My Holy Week penitensya was to clean my room. I had to sort through my stuff, and ended up getting rid of a lot of clothes and bags. The hardest thing about cleaning is coming across letters and files–with clothes, you just take a look and decide whether to keep or dump them, a process that generally takes a few seconds. With letters and files, you have to read through them, and that takes way too much time.
I decided to stop myself from reading every single letter in a box I found; otherwise, I would never finish cleaning. But I recognized my yaya’s writing on one envelope and couldn’t resist opening it. My beloved yaya, Dada Flora, passed away around three or four years ago, and I was devastated. She had retired about two weeks before, had gone home to her province, and there, she suddenly passed. I was so inconsolable that H had to come see me at work to make sure I was OK.
This letter turned out to be a 19-year-old birthday card, which Dada sent to me from the US, where she was working for my tito’s family. She said that she couldn’t buy me chocolates for my birthday, so she was just sending me $10. She also sent $2 each for my brothers. I was so incredibly touched by her gesture, moved by her thoughtfulness and her generosity. I understand and appreciate it more now than I did nearly two decades ago.
Boxes of letters, they take up space. But they serve as links to a past that I would have otherwise forgotten–and if they could allow me to experience the warmth and love sent out by a loved one ages ago…well, I could live with a little clutter.
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Add Commentapplegirl
awww. my gosh. that was so sweet. i was really touched. i don't really feel this way very often. you're lucky that you were able to have a yaya like her!
August 5, 2008 at 5:50 pm