ang ganda ko

You know I would have shrieked when you shaved your head—ay, naman!
You know I would have loved Stella, too. Just like I loved you, like I love you,
and you know I would have threatened your boyfriend when I met him.
If you hurt her, I’ll get you! I would say, like always. But he seems nice. I bet I would like him a little bit.

I miss taking you shopping and then for coffee ice cream (with walnuts),
and bringing you purses from the Philippines—don’t you know it’s bad luck if you don’t put money in them?
I miss sharing my collection of pearls with you.
I hope you think of me when you put yours on in the morning.

I know you miss the muffled shuffle of my slippers from down the hallway.
You miss all the warm laundry I did over the holidays without a single complaint,
and the way I made your bed when you stayed the night.
Always at least one quilt to keep you warm. I’m glad you remember.

Thank you for handing me the ingredients I needed in the kitchen.
For letting me teach you how to cook, despite never being able to get it just the way I wanted.
Thank you for making my recipes for lumpia and pancit every Christmas.
I know you still make them but they don’t taste the same—keep trying. You’ll get it.

I miss our afternoon talks at the kitchen table,
and my special mug (World’s Best Nurse, it said) and the hot tea you made for it,
and I miss telling you stories about how I met your grandfather so long ago.
I didn’t like him at first.

Thank you for massaging my shoulders after I made dinner.
For holding my hand while I prayed bright futures for you and your cousins,
and for still thinking of me when you hear my favorite karaoke songs on the radio.
Killing Me Softly and Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina.

I miss meeting you at the backstage entrance after your performance,
telling any stranger who would listen that my granddaughter was onstage,
and I miss buying you roses and getting nervous when skinny boys lifted you.
I know you still think of me before you dance. I promise I am still watching.

I miss your love and I miss loving you.
I miss you,

but when you remember me, don’t remember only the good;
learn from my mistakes, because I made them for you.
I wish I had savored our time together more,
and that I could have watched you grow a little longer.
That I could have seen you be the beautiful young lady that you are.
Ang ganda ko, I am so proud of you.

I wish I could know your children,
and I hope they will know of me,
and that you have gathered enough stories to tell fondly.
I just wish I could tell them myself.