The company of an old grandaunt's Journals
Last night I was sifting through my grandaunt Filomena's journals. She left them for me when she passed away in 2007. This is a memory that I always enjoy reminiscing and I don't know if I'll ever write it down accurately enough but I felt like touching the pages of old notebooks and snippets of little notes scratched on newspapers and postcards she labeled "musings at midnight". The scent of time passing were on the pages and the dust that's collected between them. They reminded me of old libraries and wood paneled walls.
She was a widow with no children to her name and all she can held dearly of her life was her one great love. His name was Telesforo Polvorosa, a troubadour who swept her by the feet and showed her the world.
Her parents was not so happy about the relationship because he was a divorcee. But her heart was drawn and she never let go.
I often wonder about what God would've thought about my grandaunt's life. I remember watching her crooked fingers as she showed me her notebooks and told me, "I don't know who to leave these to because nobody seems to enjoy them as much as I do, but it looks like you do."
As she lay on the hospital bed during my last visit to her I was surprised at her lucid statement, "Please pick up your things in my house. They are in the cabinet by the living room. Don't forget your things."
On the way to airport that afternoon I saw an image of her in my mind. All young again and singing her favorite songs in her lovely soprano. I knew she would pass soon enough. Five days after I left my hometown we got a call that she was gone.
I wrote about 6 letters to her and she always wrote back. She was one of those people who consoled me in times of confusion and aloneness. She was one of those people I would turn to when I needed to sift a lot of things inside me. She made it feel comfortable to wade in all these reminiscences and memories.
They say she lived in the past too much and never got to live in the present. I don't know. I think she loved her past and it made her endure the present while waiting for her next bus home.