A patchwork quilt is a beautiful blanket sewn together in wonderful patterns using different patches of fabric, some plain, others printed, each piece with a personality of its own. Usually patchwork quilts are worked in squares. You sew little scraps of fabric together to make a patterned square. Then you sew the squares together to make the blanket. Each square proudly wears its own personality and you must always respect it. My family is a patchwork quilt.
The first square is me. I began this Christmas season on Dec. 23 with breakfast with a group of friends. Then I came home, finished off leftovers in my refrigerator, delivered some last-minute gifts, packed my clothes and went to spend two nights at my daughter’s house. It was Christmas Eve’s eve but I wanted my driver to have Christmas Eve off.
I have two daughters who live abroad. They and their children have their squares. The next square is my daughter who is here. From her sprouts two more squares her two sons. That evening we had an early dinner. We were joined by my daughter’s boyfriend, who is also her best friend, and his daughter by his first major relationship. He made up another square to which were connected three more squares, one for each of his children. My daughter and her boyfriend do not live together but they are close-enough neighbors. We sit convivially sharing food and laughter.
After dinner, I took a short nap and was awakened by my grandsons playing the violin. It reminded me of long ago, when I would be having siesta at my in-laws’ home on a rainy afternoon and my father-in-law would play the violin and wake me up with his beautiful Mozart. Look, Tatay, I find myself thinking, your great-grandsons take after you.
Before going to bed we sang around the Advent Wreath, a wreath with four candles. You light one each week of advent. When I was a student we sang Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel. . . but that was a Catholic ceremony. This is a Waldorf or Steiner ceremony sang to a different song but it is beautiful and poetic nonetheless. I couldn’t sleep that night just because I was not in my own bed.
The next morning we had breakfast cooked by my daughter. The maids were off for Christmas weekend. A friend drops in. He makes up the next square from which other squares spurt because they also have children. He is the husband of my daughter’s boyfriend’s previous wife, who is also somewhat related to me. He is also one of the good friends of a previous stepdaughter (another square) of mine. He walks in with his three-year-old son who smiles and says, “Merry Christmas to all!” He is also the neighbor of my daughter’s previous husband (another square) in a neighborhood not too far from where we were.
At around 6:30 p.m. we made it to the home of my daughter’s father (another square) and his wife (another square), who is a good friend of mine. Our friendship became closer lately because we share a jewelry professor, who always calls her by my name. She invited me to join them for dinner at Christmas Eve, an invitation I gladly accepted because it meant spending Christmas together easier. We had a wonderful repast. There was a caviar pie and a delicious roast turkey.
My previous husband’s sister was there and we were delighted to see each other. I have a special talent for losing husbands but keeping my relations with their relations intact. This sister told me another sister was coming into town. Tell her to stay with me, I said. I have a guest room and I live two blocks from Greenbelt. She will enjoy herself.
At the dinner table we had A Partridge in a Pear Tree glasses. The ritual was after dinner all the guests had to sing the song. You sang words from the water glass in front of you. The daughter of my daughter’s boyfriend got the first glass. She is a shy, adorable person who had to get the song rolling. My ex-sister-in-law got the Four Calling Birds, my daughter the Five Golden Rings. I got the Eight Maids A-Milking. My daughter’s father said next year you have to bring over the text on your glass. I said, I can’t see myself bringing eight maids a-milking, making a gesture of big boobs. We all laughed.
There was a square missing. His daughter with his second wife. I remembered when we were in the States I hosted her birthday party. I think she was turning 10 then. She had just had a new baby the week before. But her son was there representing her. Another square.
We went home exhausted. Because I hadn’t slept well the night before, I am certain I snored on Christmas Eve. At 5 a.m. my 10-year-old grandson Andres woke me up. I went down to the candle-lit Christmas tree, not quite seeing where I was stepping. I had forgotten my glasses upstairs and everything was just candlelit. We sang Hark the Herald Angels Sing and then opened gifts. The sun rose. I could finally see again. It was Christmas morning.
My two grandsons were sent for by their father. They would be off to some island until after New Year. My daughter, her boyfriend, his three children and I went to Alabang. There we were dropped off first at my son’s house, then the boyfriend had to bring his children to his sister’s house, then come back and lunch with us. My son, the hobby chef, had cooked a delicious steak meal for us. He made up another square. His wife still another and his daughter yet another. His in-laws were there, too. They made another square.
It was in this house that we parted at around 4 p.m. My son’s family brought me home because his daughter, also into making jewelry, needed parts for her craft and I have them at home. I was beginning to feel totally exhausted and I think my daughter-in-law noticed. They left me alone to rest and I was grateful. I went to bed early, dead to the world.
It was a wonderful Christmas for me. It made me feel the wholeness of my life even if it is a patchwork quilt so many people sewn together by love, caring, forgiveness and friendship. Yes, I we finally, have a beautiful patchwork quilt!
* * *
Please text your comments to 0917-8155570.