Fr. Mike, this past Mother's Day, made it a point to include favorite aunts in the list of Mothers and grandmothers that were asked to stand up for a special blessing during Mass on this day. Bob, my husband, noted the mention of favorite aunts in the list and cited my daughter Bettina could be an example. She is my two grandkids', Maddie and Luca's, favorite aunt. Not surprising. She loves to lavish them with goodies and toys and most importantly her time and love.
Growing up I had several wonderful aunts on both my mother side and father side. One in particular is my favorite aunt. She is my Tita Awing. Her full name is Aurora Cortes. She was single like her two other sisters and brother. She taught grade school in the public schools in the Philippines. I remember her full page photo made it to a magazine. I wish I kept it. She was shown talking to one of her students. She had her dark rimmed glasses on and on her wrist was a rubber band, a small detail which I fondly remember. Her eyes show intensity and caring intention as she closely talked to the child.
I was often compared to her as a child especially when I was my overly enthusiastic self, as in being all over the place. Unlike her other sisters, she was more carefree and less rigid. A bit scattered brain or random, you might say. She was not as neat as the other sisters either. She also was less demure. I was her carbon copy.
My family spent summers at my maternal grandmother, Lola Sefa’s, house in Quezon City. It had four bedrooms and one of them was occupied by my Tita Awing. It had dressing table, tocador, on top of which was my Tita Awing’s beautiful photo in an elegant butterfly sleeved Filipina dress or saya. She had her trademark wide smile on her happy face.
I used to go with her to many gatherings and one time I lost her and mistakenly grabbed somebody else's skirt. She also took me to her friend's houses with her. I was her shadow. I remember her visiting a friend where there were a lot of children. When one of their relatives arrived from the market or palengke, they enthusiastically greeted her and before you know it all the bananas were gone. They took them from the basket and ate them. They could not wait.
She loved to cook just like her other sisters. During Christmas, my parents would request her to prepare her famous macaroni salad and meat roll, embutido, en masse. My parents would give them as gifts to their loyal customers, suki, of our gas station.
She never dated as far as I know but she was matched to a guy or two to her chagrin. I did not hear any love stories from her and I never asked
I have asked her to go with me to events when I was in my twenties. I took her once to a retreat for young women and during a session she was a hoot making us all laugh with her humor and wit. She was not intimidated being with ladies 30 or so younger than her. She blended right in.
She did care about me in some way. I remember I used to talk to a guy on the phone who I was introduced to by my friend. Later on we quit conversing and my Tita Awing expressed her regret that that friendship ended. She said something like it was good to talk to somebody with the same wavelength or something to that effect.
When she retired, she lived in a house with her brother Tio Emong. Once in awhile she would come visit us in our house bringing leche flan or other goodies.
Underneath her carefree ways, was a person with integrity and grit. I was not there during her last days but my brother Chot was. Her pain was so great my brother said blood was oozing from her.
I did not know about her death until I innocently asked my cousin in law how Tita Awing was, My cousin in law told me she passed away the previous year. I was upset that nobody wrote me about it. My sister said they did not want me to be depressed, especially being away from home, .since Tita Awing and I were quite closed.
I believe her birthday is coming up. I somehow woke up this morning thinking of her. She must be asking for prayers or just wanted me to remember her.
Tita Awing thanks for the memories and your love. Love Ondes.
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