If you’ve been around this blog for a while, you know my smoking-hot wife is from the Philippines. And if you know anything about Filipino families, you know that sending balikbayan boxes home isn’t just a nice gesture — it’s a full-blown tradition, a labor of love, and occasionally a minor logistics operation.
Recently we sent another round of boxes, and let me tell you, the process has evolved over the years from “throw a few things in a cardboard box” to something that feels like preparing a small expedition.
It starts the same way every time: the Closet Raid.
We dig through drawers and closets looking for clothes that still look brand new but somehow no longer fit either of us. Shirts that mysteriously shrank in the wash, pants that suddenly got tighter after too many good dinners, jackets that have been hanging there for three years waiting for a thinner day that never came. If it still has the tags or looks barely worn, it’s going in the pile. Nothing gets wasted when family is involved.
Then comes the Costco run.
This is where the real magic (and the heavy lifting) begins. Instant coffee on sale? Buy a case. Toothpaste by the pound? Load it up. Coffee creamer, pancake mix, chocolate, more chocolate, and whatever else is on a good deal that week. We walk those giant aisles like we’re stocking a small store, because in a way… we are. Every item is chosen with specific people in mind — “this is for Tita,” “Ate will love this,” “the kids will go crazy for these.”
Once everything is home, the living room, the spare bedroom, the dinning room and the garage turns into packing central. Boxes get filled, layered, and rearranged until every cubic inch is used. Then comes the important part: labeling and serious taping. We’re talking multiple layers of packing tape, clear labels, and that satisfying “this isn’t going anywhere” feeling when you finish sealing each one.
Finally, the moment of truth — loading the truck.
Hundreds of pounds of carefully packed love get wrestled into the bed of the truck. It’s not elegant. It’s a little sweaty. There’s some strategic stacking involved. But there’s also a quiet satisfaction in knowing that every single box is headed to family who will open it with big smiles and maybe a little happy chaos.
From there it’s off to Ate Karen’s to be shipped as freight. Mission complete… until the next round.
What I love most about this whole process is how it has grown with us. What used to feel like a simple errand has become a rhythm we both look forward to. It’s practical, it’s personal, and it’s one more way we stay connected across the ocean.
And of course, none of it happens without my smoking-hot wife leading the charge. She knows exactly who needs what, which brands are preferred, and how to pack a box so that everything arrives in one piece. I just provide the truck, the muscle, and the occasional “Are we really buying this much toothpaste?” commentary.
Another set of boxes is on its way. Somewhere in the Philippines, family is about to get a very welcome surprise.