Regina Balingit Acosta, beloved mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, great-great-grandmother, sister, aunt, and friend, passed away suddenly on July 6, 2026, in Tucson, Arizona, at the age of 87.

Regina was born on September 8, 1938, at Fort McKinley in the Philippines, the second of eight children of Aniceto Balingit and Felisa Yamat. She was born into a world on the verge of war. The Philippines was a United States commonwealth, and radio was only beginning to enter people's homes. Within three years, World War II and the Japanese invasion of the Philippines would drastically change the course of her childhood.

Regina’s early years unfolded in the Philippines during this occupation. Her father, a soldier in the United States Army's Philippine Scouts, went to fight in defense of their homeland. In his absence, the Japanese occupation forced Regina's mother to flee with her children. Abandoning their home, the family was on the run for weeks at a time, foraging in the jungle for food and spending terrifying hours silent and still for fear of discovery by the Japanese soldiers. Survival became second nature for Regina.

In October 1944, American forces began liberating the Philippines, and by August 1945, Japanese forces had surrendered. Following the war, Regina's father became a United States citizen through his military service. He returned to active duty and was eventually posted in Japan. In August 1955, Regina and her family moved to Japan and were reunited with her father there. In September 1956, the family came to the United States with him and settled at Fort Lewis, Washington, where he was stationed.

Regina married Elmo S. Acosta on January 11, 1958, at McChord Air Force Base. Together they raised two children, Elmo Jr. and Elena. As military life took them to Colorado, Texas, Turkey, England, Arizona, and eventually California, Regina anchored the family. With each new transfer, she created a rich home, softening the landing for her children wherever they went. She had a remarkable gift for instilling a sense of home within the family—a home that could endure independently of place. Regina became a United States citizen in Abilene, Texas, in 1965. In 1978, she returned to the Philippines for a time before eventually settling permanently in the United States.

Regina moved through the world with the depth of someone who endured and witnessed the darkness of humanity. She rarely spoke of what she had witnessed during the war in the Philippines, but when she did, the images were vivid. She carried this with her.

None of this showed on the surface. Regina had a smile that would light up the room. She was a quiet observer and quick to laugh. She held space for those around her. Nothing escaped her.

She immersed herself in creative endeavors, always making—sewing, building, sourcing materials from her immediate surroundings. Her ingenuity came naturally. She made things beautifully and with precision.

She was an entrepreneur at heart. As a child during the war, she grew and sold vegetables on the roadside. Later, as an adult in America, Regina sewed potpourri sachets and invented her own iced tea concentrate that she sold at the flea market. She would take in alterations from friends and neighbors, clean houses, collect recycling—she was resourceful.

Regina was a voracious reader, always reading the newspaper, magazines, and books that she scavenged at the thrift store—whatever she could get her hands on.

But almost more than anything, Regina loved watermelon. It was not unusual to find her digging into an entire watermelon, cut in half lengthwise, methodically chipping away juicy bites with a fork until both halves were gone.

She was deeply generous with her family and showed her love in everyday ways. She cooked, babysat, cleaned, did laundry, and sewed Halloween costumes or bridal dresses. She was happiest when she could make something, give something, or do something for someone she loved.

In her later years, Regina made her home in Tucson, surrounded by the devoted care of her son, Elmo, and daughter-in-law, Ann. She spent much of her time at her favorite table beside the window, reading, eating watermelon, or bingeing cat videos on YouTube. She remained especially happy to see her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren, greeting them with the same smile and joyful laughter that had always been hers.

Regina lived through a world that changed almost beyond recognition. She was born before television had entered most American homes, before commercial air travel transformed the way people moved through the world, and before computers and the internet.

Through all those changes, some things remained constant: she was a survivor, always making, always learning, always finding a way, and always loving her family.

Regina was quiet, and perhaps because of that, parts of her were easy to miss. But beneath her reserve was a woman of extraordinary ingenuity, creativity, intelligence, sensitivity, and resilience.

To know Regina was to love her.

Regina was preceded in death by her parents, Aniceto and Felisa Balingit; her husband, Elmo S. Acosta, Sr.; her sister, Norma Balingit; and her former daughter-in-law, Dana Acosta.

She is survived by her children, Elmo Acosta, Jr., and Elena Pierson; her grandchildren, Mindi Acosta, Christina Pierson, Victor Acosta, Mikey Pierson, and Emily Acosta; her ten great-grandchildren; her two great-great-grandchildren; her siblings, Hermie Calimquin, Dellie Punla, Fellie Esnil, Albert Balingit, Lee Balingit, and Aniceto Balingit, Jr.; and her extended family.