Its now the 4th day of mourning of Nanay Mila - my cherished neighbor. When I was 5 yrs. old, and was playing in my moms backyard squeezing a plants fruit. Sadly, it was Chili. Chili juice went into my eyes, and I cried at the top of my voice in pain. Mom washed it with water but it did not help. Nanay Mila came to wash my eyes with her breast-milk. Just a year ago, I read an article that a breast-milk component is a Chili antidote. Also, during those years, every late afternoon, she would tell us (I, her kids, and my sisters) bedtime stories- a thing my mother never did as mom was always busy making a living to send us to good school. Actually, when I was a pre-teen to teen, I missed those times she was in front of us, just like a teacher, telling us stories. She is also the godmother of my sister Lea Solomon. I remember that, although in poverty, no Christmas had passed without my sister receiving a gift or money from her. So, when I learnt that she was sick, as a way of saying thank you, I brought her Diabetisol ( a milk formula for diabetics), bought her new pillow, and brought her food from time to time. Told her kids to bring her to the hospital (even offered my car), and told them I can help in the expenses but they seem not interested ( not, until the last hours of her life ). Had prayed and hoped that she would recover from her sickness as I believe if my parents would always see their contemporaries, they would think life is still long. But poverty cannot really help lengthen life. No matter how many kids you have; they can be no help if they themselves are also in poverty. Thank you for your breast-milk; I could have been one eye blind without it. Thank you for your bedtime stories; although I cannot recall those (but, the lizard, I cannot forget); I will forever cherish the moments. Rest in peace Nanay Mila. There will be no poverty in Heaven I am sure.
Posted on: Wed, 03 Dec 2014 05:31:28 +0000
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