from Ricky!

Family Gathering

By Ricky

Families are wonderful to have aren’t they? Sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces, grand-nieces, grand-nephews, cousins, aunts, uncles, and all sorts of in-laws, the lot of them when gathered in the confines of a living room, a dining room, a kitchen - speaking to ten, twenty different people all at once, they are indeed a sight to behold, a sound to reckon with, a gift to treasure. Pangasinan rules. English, Tagalog and Ilocano, they sit in corners somewhere almost sulking and wanting equal time.

The groups are interesting to watch let alone be a part of. Nieces and nephews travel with their own iPods, laptops, PSPs depending on what age level they are. They’ve taken over the living room, slouched, head bent uncomfortably down, and disturbingly quiet. Aunts perfectly made-up are tackling the insurmountable task of cleaning plastic cups, plastic spoons, plastic forks, and anything tin foil. This might explain why they’re the ones wearing the bling-blings. Uncles who decide to brave the outdoor and gather around an oak tree drinking beer with octopus polutan doing their own reminiscing. Grand nieces and nephews (apos) are running around the yard bathing in pine needles supervised by the family dogs and one father-of-the-year. And the in-laws, well, they’re in the TV room. Half are watching TV and the others are taking naps.

Playing the host, I have to be multi-lingual, traipsing from one clique to another, but I’m drawn to the loroyan (jokes), elekan (laughs), sutilan (teasing) coming from my siblings gathered around the kitchen table. "Nanonotan mo nen ogaw ti ni" (do you remember when we were kids) usually starts every other dialogue. We laugh at the most irrelevant stories, like when I used to run around the house sprinkling vinegar in every nooks and cranny right before a big storm. No one can explain exactly why I did this. My excuse, I must have been told to do it. Then there’s the time when my brothers got circumcised by the angalakan (river). They were told to use chewed up leaves for medicinal purposes and walked around the house in skirts. Or the time when it rained stones in our house! Glass windows were later replaced by plywood all because of this psychotic neighbor we had.

Speakingof neighbors, we had plenty who kept us entertained. As politically incorrect as it may sound, and as ignorant as we may seem, we poked fun at Kuya Mario ya doleng, Nana Oping ya bukot saman, Mama Gardo ya pukol (a New Year’s incident), not to mention teachers, priests, yes even the nuns did not escape our unscrupulous sweet bantering down memory lane: Sister Vilma Santos who looked more like Nora Aunor, Father Lee Majors who looked like Six Million Dollar man, Mrs. Baybayin who started all her Pilipino lessons with "Klase, baybayin natin ang wikang …". They all seemed easy targets, but in all likelihood these people also helped us be who we are now.

My mom, too, is part of the discussion. She tells the group about her stories when she was growing up. She accurately names places and her brothers and sisters and what games they played. She is able to describe in details her outfits, or what she said to boys. She laughs, we laugh even harder. She’s one of us, kids remembering what it was like growing up. She doesn’t know us, doesn’t remember us, but it’s okay, we can live with this, for now. Tears spill over not from sadness but from happiness that even for just a glimmer of a minute, we see her growing up, we see the girl who became our mom and is now back in her childhood, eyes squinting trying hard to remember, head tilted questioning, and lips smiling, teasing her audience.

Family is a gift to be treasured forever.---#