Tia Maria

 My earliest memory of my Aunt Maria is living in her house as a small child. I lived in one of the apartments upstairs. Our apartment was at the top of a long, spiral, black staircase right outside the foyer. The house had a grand entrance. 

She would watch me during the day, while my parents were at work. 

I remember running through her house and exploring her bottles of perfume on her dresser, in her bedroom. They were the old style perfume bottles with the ball on the end that you would squeeze, so classy, maybe that's why I love old movies so much. Watching the heroine spritzing herself with those beautiful bottles of sweet smelling fragrances. The pocket doors that I would open and close, over and over. I loved to see how the door would just disappear into the wall, didn't realize that doors used to do that. The dining room table and chairs that looked enormous to me, almost like I was Alice in my own wonderland. She had such pretty things, and her house was always immaculate, and I don't remember ever being told by her to be careful, or to not touch something. I felt comfortable, as if I was in my own space, where I belonged. 

She had a huge kitchen, where you could always find something to snack on, on the kitchen table. That's where I would always find her, either in the kitchen preparing food for later on in the day or in her sewing room. I felt like her house was always the one place where everyone would converge. She had such an openness about her, a sweetness, everyone felt welcome. I don't remember ever seeing her without a smile on her face, always positive, always laughing. There was always someone there visiting, eating, or just spending time listening to the Portuguese news on my Uncle's radio, at the kitchen table, cracking walnuts.  In the living room, there was a porcelain pot that contained the most yummiest squares of caramel candies ever made, I would always grab one as I raced by. It doesn't matter where I am, I will always try a caramel and expect to be transported back to that special time and to that special caramel square but I have never found it. 

Loved to spend time in their backyard/driveway. Running through the grass, and the bbqs on the weekends during the summer. I made my first friend there.

I still love that house. I wish it was still a place where I could visit, but then I realize that the house, now modified by someone else, wouldn't even look like the same place that lives in the recesses of my younger mind. It would be sad to see it now. 

I still can't fathom how this happened but when I was about six, I was at school, and school was not too far from my Aunt's house, three long blocks away. I left school, just walked out the door, and walked by myself to my Aunt's house in the middle of the school day. I still recall little tidbits of everything I saw and experienced on my way, including the lion that was right inside a storefront, that growled at me, when I walked by, his handlers laughing at me. Did this even happen or was it my imagination, no clue? How bold I was at that age, no fear. Even though it was the 70s, reflecting back, anything could've happened to me that day, come to think of it, it was the 70s, so that lion could've been real. Someone must've been looking after me from above, I'd like to think it was my grandfather that had just passed away. From what I've been told by my parents, my Dad had gone back for a few weeks to attend my grandfather's funeral at the time and I wasn't a fan of my Daddy being gone for so long. The way I see it, my Aunt's home was a comfort for me, and I was just drawn towards it, and to her. How did I even know how to get there, I was six? 

After we moved and purchased a house of our own, they would spend a lot of time at our house. For years while I was growing up, they were fixtures in my life. We would all sit in the backyard or at the kitchen table, and talk for hours. I loved to listen to her tell stories. You know those people who are trying to tell you a funny story and they are laughing while telling it, that was her. I hope that my Dad and his oldest sister are still at it, sitting at the kitchen table, or in a celestial garden somewhere still reminiscing and telling stories. I hope that they are having a great big laugh at someone else's expense, in a humble way of course. They laughed at themselves the most, mostly at something my uncle did lol. 

As Time Passes On

My cousins and I are approaching a time in our lives where we are starting to experience the loss of our parents. One of my cousins and I came to that realization when we were both grieving the loss of our fathers, within a few months of each other. Recently, we lost my Dad's oldest living sister, well into her 90s. There are only four siblings left. 

My brother being the youngest of the bunch is going to be 46 in a few months, and the oldest of the bunch is in his 70s, the rest of us are sprinkled about within years of each other. I can't believe it really, I still see us as the teenagers and young adults that we once were, but realistically speaking, our children are now at that stage. Where did the time go? We weren't paying attention, it happened while we weren't looking.  

My grandparents were older and their children's ages spanned many years, having 14 children will do that. My Dad's oldest sibling was 20 years older than him. My grandparents passed away years ago, and now their children are passing on and leaving us. The circle of life I guess, still very sad to think about and acknowledge that it's happening. 

Christmases Past

During the holidays, don't we always reminisce about old times, old traditions, Christmases past? My kids always bring up traditions that we had when they were younger, and traditions that we still keep. That's what Christmas is all about, family and the traditions that we keep together. That's probably what has been the hardest part of living through this pandemic and quarantine, besides the loved ones that many of us have lost. Growing up, our Christmas tradition was always going to Midnight Mass, kind of bumbed that they don't really hold that late mass anymore, and then we'd come home and open up gifts. I think that was probably the only thing that kept us awake during mass, the anticipation of getting home and opening up Christmas gifts. Also a huge incentive to behave during mass as well. lol. 

Over the holidays, my Mom started reminiscing of old times, (she's been doing this more and more since my Dad passed away), and what Christmases were like for our family when they were all young, newly married, and just starting their lives together. 

My father, some of his brothers, and brothers in law, all worked for General Motors, the car company, and during that time, the plant would close for the holidays, if you can believe that.  She said, that the plant would close for a week during the holiday season, and it had become tradition to stop everything and plan Christmas together. My Aunt, Maria, the matriarch of the family, had the biggest home when compared to everyone else, and could accommodate our growing family much easier. So, everyone always spent Christmas at her house. They would pool together the money they needed and they would buy a roast pig, a leitao, with all the fixings and just spend all week together, eating, drinking (my uncle Jack made the wine in his cellar), celebrating, laughing, and playing cards. Also reminiscing, I'm sure, of times past, how far they had all come and how grateful they were, just to be together.  

Large families always include a support system like no other. When I look back now and remember what I can about what it was like to grow up in a large family, I remember that support system. It wasn't always apparent but it was there, it was felt. 

I often think about the lives that they all led and how difficult it must've been to move to a foreign country, start a new life, start a family, and just survive. But, at the same time, I know how lucky and fortunate they all were that they were able to immigrate together and settle within blocks of each other. They had each other, and I'm sure, because of that fact, the rough times weren't always so bad. They had each other to lean on during the great times, and also during the not so great.