Sept. 29, 2007

the art of aunts

believe it or not, this lady is over 40.
happy birthday auntie!

we have this gilmore girls-thing going for us, auntie and i. apart by only eighteen years, she and i were the perfect partners in crime. she was my mother’s youngest sister. as a child, i had slept more often in her bedroom than in my parents’ bedroom, for reasons i can’t exactly pinpoint several years hence. i even remember the face cream she used was san-ing.

she’s a rabid sharon cuneta fan: i remember distinctly the TSCS sundays that preceded Million Dollar Movies and early monday school days. she was my constant tv date, much to my mother’s disapproval. it was like she was the eldest daughter and i only came second. on weekends, we ran a contest as to who would wake up later. she’d always win.

of course, things changed when my mother died. two years after her death, my father married this same fantastic woman, who willingly slipped into the shoes my mother left.

in effect, she saw me through the most important years of my life — high school and college. she was the mother i had during my graduation, during my college examinations. she was the one who stuck by me during my first ever registration in UP. she buys me my clothes (still does, actually), advises me re: weight loss and hair cuts, and of course, she was the one who first found out about the cigarettes and yeah, the girl.

so really, i wouldn’t know what i’d do without auntie - who pays the bills whenever i can’t, who has the answers whenever i don’t. we may not be together all the time, but just knowing she’s just around the corner never fails to give me the necessary boost.

(and besides, doesn’t it show that most of what constitutes my current state of humor is because of this woman? i mean. look. at. that. picture. ahahhaa.)