I remember when you were born, your mom completely exhausted from 48 hours of labor. She gained over 50 pounds on her normally tiny 5 foot frame, and you came out as a 6 lb. baby with this big personality. I remember your mom telling me that she knew you as soon as she met you. I didn’t understand what she meant back then, but having a child of my own I now know that there’s no bond greater than a mother and son.
I remember when you were a few days old you couldn’t keep your milk down, spat it out immediately. You were a little jaundice baby and we all went to church to pray for you to get better. We didn’t know what to do, but things turned okay. You turned out to be a cute bald baby with just a strip of hair growing on one side.
I remember your mom would rock you to sleep in the song by Bobby Caldwell, “What you won’t do for love”, which I had the privilege to play as background music on picture slideshow for your high school graduation present.
I remember you completing a United States wooden puzzle when you were barely 1.5years old. You knew exactly where each states were and we figured ‘a boy genius’.
I remember when you got baptized and I was lucky to have been chosen as your godmother. You were baptized at a church where the entire mass was in Spanish. We did not understand a word and just kept smiling throughout the entire time, just happy celebrating you.
I remember when you were around 2-3 years old and you stayed with us one summer. I took you around Stockton in your stylish Gymboree clothes. All my friends loved you, a natural with the ladies. You imitated Beavis and Butthead “breaking the law, breaking the law!” as you bopped your head and raised your arm. I remember you missing the toilet during potty training and totally made me watch Disney Sing-A-Long videos until 3am.
I remember when I moved in with you guys before you started kindergarten. I would make you watch “Grease” and “The Parent Trap” as payback time. You skipped preschool and went straight to Kindergarten. Boy genius. You didn’t cry. You were probably nervous but didn’t show it. What a brave boy you were.
I remember just acting silly with you like speaking in a British accent (which probably sounded more like an Indian accent) as I picked you up from school. We would sing every line in our conversations as we stroll to a bookstore or any destination.
As your aunt, I have a responsibility to guide you and set good examples. I remember taking you to my work after your class at Notre Dame Elementary and made you sort files. I paid you with drinks and snacks. I remember when you got into a car crash and flipped your car over. You called me and Uncle Troy and begged us to pick you up and not tell your mom. I said no as we just landed from our flight AND that we have to tell your mom because it is the right thing to do and that I was also scared of your mom.
I remember going to your 8th grade graduation and dance. Our boy is grown up.
We often had our serious talks when you were in high school and the advice I always gave you was to filter out what’s going on around you and still do what you need to do as you have a responsibility for yourself (graduate high school, go to college, etc). You wished for certain things, but I had always
told you that you cannot replicate someone or wish to be that person, but rather take the things that you admire from different people and make those things your own. So you see Aya, in my eyes you are the best of the Climaco, the Aquino, and the Nakano family and I thank you for that.
I love you.
Ate Cons (Tita Connie)