Boy Abunda (left) and his Nanay Lesing —FACEBOOK
Boy Abunda loves to talk for the simple reason that his mother loved to talk.
Growing up, birthdays and special occasions were rarely celebrated. But there were always conversations to be had with his late Nanay Licerna “Lesing” Abunda.
“For my mom, celebration is conversation,” Boy told reporters over dinner for his new, limited talk show series, “My Mother, My Story.”
And if she were still with him today, Mother’s Day would likely be spent doing just that. “She loved talking about different topics, engaging in debates, having a laugh. So, we would probably just stay at home and cook our favorite Waray dishes,” the veteran talk show host said.
One of Boy’s unforgettable moments from his early years in Manila was spending the day at Luneta Park with his mother, talking about everything under the sun. “We would bring a folding bed there… We didn’t have money to go anywhere else,” said Boy, who hails from Borongan City in Eastern Samar.
“There were a lot of Waray people there. And when we’re around fellow Warays, we will always find something to talk about,” he added.
Nanay Lesing, who passed away in 2019 at the age of 90, was “funny, strong and kind. She always found a reason to be happy, no matter how hard life was.”
And it goes without saying that a great deal of who he is as a person is because of his mother, from the little quirks—like the way he plays with toothpicks before and after meals—to the core values that shaped him into the person he is today.
Confidence, strength
He owes his confidence to his mother.
“Growing up, she coached me for declamation contests. I loved it. She always reminded me to take heart whenever I competed. She would reassure me, even before the contest started, that I was a winner,” he said.
“Looking back, I can’t help but wonder: ‘Was she saying that just to make me feel confident? Did she really believe in me? Or did she just want to humor me? Either way, what she did gave me courage,” he said.
He owes his strength and tenacity in solving problems to his mother.
“When my father passed away, we didn’t have the money to get his body released from the hospital. We didn’t know what to do… My mother was in the province then. One day, one of my uncles arrived with the money we needed. We were able to pay the bills and bring my father to Samar.”
“Upon arriving, my mother, matter-of-factly, said: ‘Our house is mortgaged to the Philippine National Bank,’” Boy recalled.
“I was in second year college back then. We never talked about it, but somehow, she managed to pay it off. I knew that her first instinct wasn’t to borrow money or sell belongings—something that I have adapted.
“I’m strong and became a better problem-solver because of her. She was methodical. She always said that, when there’s a problem, write it down. List down your options. My mother was able to raise me with nothing, without complaining. I saw how she moved when there was a problem. And she would always tell me not to take everything seriously, because everything eventually passes.”
Love, inspiration
“My Mother, My Story” was born of Boy’s love for his mother. The show, currently set for airing every second Sunday of the month, aptly starts on May 12, Mother’s Day. “This is very personal, emanating from my core persona, which is devoted to my mother, in her life and death,” Boy said.
Initially set for a six-month run, the pilot episode will feature Luis Manzano, with his mother, Vilma Santos, and his brother, Ryan Recto, watching and giving commentary from behind the scenes.
“It’s the story of the mother through the lens of a child. They intersect in the middle, and it’s almost always bound by respect and love. That’s the arc of the narrative… It was fun seeing Vilma react to what Luis was saying,” said Boy, who described the new show as “more relaxed, homey and free-flowing.”
“It’s about trying to know the person, the celebrity, based on how they were raised,” he added. “It’s gentle and very emotional.”
To this day, many of his personal and career endeavors are inspired by his mother. “The first thing I see when I come home is her photo. To this day, my decision-making still involves her,” he pointed out. “‘Ano kaya ang sasabihin ni nanay?’ I would wonder.”
It has been four years since she died, but the pain has yet to go away. And he doesn’t want it to. “I have said this before and I will say it again: I’m not afraid. I want to bear that pain because it’s the remaining physical connection I have with my mother. As long as the pain is there, I’m good,” he said.