05.01.07
Auntie Floring
This morning I received an email from my cousin that one of my aunties passed away this morning around 5am Manila time. I’ve already spoken to my parents and am saddened by how sad they are. I just hate to see and hear them cry. Of course I am sad that my auntie passed, too, but I know that she’s lead a good, full life, and trusted in God. I am confident we will meet again.
Thinking of my auntie reminds me of so many things. She was a seamstress, and a very good one at that! She learned during a time when it was common-place for people to go to seamstresses to have clothes especially made. That was the time before “ready-made” clothes were the norm. Whenever she came to visit here in the U.S., she would have me go to the fabric store to pick out whatever fabrics I wanted, and she would sew up new outfits for me. You can imagine how I loved that and will always cherish those times! I can still remember her humor, too, as she would often make quick, smart remarks and then start chuckling. Ha! In return for her handiwork, I would take her to the mall and buy her costume jewelry. Oh, how she loved that stuff! She was so fun to go shopping with. So quiet, but her happiness would easily show through in her smile and in the gleam in her eyes. It’s hard not to cry when I think that she’s gone.
With the passing of my auntie, I think of another era in history gone by, when life was much different from today. I remember the stories my daddy has told me of when they were young kids. Once when I was visiting in the Philippines, my dad pointed out a river that we were passing. It was very small and weak looking, the passing water seemed merely a trickle. My daddy told me that when he was a kid, before WWII, that trickling water was a full river, and beautiful. As kids he and his siblings used to play and swim in there. He is one of ten children, so I could imagine lots of yelling and screaming going on along that bank. My auntie was just a young girl. And as children are, some are good and some are naughty. One of his brothers used to not like the stray cats, and so he would catch them and put them in a bag, tie it up, and throw them in the river. My dad and his other brother would then go out and swim in the river to get the bags of cats and let them out. Ha!
My grandfather, my dad’s dad, was a shoemaker. And he would teach the boys how to make shoes. They would all gather around in a circle while grandpa would show them how he made shoes. During that time, they also had a pig, who according to my dad, acted more like a dog. It would come and sit by my dad’s feet while he learned to make shoes. And when my dad approached home from school, that pig would rush out of the gate and greet my dad, just like a dog. Sadly, WWII came, and food became scarce. That little pig ended up on the dinner table. . .
As with every family, the stories go on. Another page in history turns along with all the joys and sadness the memories bring. Half of the ten siblings of my dad are now passed. Another generation going by. Seems such a brief moment in time, yet many more memories have been laid down during that time. I hope when I pass, I too will leave good memories to those I leave behind. Thank you, Auntie, for all the good memories. Until we see each other again. . .
Love always,
Marla
