“Ang mga Ledesma, ma-isog,” my grandmother matter-of-factly says to her cousin who was visiting her at the hospital. She was referring to people in her family and how they are characteristically quarrelsome, too proud, and tampuhin. She also adds that they are madumot or are prone to hold grudges. Well, I guess I know what side of the family I get that from. Mama and her cousin were talking about how their aunts, as sisters, often fought then made-up later, sometimes years later, only to do it all over again.

In a way, I’m in the middle of this cold war with my own sister as well. We’re not exactly talking, mostly by my choice. I do know I just need to accept her the way she is. But most of the time, I just wish I had a sister I actually liked. Unfortunately, I am stuck with her whether I like it or not. Eventually something’s gotta give and I know I’ll have to keep my own pride in check. Nevertheless, Mama taught me a few lessons on acceptance today.

My grandmother is the eldest of ten children and her father was rumored to be popular with the ladies. I asked her if she ever confronted him about this or if she ever got angry. But she told me she just shrugged the whole thing off. She even thought it was funny at times. I knew she would never have tolerated the same behavior from her own husbands. But perhaps because she was one of her father’s favorites, she pretty much over-looked his flaws and accepted them as his “quirks.” One of the funniest incidents she recalled was when her father (who was probably well into his 60’s, with several grandchildren, by this time) saw a pretty young girl wearing a mini skirt get on a jeepney and followed suit. The young lady got off some time later in front of a university and my great-grandfather finally realized he was a long way from home, and that he had forgotten his car!

Mama also told me about how my Dad would come to accept his stepfather. She never asked my Dad, who was probably around 11 years old, for “permission” to get married again. She never even sat him down and discussed her plans with him. She simply told him that she was getting married and that she would be away for a few weeks. But she also told him that she and Papa would come back for him and they would move into a new house. When they got back from their honeymoon, my Dad was already packed and grinning ear-to-ear. I thought the way she handled that whole event contrasted drastically with how I would have handled a similar situation. I imagine I would talk to my children and get them involved in the whole decision of getting married again. What I hadn’t realized initially was that my Dad did not need to voice his vote because his actions weighed more than words. Before Mama and Papa got married, Papa had already spent time with my Dad, taking him on his speedboat countless times. If you knew anything about my Dad, you’d know about how much he loved boating and the sea. Papa found a way into my Dad’s heart and, as a result, into my Mama’s as well.

I listened to my grandmother talk to her sister’s husband on the phone this evening. He’s also very sick right now. Crying, she told him about how much she was thinking of him and praying for him. She also told him about a dream she had of him the night before. Coincidentally, he also dreamed of her. I guess they were manifesting how much concern they had for each other. They are very close. When my biological grandfather was still alive and ran his family’s hacienda in Negros, they spent a lot of time with this particular sister and her husband. My Dad looked to him like a father, especially after his own dad died in a plane crash when he was only five. Mama told him, “we all love you, Nong.” It was very sweet and I nearly cried.

I thought about my own relationship with my sister’s boyfriend/ “baby daddy” and how it was barely existent at worst, strained at least. I am very far from telling him I care for him. But I do think I’m on the way to accepting him as a part of my life.

But it’s a very bitter pill to swallow.

Next: Day Five