My babies

Monday, March 15, 2010

Tenses

Last week was Princess's birthday. For other parents out there, you know what this means. It is yet another event that you have to prepare for and really just hope you don't mess up. It means treats for her class, cake to be ordered, the kid choosing the menu for dinner, the birthday present, and planning for the party.

So my day went from busy to frenetic pdq. I started the day at 5am. I needed to get prepped for special birthday breakfast which Hubby thankfully woke up early to make. Turkey bacon, waffles, scrambled eggs with blue cheese, white cranberry peach juice, and milk: a feast fit for a Princess. After I got the family off to their places, Lil'T and I went to the grocery store to get a strawberry cake for dessert after dinner, and ice cream for Princess's class. Surprisingly, I was able to find the strawberry cake easily -- even in March with random acts of freezing weather happening outside. I couldn't find the orange vanilla cups she requested and settled for popsicles which had orange vanilla. I crossed my fingers that there wouldn't be too much disappointment. You never know what is going to set off the whining and much dreaded tears. Living with children is like living with crazy people. Add a birthday into the mix and the crazy only magnifies. Off to the school I went and dropped off the treats with the front office.

I only had until 2 pm to get the next big part of the day done. I was off to the sporting goods store to find a tetherball set. Princess had her heart set on one for her birthday. Then I went to Costco to get her favorite frozen lasagne. I try not to think of it as an insult to my cooking that she prefers frozen lasagne to my home cooking. I instead concentrated on how nice it was that I didn't have to cook on top of everything else.

Lil'T was starting to pumpkin out by the time we had checked out and asked to have a Costco slice of pizza for lunch. On a Thursday in the middle of the day, Costco is the busiest place on the planet. It was so crowded that we were stuck looking for some kind soul to share their table with us. I spotted a tata sitting by himself in the corner. He was wearing a baseball cap the way my dad always did, more like a hat than a cap. It was perched up there not fully pulled down, so he looked like his forehead must be at least 5 inches tall if the cap was touching the top of his head. I walked over to him and asked him if it would be okay for us to share his table. He kind of made an uncomfortable smile and pointed behind me where his wife was walking towards him with their drink cups. I said that it was just the two of us and his wife ultimately answered saying that it would be okay.

I sat down and could tell that Lil'T was not too sure about sitting with these strangers but somehow, that lady sure sounded familiar. I leaned over to T and said, "That lady sounds a lot like Lola, yeah?" That was all it took.

The woman asked me, "Pilipina?" I told her that I was and then it was all better.

We started talking about where we were from, what flavor of Filipino we were, and how at first the tata thought that I was Japanese. He actually tried to speak a little bit of Tagalog and Ilocano to me. Too bad I didn't know any.

And then it happened. The moment when I made a decision to lie a little bit.

Tata asked me, "Are your parents still in Hawaii?"

I sat there knowing that I could answer truthfully or in the way that I wish it were. I went with the latter.

"Yes, my parents live in Hawaii." Followed by all kinds of pronouncements in the wrong tense.

"No, my dad doesn't speak Tagalog, but he's learning Hawaiian."

"My dad's brothers and sister all live in Hawaii."

It was a nice chat. Maybe my kids' crazy is rubbing off on me. Just felt so natural to talk to them like my dad and my uncles who have died didn't. Why did these people need to know my private pain?

Then I jumped right back into the fast stream and raced Lil'T to school (about an hour late), went off to church to walk the kids to religious ed classes, delivered an order of cookies, and then raced off to Aikido where the dreaded whining and crying finally came because I couldn't find Princess' Aikido belt and she didn't want to walk into class without it, despite her sensei having dozens of white belts lying around because the kids test out of them all the time! Raced off to pick up Lil'T and then raced off to the ferry to pick up Hubby. Then it was back to Aikido where Princess had tested up to a yellow belt! Hurrah! Side benefit being that the lost white belt can stay lost. Then it was dinner, cake, ice cream, tetherball, birthday phone calls, and (praise God) bedtime.

It wasn't until later that I could process my conversation with the older Filipino couple at Costco. Somewhere in this world, there are 2 strangers who think that my dad and my uncles are still alive. I know that it is irrational and kind of strange. I'm not entirely sure why I didn't just speak truthfully. Maybe it was their familiar accented English that got me reminiscent and a little heart sick for home. There is a comfort that there are these strangers for whom I am a woman whose dad is still alive and he is still wondering about his next trip to visit the grand babies, still playing his uke and learning Hawaiian, still calling with his recipe for roast chicken. Still.

1 comment:

Debbie said...

Your uncle Nofre was my godfather. Thank you for posting.


debbie