Gratitude in Difficult Times
The Story Behind the Marica Notecards Project
Thanksgiving is a few days away here in the U.S. I thought this would be the right moment to talk about the Marica Notecards project—one that is close to my heart. If you’ve been a long-time subscriber to Sundays with Stella, you probably noticed a short description of this project below every post these past few months.
The Marica Notecards are named after my oldest sister, whom we lost unexpectedly last January. These blank notecards feature my abstract collages that reflect stories and memories of her life.
Ate Marica (Ate is the Filipino term for older sister) was the kind of person whose gentle, quiet demeanor and genuine concern made you feel seen. Family was everything to her, and she poured her love into the smallest gestures—preparing coffee and breakfast when we gathered together, ensuring we had cellphones and mobile data whenever we were in Manila.
She was a voracious reader, as a child, poring through volumes on ancient civilizations, Greek mythology, and art movements, as well as Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys mysteries. I heard words like “Constantinople,” “Byzantine,” “Alexander the Great,” “Zeus,” and “Medusa” long before I encountered them in my history classes at school.
Ate Marica also had an adventurous palate. She loved trying new dishes from different regions of the world and was often curious about how they were prepared. She listened to cooking podcasts—”Dish” was a favorite—and enjoyed experimenting with various kitchen gadgets. She loved wine, beer, and whiskey, immersing herself in their nuances and fascinated by their origin stories.
She had an eclectic taste in music, ranging from pop, soul, and jazz to classical, Broadway, and E.D.M. Sondheim was a favorite, as was the musical Wicked.
Ate Marica was an educator at heart. She tutored young students in English and math while helping high-schoolers with their college applications and essays. She was thrilled every time one of her students received an acceptance letter.
In her final months, she was hospitalized multiple times—two surgeries and an emergency-room admission. Reflecting on those days together, what has stayed with me most is that she never failed to thank her two caregivers: nurses, doctors, attendants, medical residents, priests, and nuns. Even after she received her grave prognosis and before she lost her speech, she continued to express gratitude. Every evening before I left to go home and rest, we’d clasp hands and embrace. “Thanks, Stells,” she’d say, followed by “Love you.”
When I decided to go back to school to pursue photography in my late twenties, she pulled me aside and said, “Stells, I want to support you.” The thought had never crossed my mind to ask her. She deposited two hundred dollars into my account each month for three years—her hard-earned money. She believed in me before I truly believed in myself.
The Marica Notecards are my way of honoring her—carrying forward her spirit of kindness and gratitude. They’re a reminder that the small gestures we overlook are often the ones that matter most.
An Invitation
As we move into this season of Thanksgiving and the holidays ahead, I invite you to be part of this project. Send a note of thanks. Let someone know you’re thinking of them. Help me carry Ate Marica’s spirit forward. Each card is a small gesture of the kindness and gratitude she lived by.
Your support means the world to me. Thank you for believing in me, just as she always did.
Thank you for inviting me to join you every Sunday in your inbox. I am grateful and appreciative for spending a small part of your day with me. If you have the means to support Sundays with Stella, please consider becoming a paid subscriber. Those who contribute financially will ensure that this place of inspiration, creativity, and meaning remains free and open to all.
ANOTHER WAY TO SUPPORT SUNDAYS WITH STELLA
By request, I’ve created a support page where you can contribute in any amount—via credit card, PayPal, or Venmo. Your generosity helps keep this space open and accessible to all. Thank you, always, for reading.
Your love for your sister comes through so beautifully. Thank you for sharing a bit of her with us.
I can feel the love and gratitude that both of you had for each other and that you still emanate! Although, I never knew her, her loss is felt! I love that you keep her alive through your writing and your art! Thank you for sharing this!