Monday, August 27, 2007

Four Generations

My grandmother (my mother's mother) turned eighty yesterday. Marguerite, who knows her as bisabuela, went to visit her bearing carnations and a balloon. That same afternoon though, our city had a bike tour, which our church took part in, so my Dad, Sister and the other cousins joined that one first before heading over to Grandmother's house. They received a drenching towards the end of the run, which was not any big surprise because, really! Outdoor activity + monsoon season = many people going home soaking wet. But hey, anything for our beloved city. Cousin Big C, who is our grandmother's roommate, stayed behind with us and got things ready. There was a small celebration with a menu that's designed to suit Grandmother's condition (she's a diabetic), but drowned rat types don't notice if food's a bit on the bland side. It wasn't anyway. The food was good, if not as salty or as sweet as Mariqueños like it. By the way, diabetes is practically the city's disease of choice. Mariqueños boast of a whole set of sweet teeth. Even their dentures (which they got after all the sugar had rotted the originals) maintain their taste for sweets.
I'm naturally happy that both my grandmothers are still alive, not only for the obvious reason that I love them and don't want them to die, but also because I really want Marguerite to know them. My paternal grandmother is in California and Marguerite has yet to meet her, but she (Grandma C) is strong and healthy so I'm sure there's time for great-granddaughter and great-grandmother to get acquainted.
I'd love for Marguerite to have an idea how important and how influential bisabuela was and is to my life. All through my growing up years, she was a steady force that kept everything moving like clockwork for the entire clan. She was definitely a terrific and formidable lady, but has been now mellowed by time and age. Regarding her as she is now makes me face the verity of a person's mortality. It can rock the arrogance of youth right out of my system. Once upon a time, they, too, thought that they were indestructible. The wisdom gained in the passing of the years replaced the cocky assuredness of fresh, young days.
Marguerite goes to see bisabuela everyday. She eagerly points to the door whenever somebody says, "Come, let's visit bisabuela." Grandmother, in turn, is cheered up by the little one's babbles and antics. That's a right blessing. I'm glad that my grandmother and my daughter, despite the span of generations, find delight in their fellowship with one another.

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maf said...

real beauty passes from one generation to another...:=)

spinninglovelydays said...

awww! thanks, maf!:)