"A Tale of Two Sisters"

"A Tale of Two Sisters"

Yesterday I attended the funeral of one of my heroines: Rosario Celio Oades, more fondly known to me as Tita Charito. She had been battling illness for over two years; for most of those two years I saw her every day, living in her house.

Since May 1998, cancer has inflicted scars upon my family and me. They are not physical ones. My grandmother, Aurora Celio Evora (Momie), was diagnosed with cancer for the fourth time that spring, right after Mother's Day. Although I wanted to believe that she would beat it "one more time," something told me then that this was the beginning of the end for her. Although there are a million things I wish I could have said, done or shown her, I no longer dwell on these nonexistent moments. It hurts too much; the scars are reopened and they hurt with more intensity each time. Not long after her death, Tita was also diagnosed with cancer.

I used to call Momie and Tita my "Golden Girls." For a time in college, I had no job but "chauffeur to the Golden Girls." I drove them to church and to go shopping. I loved to spend time with them. It occurred to me that I was very fortunate to have two women who were so strong and so loving in my life, two women who had seen the world and had conquered it. When they died and were lowered in the ground, I know they held no regrets in their hearts because this world had been cruel to them at times, but they had privately triumphed.

So when I feel the emptiness in my heart from the loss of two extraordinary women -- two women who helped in a substantial manner to make the woman I am today -- I remember all the things they taught me, from lessons of the heart to practical everyday matters.

The first thing I remember is their love for God. I don't mean to sound religiously fanatical; however, I will say that my belief in God and in heaven come almost directly from these two women. Until they could no longer walk, Tita and Momie went to church twice a week. Even when they were sick or tired, they went to church and prayed. Their faith was so strong that it spilled over and touched my heart, many times, even when I felt lost or weak. Their faith strengthened mine, even when it seemed no one else was on my side -- their presence and their prayers reminded me that they, and God, were there for me no matter what. They did not blame God for their illnesses or any other unfortunate circumstances in their lives; rather, I believe that they realized that their journeys on Earth were done and they were ready for a new journey.

My grandmother taught me kindness and love for others, even strangers. She would make friends with the custodians and with the presidents of companies. To her, each person was special. She embraced each person with a smile and her heart. Even if she didn't approve of people, she still treated them with respect and love. I have learned an infinity of wisdom in the twenty-two years she shared with me.

Tita Charito taught me the power of generosity. When I had no money and no place to live, she gave me a bed and helped me to buy a car. She asked for nothing in return but a ride to church twice a week. And it wasn't just the big things. When she was still living with us in San Francisco, she would bring home half of her sandwich from her lunch for me. I was happy to share most of Tita's last two years if only so that I learned from her the meaning of "endurance." She truly endured until the end and I will always remember that and hope to emulate it.

What I will remember most of all about these two women is how they loved each other, and how that love was manifested in their families. Because each of them was a single mother they did not necessarily provide riches and wealth to their children and grandchildren. However, they rejoiced in the simple things. They took pleasure in seeing us every day or every week or every month, to spend time with us, to do the things that made us happy, because that made them happy. Every time I look at my dog, Chewy, I will think of Tita and how she wanted to name him after "Harrison Ford's dog" (Chewbacca in "Star Wars"). Every time I see a florist shop I think of all the times I woke up on my birthday or another special event and find a dozen beautiful roses from Momie. When I see my cousins I remember how much my grandmother and great-aunt loved us; loved us so much that no matter how young we were when they passed, we will remember that love for the rest of our lives.

Today the two sisters lay side by side, finally at peace and finally at rest. I am happy because I will remember them as the beautiful, vivrant women they were when I was a child. I will carry the memories they have shared with me, and the memories they have shared with the people around me, as a testament to the person they have molded me to be.

Our lives are forever made brighter by the people who make us happy, even if only the memories remain. -KMP

Aurora Celio Evora, April 22, 1930 to January 13, 1999
Rosario Celio Oades, December 13, 1932 to December 9, 2001