Lua Hagedorn

     What’s your earliest memory? At family getogethers, when Uncles and Aunts recall your earliest antics,  do you remember? I sure couldn’t remember my feeding my 1 day old sister Corinne candy or the time I told an Uncle that his colds was falling into his food and he was practically eating it. It’s hard to remember events yes. But I do remember the people around me, and one of them is my Lola.

     My earliest memory I guess was climbing the guava trees of my lola.  My Lola’s guava fruits were the best. My Lola Maria watched and took care of them since they were buds. And we would look forward to the day when they would ripen and my Lola would hand us( Corinne then 2 years old and I was 5) equal parts of the days harvest. They were delicious.  And it was too much for me to resist my Lola’s command not to pick it myself. It was too dangerous she said and besides I do always seemed to pick them prematurely. I would walk around her guava trees everyday. Looking for fruits which I  percieve as ready for picking. Of course there would be times when there would be not enough fruits.  In a childs mind,  sharing is not that easy to accept. Then I would disobey the 11th commandment.  "Thou shalt not pick the guava fruits by thineself!!!!". I don’t know,  my Lola always caught me.  I swear she has eyes everywhere.  She was like God. She knew everything.  Even the most painful area where to pinch me as punishment.

     Anyway, I remember my Lola taking care of us. I would wake up and she would be there sitting in the kitchen waiting for us to pick our own eggs from her duck pen, standing over the "pinao*" always ready to cook our eggs " sunny side up" our favorite when we were kids. In the afternoon,  she would be cooking her banana que which she sells in the school canteen everyday. Of course she always sets aside the most sugary bananas for us her grandchildren. In the evening,  she would be cooking adobong mani which she leaves by the piano to cool before wrapping in individual plastics.  Of course we would take turns going and stealing her "paninda*".

     My Lola Maria is a hardworking woman.  And as a child I saw her perseverance and diligence.  She was always doing something. I remember seeing her with paperwork but I didn’t understand so much in those days.  I just knew and remember her always working. Always buzzing around the house doing something.  She reminded me of a bee. Always at work.  Even when sitting down she would be accomplishing something.

     Now, let’s shift to me. Unlike my Lola,  I’m not teacher.  Hell,  I didn’t even finish college. I always hated school, no,  loathed it. Unlike my Lola who’s always in school,  I wouldn’t go near a school.  Even attending the PTA meeting is torture for me. Alas!! The first Timbancaya who didn’t finish college was made official. Me. Good thing my last name was Padilla.

     A decade later, here I am.  Like any certified college flunker,  I am self employed. I own a 27 seater pizzeria where I myself cooked for the first 3 years. I hired and trained my staff all by myself and now after 5 years my business can exist without me in the kitchen.  I love my job.  I love what it earns for me.  I love my staff,  I love the respect it earns me.  And I love my Lola Maria.  I do believe I got this "business sense" gene from her. She was selling banana que and peanuts half of her life.  Helped my Lolo Tomas raise 10 children with her small thriving business. They sent their children to a reputable college. And I do believe the banana que and the peanuts made the difference.Now my Uncles and Aunties are well stablished. The children of Tomas and Maria Timbancaya did go a long way. Two teachers raising 10 kids, proudly sending them to university for college education. Sacrificed.  Now the third generation Timbancayas are battling our own battles but I know we’ll succeed.  We didn’t come all this way to head back, did we? So in my hardest and lowest moments,  I just think to myself.  My Lola Maria survived with the help of peanuts and bananas.  I sure would survive with my pizza and pasta.

* pinao- oven

paninda- wares

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 10th, 2007 at 9:49 am and is filed under My grandmother. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.