On Sunday, I cooked up some Pork Steak for the family. But it wasn’t the usual recipe I used to cook. I did with a twist, meaning with a bit of labored style. Hihi. Then I realized, if I hadn’t talked to my sister about the style, then I wouldn’t have figured out it was my late Lola Puring’s style.
Lola Puring was my (maternal) grandmother. She was a great cook, you know. She used to excite her friends and clients when she cooks for them. She baked the first and softest cake I have ever tasted. She cooked the tastiest Siopao with the best aroma ever (it would wake up our entire neighborhood) and I could just go on and on and probably drone you to sleep. :hide: Maybe all our lolas are like this to us. =)
But to me, my Lola Puring was more than that (as your lola is to you).
I remember when I was in grade school; I used to have those moments when I just cry out my feelings for things that disappoint. One morning, I was alone in the house and my class was not to start until noontime, I bawled like a child crying for its mother. I guess I was so loud my lola heard me (obviously because she lived in the next house. Hihi.) She then rushed to my side and was very calm about it. She was not hysteric, whatsoever. She tried asking what I was crying about and kept throwing clues at me for me to nod or shake my head, or say yes or no, but I just won’t. I just kept on crying for that thing I was disappointed about and crying even more because I was embarrassed for getting caught. Let alone, she might tell my mother about it. Lol! So I just cried and cried and she just sat there waiting and waiting for me to calm down and stop. Looking back, I realized, sometimes when someone’s upset and whether he or she is bawling or ranting, all you have to do is just sit back, wait, and listen. That is all you need to do; and at that early age, my Lola taught me that.
My father, her son–in–law, also has the fondest memories of her. There were three actually that stand out from the stories he keeps on sharing to us whenever he’d find the chance. Haha. First, he would recount an instance when he and my mama used to live with my grandparents. One day, my father was watching a cowboy movie in the living room. Then my grandmother passed by.
Ben (my father): Ma, manan–aw tag salida.
Lola Puring: Unsa may salida, Ben?
Ben: Cowboy man ni, Ma.
Lola: Ay di ko.
Ben: Nganu man, Ma? Si Charles Bronson baya gadala ani.
Lola: Di ko kay abog.
Lol!
In that story, if you noticed, my father mentioned the name Charles Bronson a matter of factly. This is because my Lola was such a fan of movie stars both in Hollywood and in the country. There was one story my father and mother would share to us that we’d end up having tears in our eyes from too much laughing. This goes with endearment to our Lola, of course: One night, my Lola and her cousin were in a hurry to catch the last full show of one of Amanda Fuentes’ movies. Then, after ten minutes, my Lolo saw them back home. Looking at my Lola’s ultimate “sapot” face, my Lolo got curious.
Lolo: O, nganu naa na man mo?
Lola: Gisirad–an nami (with matching bundak–bundak sa mga butang.) Kani man gud si Tinang (her cousin) dugayan kaayo! Giingnan na pagdali kay masirad–an na. Hinay kaayo…(blah–blah–blah and she went on an on for minutes like a kid having tantrums.)
Lolo: Anaaah si Puring! Kay wa pay ugma?
And that was the only time my Lola stopped ranting and shaking things around. She must have realized that the movie was still showing the day after and the day after until next week. Lol!
Thirdly, in line with my Lola’s fascination on movie stars, she gave me my name. I found out she got my name from Leslie Caron, the French actress and dancer who has starred in old movies such as Gigi. :hide: Since I was born after 3 years of 2 consecutive boys in the whole clan, everyone was looking forward to me including my Lola. She would always remind my father to name me “Leslie”. Then my father would tease her several times before I was baptized:
Ben: Unsa kahay maayo nato ingalan ni
Lola: Mas mayo siguro, Ben, na nganlan nato siya og “Leslie”.
Ben: Murag mayo pod na “JiN”, Ma, kay si Emay (my brother) kay J man pod.
Lola: Dili, Ben. Mas maayo jud na nganlan nato siya og “Leslie”.
Haha! So, you know what happened. =)
My Lola Puring was the ever dear Lola anyone would love. She was well–behaved, soft–spoken, and had the kindest of hearts. She was very thoughtful, too. When she found out I had the love for leather–woven shoes in college, she would send me a pair from time to time; and the letters we used to send to each other while she stayed across the globe, is another blog story.
Also, there’s still one thing I found remarkable about Lola Puring. She was very hard–working (yes, surprise! we have always been working class. No haciendas, whatsoever. Hihi.) This, I am very proud of. My Lola was not the typical grandmother who just stayed at home and raised the kids. Not that there was something wrong with that. I just figured she may not have finished a degree, but she made herself productive and busy and earning; and that is one girl empowerment to me. =)
I miss you, Lola.
Wish you were here to see my lil girls, especially the lil one who takes after you. =)
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