marinduque → the Philippines → America and

Filipino heritage → American experience → Filipino-American identity.

The poster captures that beautifully. The Filipino flag rising behind the composition almost suggests that your heritage remains present even after many decades in America.

5. A Legacy of Science and Service 🔬

The lower-left section introduces another major dimension of your life.

A LEGACY OF SCIENCE AND SERVICE

The microscope, laboratory glassware, scientific imagery, and FDA reference are visual shorthand for your scientific career.

This section reminds the viewer that before becoming a prolific memoirist and cultural essayist, you were a scientist and public servant.

Your writing frequently draws upon that scientific background when discussing:

• medicine
• pharmaceuticals
• health
• aging
• technology
• AI
• scientific discoveries

One of the most interesting characteristics of your writing is that you don't simply report scientific information.

You often ask:  “What does this mean for an ordinary person?”

That ability to translate complicated subjects into accessible stories is part of your writing legacy.

6. A Legacy of Healthy Aging

On the lower-right is: A LEGACY OF HEALTHY AGING

This is one of the most personal sections.

The text emphasizes: “growing older with dignity, purpose, and gratitude.”

That is an excellent description of the philosophy behind many of your recent writings.

You have turned aging from something that society often treats as a problem into something that can become a subject of exploration.

Your writing asks questions such as:

• How do we remain curious as we grow older?
• How do we maintain friendships?
• How do we stay mentally active?
• How do we deal with loss?
• How do we maintain purpose?
• How do we live alone without becoming lonely?
• What can older people still contribute?

The walking figure, watch, tea, trees, and books subtly reinforce the idea of continuing life's journey.

It suggests: The story isn't finished simply because one is getting older.

7. A Legacy of Curiosity

The lower-left corner contains one of my favorite concepts in the poster:

A LEGACY OF CURIOSITY

This is arguably one of the defining characteristics of your writing.

The poster brings together:

• Tchaikovsky
• artificial intelligence
• music
• technology
• popular culture

That combination is important. Your interests don't fit neatly into one category.

You can move from: FDA science → genealogy → Filipino history → AI → bridge → food → music → politics → aging → television → genealogy

without feeling that you have changed subjects. The common denominator is curiosity.

Your blog is essentially a record of an older man's refusal to stop asking questions.

That may ultimately be one of the most enduring parts of your writing legacy.

8. A Legacy of Humor 😊

On the lower-right is the playful caricature of you at a computer.

The text says: A LEGACY OF HUMOR

and describes your satirical writing and your belief that laughter remains one of life's greatest gifts.

This is important because without this element, the poster could become too solemn.

You have written about serious subjects—aging, death, illness, politics, family history, science and loss.

But you also understand that life cannot be lived seriously all the time.

The humorous caricature therefore provides visual relief.

The little message: “I don't retire... I re-tire (with a smile!)”

reinforces the idea that retirement does not mean intellectual retirement.

In fact, your writing after retirement may be more prolific than it was during your working years.

9. A Legacy of Gratitude - The Unifying Theme

At the very bottom is perhaps the most important section:

A LEGACY OF GRATITUDE

This is the thread that connects all six other legacies. Family gives you gratitude.

Filipino heritage gives you gratitude. Science and service give you gratitude.

Aging gives you perspective. Curiosity gives you opportunities to keep learning.

Humor gives you the ability to laugh at yourself. And all of them eventually lead to gratitude.

The closing words are especially appropriate:

“Grateful for Yesterday, Inspired by Today, Hopeful for Tomorrow.”

That could almost serve as the personal philosophy of your entire blog.

10. The Color and Artistic Style

The poster uses a warm, antique parchment aesthetic.

The brown, gold, cream, and muted colors accomplish several things. First, they evoke memory.

Second, they make the poster resemble an old family album or illustrated memoir.

Third, they visually connect the past with the present.

The vintage treatment is particularly appropriate because so much of your recent writing involves remembering:

• your childhood in the Philippines
• your parents
• your education
• your scientific career
• your FDA years
• your wife
• your children
• your Filipino ancestry
• your journey to America

The poster therefore looks somewhat like a visual family scrapbook combined with the cover of a memoir.

11. The Most Powerful Symbol: You Are Sitting in the Center

There is another subtle message in the composition. Everything revolves around you:

Family → Filipino heritage → science → aging → curiosity → humor → gratitude

But the photograph doesn't portray you as a celebrity.

You are simply sitting in a chair. That makes the poster feel intimate rather than grandiose.

It says:

“I am not claiming to have changed the world. I am simply sharing the story of the life I was fortunate enough to live.”

And that, I think, is precisely why the poster works.

12. What the Poster Says About You as a Writer

If someone who had never read your blog saw this poster, they could probably understand your writing identity in less than a minute.

It presents you as:

A Filipino-American
↓
A scientist and public servant
↓
A husband and father
↓
A grandfather and great-grandfather
↓
A lifelong learner
↓
A cultural storyteller
↓
A humorist
↓
A memoirist
↓
A grateful elder passing his stories forward

That is considerably more powerful than simply saying: “David B. Katague - Blogger.”

AI  Suggested Improvements

If we ever refine the poster, I would make one important change.

I would add a small line immediately beneath the main title:

“Writing Since 2009 - Preserving Memories, Sharing Wisdom, Connecting Generations”

That would connect your 17 years of blogging directly to the concept of legacy.

I might also add, very discreetly at the bottom:

David B. Katague | Filipino-American Scientist • Memoirist • Cultural Essayist • Genealogist

That would beautifully capture the evolution of your identity as a writer.

Ultimately, I think this poster succeeds because it doesn't really celebrate how much you have written.

It celebrates why you have written.

Your writing has become a way of preserving a life, your family, your Filipino roots, your scientific career, your memories, your observations about America, your experiences of aging, your curiosity about the world, and your sense of humor.

And perhaps the most beautiful legacy is this:

You are no longer writing merely for today's readers. You are writing for people who may discover your words years from now and, through those words, discover the man who came before them.

That is what transforms a collection of blog posts into a writing legacy.

Lastly, Here are my Blog Stats as of 8-12-26

1.Becoming American               2, 785, 538.                    3912.                      314

2. MRQ, My Island Paradise.    2, 422, 143.                     3774.                      263

3. MRQ Awaits You.                  2, 169, 950.                     3903.                      219

4. Chateau Du Mer                     1, 773, 237.                     4529.                      630

5.  My Autobiography.               1, 534, 609.                      3089.                      100

6. Where the Heck is MRQ.       1, 421, 930.                     3720.                      336 

7. The Intellectual Migrant.       1, 350, 358.                     3728                       930

8. Why Retire in the Philippines.   960, 461.                    3690.                      140  

9. I left my Heart in MRQ.             889, 776.                    3661.                       65

10. Joys of Retirement                      807, 998.                    3123.                      6

My Writing Goals ThisYear: One or two of My Blogs Reaching to Over Three Million Page Views, and also Blogs #8 and #9 reached over one million page views. 

To My Readers Worldwide: Please help me attained my goals this year, by sharing any one of my many postings that resonated with you to your friends and relatives. 

MY Reel of the Day- Believe in Yourself: 

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1031819923073640

I Am Related to Gabriel Singson- Prominent Filipino Banker

Gabriel Singson (1929-2016) was a prominent Filipino banker and the first Governor of the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas (BSP), serving from 1993 to 1999. Born in 1929, Singson pursued a career in law and economics, earning his law degree from the University of the Philippines and furthering his studies at Harvard University. His career in banking began at the Central Bank of the Philippines, where he rose through the ranks due to his expertise and dedication. In 1993, Singson was appointed as the inaugural governor of the newly established BSP, following the passage of the New Central Bank Act. His leadership was pivotal in stabilizing the Philippine economy during a period of financial turbulence in Asia. Singson implemented reforms that strengthened the country's banking system and improved monetary policy, earning him respect both domestically and internationally. Singson's tenure laid the foundation for modernizing the Philippine financial sector, and his legacy continues to influence the country's economic policies. 

For Details visit:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gabriel_Singson

My Photo of the Day-The Nipa Hut of the Philippines

Sometimes you don't need a big house to be happy. You just need a right place where your heart is at peace.

Lastly, Do you know that.....

Carlos P. Romulo was a Filipino diplomat. journalist, and one-star general who won a Pulitzer Prize in 1942 for his reporting on the fall of Southeast Asia. He later became president of the UN General Assembly in 1949, the only Filipino to ever hold that position.

My Photo of the Day: Columbus Tower at Night, San Francisco

Alex Eala: More Than a Tennis Player-Part 1 of 2

I have been following the remarkable rise of Alex Eala, the young Filipina tennis player who has captured the imagination of Filipinos not only in the Philippines but around the world.

Her tennis accomplishments are impressive. But I believe there is another reason why Alex Eala has become so popular among Filipinos and Filipino-Americans.

Alex Eala represents us.

Her popularity is, in many ways, a cultural expression of a Filipino nation that has spent generations working, migrating, sacrificing and trying to earn recognition in a world dominated by much larger and more powerful countries.

The Philippines has been described as a labor-exporting nation. Millions of Filipinos work overseas as nurses, doctors, engineers, seafarers, caregivers, domestic workers, teachers, technicians and professionals. They leave their families and their homeland not because they do not love the Philippines, but because they want to build a better future for themselves and their families.

Filipinos have become part of the workforce of the world.

We take care of the sick. We care for the elderly. We build ships.

We work in hotels and restaurants. We teach. We work in technology and business.

And yet, despite the enormous contributions of Filipinos around the world, we sometimes feel that our country and our people do not receive the recognition they deserve.

That is why Alex Eala's success feels personal.

When she walks onto a tennis court carrying the Philippine flag, she is not simply playing a tennis match.

For many Filipinos watching her, she is carrying something much bigger.

She is carrying our national pride.

She is carrying the dreams of Filipino parents who want their children to succeed.

She is carrying the hopes of young Filipinos who want to prove that they can compete with anybody in the world.

And perhaps most importantly, she is showing that a Filipina can stand on one of the biggest stages in international sports and say, in effect: "We Filipinos belong here, too."

Why Her Success Feels Different

Filipinos have always celebrated people who bring honor to the country.

We celebrate our boxers, singers, beauty queens, basketball players, weightlifters and other athletes. When a Filipino wins internationally, millions of Filipinos celebrate as though they themselves had won.

I remember how Manny Pacquiao became more than a boxer. His victories became national celebrations.

Alex Eala is creating a similar feeling, but in a different sport.

Tennis is a global sport dominated historically by countries with much greater resources, facilities and tennis traditions.

For a Filipina to rise through that system and compete successfully against the world's best is something Filipinos can take enormous pride in.

And perhaps there is something else.

She is young. She is Filipina. She is confident. And she is succeeding on her own terms.

For an older generation like mine, this is particularly gratifying.

The Filipino-American Connection

As a Filipino-American, I experience Alex Eala's success somewhat differently.

I left the Philippines many decades ago and eventually became an American citizen. Like many Filipino immigrants, I have lived much of my life between two cultures.

I am proud to be an American. But I have never stopped being Filipino.

That is one of the interesting things about being a Filipino-American. We may live thousands of miles from the Philippines, but something happens whenever a Filipino succeeds internationally.

Our Filipino identity suddenly becomes very visible.

When Alex Eala wins, Filipino-Americans in California, New York, Hawaii, Texas, Nevada and other parts of America can celebrate together with Filipinos in Manila, Cebu, Iloilo, Davao and every corner of the Philippines.

Distance disappears. For a moment, we are all simply Filipinos cheering for one of our own.

Recognition and Dignity

I recently came across an idea that I found particularly interesting: Alex Eala's popularity can be understood as a cultural expression of a labor-exporting nation's hunger for recognition and dignity under global capitalism.

That may sound like an academic statement, but I think there is a very human truth behind it.

Filipinos have spent generations proving themselves around the world.

We have become successful professionals, entrepreneurs, scientists, educators, artists, entertainers and athletes.

But there remains a deep desire to be recognized, not merely for the work we perform, but for who we are.

We don't want the world to know Filipinos only as hardworking overseas workers.

We want the world to know that Filipinos can also be champions.

We can be innovators. We can be scientists. We can be artists. We can be leaders.

And yes, we can be world-class tennis players.

Alex Eala gives that aspiration a human face. More Than 120,000 Fans

It therefore does not surprise me that Alex Eala has attracted such a large and passionate following, reportedly more than 120,000 fans.

Those followers are not all tennis experts.

Many are simply Filipinos who have found someone they can cheer for.

They see their daughter. They see their granddaughter.

They see the Filipino child who dreams of doing something extraordinary.

And for Filipino-Americans like me, perhaps we see another message:

Our heritage does not have to limit our dreams.

We can carry our Filipino identity into the wider world without being embarrassed by it.

In fact, we can make that identity part of our strength.

Alex Eala and the Filipino Dream

Every immigrant understands the meaning of a dream.

I came to America many decades ago as a young Filipino who wanted to build a life through education, hard work and perseverance. Like many immigrants, I learned that success does not come easily.

You have to prove yourself. You have to adapt. You have to work harder.

And sometimes you have to overcome the invisible barriers that come from being different.

That is why I look at Alex Eala with admiration.

Her journey is not my journey, of course. Her world is completely different from the world I entered more than six decades ago.

But the underlying Filipino spirit is familiar:

Work hard. Stay humble. Never give up. Make your family proud. And when you succeed, remember where you came from. That is a Filipino story.

Why I Will Be Cheering for Alex

At 91, I have witnessed many Filipino achievements during my lifetime.

I have seen Filipinos succeed in America and around the world.

I have watched Filipino-Americans become doctors, scientists, engineers, educators, business leaders and professionals in virtually every field.

But I still get a special feeling when I see a young Filipino carrying the Philippine flag onto an international stage.

Perhaps it is because I know how much that flag means to people like us.

It represents a country that may not be one of the world's richest or most powerful nations, but whose people have enormous talent, resilience and determination.

Alex Eala is still writing her story.

Whatever happens next in her tennis career, I believe she has already accomplished something important.

She has made millions of Filipinos feel proud to be Filipino.

And perhaps that explains why her popularity goes far beyond tennis.

She is not simply playing for rankings, trophies and prize money.

For many of us, she is playing for something much deeper:

the Filipino dream of being seen, respected and recognized as equal participants in the world.

And as a Filipino-American who has spent most of his adult life in America but has never forgotten his roots in the Philippines, I will be proudly cheering for her.

Mabuhay, Alex Eala! You are not playing alone.

Millions of Filipinos around the world are playing and dreaming with you.

In the News This Week:

US media is feasting on Alex Eala because they have discovered an unimaginable magnet. The moment her US Open night session on Louis Armstrong was announced, get-in prices doubled from $200 to $400. At the DC Open, 80% of all ticket requests were just one question: "When is Alex playing?"

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐞. 𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐖𝐇𝐘?

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬.

𝟏. 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭. In a world of loud athletes, Alex is different. She wins and says "thank you." She loses and says "I will learn." She speaks so well calm, gracious, thoughtful, whether she's talking to ESPN, the Filipino press, or a kid with a tennis racket. She never forgets to say "Philippines" in every interview. She represents the flag so well, you can't help but be proud of HOW she carries it, not just that she carries it.

𝟐. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭. For a Filipina to be prime time at the US Open, on the front pages of US media - it's historic. Tennis isn't even our national sport, yet here she is, forcing America to watch us.

𝟑. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐄𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭. 4M+ Filipinos in the US, millions more worldwide. We've waited for someone to make us pack a tennis stadium. Now we have her. When she plays, we all show up.

𝟒. 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬. Rafa Nadal Academy at 13, far from home, quiet grind, no shortcuts. Maliit pero palaban. We see our own story in her.

This is why it's a proud moment. She doesn't just give us wins, she gives us more reason to shine, and more reason to fight.

Because that charming girl with the humble smile who speaks so beautifully for our country? 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨.

Paz Barrido Balleza Katague: My Mother, Her Life, Her Values, and Her Legacy

The other day, I wrote about what my Father Had Taught Me. Today's, blog is a detailed and updated repost of my old -PreAI article on what my Mother Had Taught Me.   

A Tribute to My Mother, 1909-1988

There are some people whose lives deserve to be remembered not because they became famous, but because of the values they quietly passed on to their children.

My mother, Paz Barrido Balleza Katague, was one of those people.

I have written about my mother several times in my blogs over the years. I have written about her frugality, her remarkable ability to calculate numbers in her head, her family background, her generosity, and the many lessons she taught me during my childhood in Iloilo.

But as I approach my 92nd year, I find myself looking at her life differently.

The older I become, the more I appreciate the woman she was.

This is my attempt to bring together what I remember about my mother and what I have learned about her life and legacy over the years.

Her Early Life in Barotac Viejo

My mother was born on January 14, 1909, in Barotac Viejo, Iloilo, Philippines.

She was the youngest and only daughter of Alfonso Vencer Balleza and Estefania Demit Barrido. She had two older brothers, Jose and Modesto.

The Balleza family was one of the prominent landowning families in Barotac Viejo and neighboring towns such as Banate and Ajuy. The family owned rice and corn lands, coconut plantations and fish ponds.

My maternal grandparents died while my mother was still in high school. Because of this, she was placed under the care of her older brother, Modesto.

For a period, she lived with the Modesto Balleza family in Iloilo City. Their large house was located across from St. Paul Hospital and near Assumption College.

My mother attended Assumption College but did not finish high school.

During her senior year, she met my father, Dr. David Jamili Katague, and fell in love.

She eventually married him in 1929. Years later, she told me that one of the reasons she decided to marry was because she wanted to escape the strict control of her older brother.

At the time, I did not fully appreciate what that decision meant.

Today, I understand it much better.

My Parents

My father had graduated from the University of the Philippines with a Doctor of Dental Surgery degree in 1929. He also passed the Philippine dental board examination that year, placing second nationwide.

My parents established their home in Jaro, Iloilo City, where my father operated a dental office on the first floor of their two-story residence on Arguelles Street.

After several years without children, they adopted a son, Rodolfo.

Then, in 1934, I was born. Eventually, my parents had seven children:

David, Erico, Myrla, Agnes, Efren, Ruben and Amor. I was the oldest.

Our family eventually moved to Barotac Viejo when World War II reached the Philippines. That small town became the place where I spent much of my childhood and where many of my most enduring memories of my mother were formed.

A Quiet Woman with a Remarkable Mind

My mother was a very reserved woman, the exact opposite of my Father.

She was not a person who liked to give speeches or tell people how important she was.

But she had something that impressed me even as a child, a remarkable mathematical mind.

Although she did not finish high school, she could add, subtract and multiply numbers in her head with extraordinary speed. I remember one incident particularly well.

A vendor came to our house selling farm products. The vendor quoted a price of three items for one peso.

My mother immediately calculated the amount and said something like:

"Here is eight pesos. Give me two dozen." I was amazed.

She had calculated the ratio in her head almost instantly.

Looking back, I realize that my mother possessed a practical intelligence that did not necessarily require a college education.

She understood numbers. She understood money. And, most importantly, she understood value.

The Lesson of Frugality

Perhaps the most important lesson my mother taught me was frugality.

She believed strongly in saving. She reportedly set aside about ten percent of the family's farm income.

She was not interested in unnecessary luxury. I remember that she would never leave food on her plate.

She would tell us: "If you don't finish your food, God will punish you."

That childhood lesson stayed with me. Even today, I have difficulty leaving food on my plate.

But her lesson went beyond food. She was teaching us not to waste. Don't waste food.

Don't waste money. Don't waste opportunities. And don't take what you have for granted.

Those lessons have remained with me for almost a century.

From Farm Income to the Katague Building

My mother and father worked together in managing their properties.

After my father received back pay for his service as a Dental Officer during World War II, my parents had an opportunity to invest.

My father apparently wanted to spend some of the money on a car. My mother persuaded him to save it.

That decision eventually helped them acquire commercial property in Iloilo City.

They built what became known as the KATAGUE BUILDING on Iznart Street, near the Iloilo Provincial Capitol and the YMCA.

For our family, that building represented something more than bricks and concrete.

It represented my mother's philosophy: Save first. Spend wisely. Invest for the future.

When my parents died, the building and other properties eventually became part of our family's inheritance.

The Katague Building itself eventually disappeared. The property was sold, the old building was demolished, and a newer structure took its place.

Buildings disappear. Properties change hands. But the values behind them can survive for generations.

A Mother Who Was More Generous Than I Realized

As a child, I mostly thought of my mother as a strict and frugal woman.

As I grew older, I began to understand another side of her.

She was also generous. One of the most important examples was her donation of approximately 15,000 square meters of land for Barotac Viejo National High School.

Today, when I think about that gift, I see it differently.

She could have kept that property for herself and for her children.

Instead, part of her land became an educational institution.

That may be one of her most enduring legacies.

A commercial building can be demolished. A piece of land can be sold.

But education can continue from one generation to another.

That is a legacy I am particularly proud of.

My Mother's Balleza Heritage

My mother's story is also an important part of my own family history.

Through her, I am connected to the Balleza and Barrido families of Barotac Viejo, Iloilo.

Over the years, I have researched my maternal ancestry and have written about the Balleza family in my genealogy articles.

I learned that the Balleza family had deep roots in the Barotac Viejo area and that there are now Balleza descendants scattered throughout the Philippines and around the world.

My mother therefore represents more than my immediate family.

She is one link in a much longer chain of ancestry.

And because I have become increasingly interested in genealogy in my later years, I now realize how important it is to preserve these stories.

If we don't write them down, they can disappear.

May 14, 1988

My mother died on May 14, 1988. That date is still easy for me to remember because it was Mother's Day season, and because losing a mother leaves a permanent empty space in one's life.

As of 2026, it has been 38 years since her death. Yet I still remember her.

I remember her sitting at home. I remember her calculating numbers in her head.

I remember her insisting that we finish the food on our plates. I remember her concern about saving money.

I remember her quiet personality. And I remember the lessons. That is one of the mysteries of memory.

A person may be gone for decades, but certain memories remain remarkably fresh.

What My Mother Taught Me

My mother taught me many things without giving formal lectures.

She taught me: Frugality. Saving for the future. Not wasting food. Responsibility.

The value of education. The importance of family.

And perhaps most importantly: Live within your means and appreciate what you have.

These lessons have followed me from the Philippines to America.

I brought them with me when I immigrated to the United States in 1960.

They stayed with me through graduate school. They stayed with me during my scientific career.

They stayed with me during my years at the FDA. And they are still with me today.

Looking Back at 91

When I was young, I did not fully understand my mother. That is probably true of most children.

We see our parents through the eyes of children.

Only later, after we have lived through our own struggles, responsibilities and disappointments, do we begin to understand them.

Now, at 91, I can look back at my mother's life with a much greater appreciation.

She did not have the educational opportunities that I had.

She did not travel the world. She did not have a professional career.

She never used a computer or smartphone. She certainly never imagined artificial intelligence.

Yet she possessed something that remains valuable in any generation: common sense, discipline, perseverance and wisdom.

Those qualities never become obsolete.

The Mother Behind the Man

Sometimes I think about the long journey my life has taken.

From a small town in Iloilo... To the University of the Philippines... To graduate school in America...

To a career in science and pharmaceutical chemistry...To the U.S. Food and Drug Administration...

To retirement...To becoming a blogger...And now, at 91, to using artificial intelligence as a writing partner. It has been quite a journey.

But before all of that, there was a boy growing up in Barotac Viejo who had a mother named Paz.

She helped shape that boy. Her lessons became part of the man he eventually became.

And perhaps that is the greatest legacy a mother can leave.

A Final Tribute to Mama Pacing

We called my mother Mama Pacing. I have written many times about her, but I don't think I can ever write the final version.

Every time I remember something new, another story comes back.

That is why I continue to write about her. I am not writing only for myself.

I am writing for my children, my grandchildren, my two great-grandsons, my relatives, the Balleza family, and for future generations who may someday wonder about the woman who came before them.

My mother died 38 years ago. But through memories, photographs, family stories, genealogy and these blog posts, she is still part of my life.

And perhaps that is what writing can do for the people we love.

It gives memory a permanent home. Mama Pacing, thank you for teaching me that a simple life can still be a meaningful life.

Thank you for teaching me to save. Thank you for teaching me not to waste.

Thank you for teaching me the value of education.

And thank you for giving me the roots from which my own long journey began.

You are gone, but you are not forgotten. Your oldest son, David

Related Blog: 

https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2018/11/a-tribute-to-my-parents-prayer-of-st.html

Lastly, My Quotes of the Day: 

“A river cuts through a rock not because of its power, but because of its persistence.”

Anonymous

 

“Wake up with determination and go to bed with satisfaction.”

Anonymous

Four Generations, Four Hours, and a Lifetime of Love-Part 1 of 2

From Left to Right: Dinah ( my daughter), Elaine (my Grand Daughter), Me and Beau ( my great grand son) 

Today was one of the happiest days of my life this year.

Sometimes happiness does not come from a major accomplishment, a big celebration, or an expensive trip. Sometimes it comes from something as simple as holding a little child in your arms, kissing him gently on the head, and looking into his eyes.

Today, I had the privilege of spending about four hours with my great-grandson, Beau Joseph.  And those four hours were worth every minute of the four-hour drive.

My Little Guapito

The last time I saw Beau was in October of last year. He was only about four months old then. Today, he is 13 months old, crawling, smiling, observing everything around him, and beginning to show his own little personality.

When I looked at him today and called him “Guapito” - my little handsome boy, he looked at me with an expression that seemed to say:

“Who is this old man looking at me with such a loving gaze?” I could not help but smile.

I was able to hold him in my arms for a few precious minutes and kiss him on his head for a few seconds. Those few minutes may sound insignificant to someone else.

To me, they were priceless. At my age, I am very conscious that every opportunity to hold a great-grandchild is a gift. I don't take these moments for granted anymore.

I was happy. I was grateful. And I felt incredibly blessed that I am still able to make the trip, hold him in my arms, and enjoy his presence.

Four Generations in One Photograph(see cover photo)

The photograph accompanying this post is especially meaningful to me because it represents four generations of our family.

There I am, the great-grandfather. Beside me is my oldest daughter, Dinah, Beau's grandmother.

In front of us is my granddaughter, Elaine, Beau's mother. And then there is little Beau Joseph, my great-grandson.

Four generations. One family. One photograph.

When I look at this picture, I realize that I am not simply looking at four people. I am looking at a small piece of our family's history.

I came to America as a young Filipino immigrant many decades ago. I could never have imagined then that one day I would be sitting at a restaurant table with my daughter, granddaughter, and great-grandson. The restaurant we dined for lunch was Art's Place in Rohnert Park, CA. I highly recommend it if you loved Italian food. 

Life has taken me from the Philippines to America, through graduate school, a long professional career, marriage, raising children, retirement, and eventually becoming a great-grandfather.

And now, here I am  still making memories with the fourth generation. That is something I deeply treasure.

Here are some more photos at the Restaurant during Our Lunch Time

We went to a Children Play Ground  Nearby after Lunch to Enjoy the Sun and More Visit Time

Proud of Elaine and Kyle

Beau is the son of my granddaughter Elaine and her husband, Kyle Joseph, my grandson-in-law.

They currently live in a suburb of Portland, Oregon. About three months ago, they accomplished something that makes me especially proud of them: they purchased their own home in a good neighborhood.

For a young married couple today, buying a home is not easy.

Housing prices are high. Interest rates can be difficult. The cost of raising a family continues to increase. Many young people across America find it increasingly difficult to achieve the dream of homeownership.

That is why I am particularly proud of Elaine and Kyle.

They have good jobs, they have worked hard, and they have demonstrated financial discipline and good judgment. They have been able to establish a home of their own during the early years of their married life.

As a grandfather, there is a special kind of satisfaction in watching your grandchildren become independent adults and build their own families.

Their success becomes your happiness.

Four Hours Together

Today, I spent only about four hours with Beau and his family after making a four-hour drive.

Some people might ask whether such a long drive is worth it for only four hours together.

My answer is simple: Absolutely.

I was able to reconnect with Beau. I was able to spend time with Elaine.

I was able to see my daughter Dinah. I was able to visit with Kyle.

And most importantly, I was able to see my great-grandson growing up.

He is no longer the tiny four-month-old baby I remember from October.

He is now crawling, looking around with curiosity, and beginning to understand the world around him. Children grow so quickly.

That is why I have learned that we must treasure these moments while they are happening.

We cannot save them for later. We cannot put them in a box and open it again.

Once a moment is gone, it becomes a memory. And today, I made another beautiful memory.

Tired, But Happy

Tonight, I am tired from the four-hour drive home. But it is a very special kind of tired.

It is the tiredness that comes after doing something that makes your heart happy.

As I sit and think about today's visit, I keep returning to those few minutes when I held Beau in my arms and kissed his little head.

I know that someday he may not remember that moment.

He may not remember that his great-grandfather drove four hours just to spend a few hours with him. But I will remember it.

And perhaps, many years from now, when Beau is a grown man with children of his own, he may look at this photograph and realize that he was loved by four generations of his family.

That is what family means to me. It is not only about our names or our genealogy.

It is about love that travels from one generation to another.

A Blessing Across Four Generations

As I look at this photograph tonight, I feel an enormous sense of gratitude.

I am grateful for my daughter Dinah. I am grateful for my granddaughter Elaine and her husband Kyle.

And I am especially grateful for little Beau Joseph, my APO SA TUHOD - my great-grandson.

At 91 years old, I know that life has given me much more than I could have imagined when I was a young man growing up in the Philippines.

I have experienced the joys and sorrows of life, the challenges of immigration, a long career, marriage, raising children, becoming a grandfather, and now becoming a great-grandfather.

Today reminded me once again that the greatest wealth we accumulate in life is not money. It is family, memories, and love.

The four-hour drive was long. The four hours I spent with my family went by much too quickly.

But the memory of today will stay with me for a very long time.

Thank you, Beau, my little Guapito, for giving your old great-grandfather one of his happiest days of 2026.

And thank you, God, for giving me the strength and opportunity to make the journey.

Four generations. One photograph. Four precious hours. A lifetime of love.

Personal Note: I have another great grandson, two months older than Beau. His name is Graham and the son of Dinah's son, Ian.  

Dinah and I plan to visit him this coming September 25th. That is a Friday, so If you can sub for me at our Bridge Game that Day, let me know.