Letters to my Lola (grandmother) & Lolo (grandfather)

It's been about 5 years since my Lola (grandmother in Pilipino) passed away. I think of her often and miss her very much. I've found as time passes: the girls grow older, my parents grow older, my husband, Pretty Pants, and I grow older, the importance of family grows stronger, the memories get richer.

The Meatball was lucky enough to have met my Lola. We have a photograph of them together in our living room, the Meatball's face close-up with her great Lola's face beaming in the shadow behind her. Of course, she doesn't remember as much as I do since my Lola was with me for most of my childhood. As immigrant, working parents, the Colonel and Rambo didn't have a network of friends and relatives, so the Colonel's parents, my Lolo and Lola would take turns coming from the Philippines to help raise me. It wasn't too unusual for my parents to do this, since having three (even four) generations in a family is customary in the Philippines.

I remember when one grandparent would be here they would ask for me to write a letter to the other. Ever since I could remember living with one grandparent in my parents home, I would write, "To my dearest Lolo, to my dearest Lola..." As a child, the letters wouldn't be too long, maybe one page and a drawing I made in school. Each letter would state pretty much the same thing: how happy I was to hear from them, how I'm doing in school, what I'm doing in school, how my parents were doing, how my dog was doing, and how I was being a good girl. In return, I would also receive letters stating the same thing: how was my health, how happy they were to hear from me, how happy they were that I was doing well in school, to always remember to be healthy, remember my prayers and be good to my parents.  I exchanged letters with my grandparents for about a good decade or so in my life. Initially, it was part of a routine, something I always just did, not until I came across a letter my Lolo wrote during my freshman year of college did I realize how important these letters were. Reading through my Lolo's letter, I can imagine him sitting at his writing desk, my letter on the left, his cup of coffee on the right, inserting the delicate typing paper into his now antiqued, typewriter, communicating with his Apo (granddaughter). How beautiful these letters are to read now!

In an age of e-mails, texts, acronyms, half sentences, one word answers, emoticons, I wonder (and sometimes fear) what communications my own children, future grandchildren will remember of me? I've heard that some parents create an e-mail address for each of their children to "write" like a journal of letters of their youth. I haven't tried that, I'm actually still open to writing letters, starting with, "To my dearest Apo..."

Relishing ME Time

I'm sitting at my kitchen table with dinner cooking on the stove. Listening to the new Roots album from my iTunes. A glass of cab on my left, the mouse on my right. It's a unique Tuesday at 7:57 pm. A Tuesday with NO KIDS.

Spaghetti and Meatball are ending their summer with some much needed grandparent time. I honestly don't know who needed it more: me, my husband, the girls or the grandparents. The funny thing about enjoying this silence is the dread I felt knowing these 4 life-without-kids'-days were coming. The guilt of feeling happy about them being gone hung over me like a fog. I couldn't see through the guilt and be honest with myself enough to say, "Self, you need this break."

This kind of reminds me of habits and routines. We get so used to doing the same thing in and out week by week with the kids in tow. Take them here, take them there, make them dinner, help with homework, read them a story, put them to bed, hope they stay in bed. Lather, rinse, repeat. I find myself getting so caught up in these routines, for my kids, that it takes NO KIDS days like this to realize how dependent I am on them as they are on me.  Sadly, I had to force myself to remember what I needed to take care of ME on this day 1 of 4 NO KIDS days. But I'm happy to report it was worth it!

Getting caught up in day to day when you don't know which way is up has only come upon me recently with the event of the 2 year old Spaghetti aka our tornado, but that's another blog post. Tonight, I'm happy with refilling my wine glass, enjoying a meal for 2 with Pretty Pants, turning off this computer and enjoying the silence sans kids.

Rice - It's what brings us together

The most common staple in our household has to be rice. We have rice for the majority of our meals. Rice with dinner, rice with lunch, rice with breakfast.  You get the picture.

I find it so fascinating that food is a way of learning about one's culture (think Anthony Bourdain's popularity) or in this case, retaining one's cultural heritage. For as long as I could remember, all my family meals were served with rice and now as an parent, I've subconsciously taken this way of eating with me and serve my family rice with every meal. In fact, Spaghetti's favorite meal is chicken with rice!

There isn't too much variance away from eating rice. I actually think it would be very challenging not to have rice as part of our diet. Part of the reason why is because we're so used to it, the other half would probably be the fear of losing that part of my identity. Remembering fond memories of partaking in meals (rice included) w/my parents and wanting the same for my children may just put more emphasis on rice not just for a meal but to hold on to the tradition.

Do you have any foods in your family that have stood the test of time?