I am grateful for being able to open the door and walk out into our backyard at any time of the day and night. I am grateful for being able to pluck a persimmon off our tree, wipe it on my sweater, and munch on it as I wander around the backyard looking for forgotten things that put together will become something else.  I am grateful for the Husband being the main dishwasher and coffee maker. I am grateful that we are able to afford the utility bill so we can turn on the heater during the chilly season. I am grateful that Daddy took the risk to sign a work contract with the Hawaiian sugar plantations and then decided to stay in Hawaii for a bit more (about 18 years) after his contract was over. I am grateful that Daddy chose to become a U.S. citizen when the government offered it to him and many other Filipinos who were serving in the U.S. military during WWII. I am grateful that Mama said “yes” to Daddy’s proposal of marriage and said “yes” to moving to the United States wh

Petite. Resilient, strong, assured. Loving, generous, kind. Beautiful. Heart-felt chuckles and smiles. Lilac and grey plaids. Soft, colorful scarves.   Biko , a sweet rice dessert baked in lots of brown sugar and fresh coconut milk. That’s how I remember my godmother Magdalena Hafalia Sagun. Ninang Deling is what I called her.   Ninang means godmother in Ilocano. I had several godmothers growing up. I’ve always thought of Ninang Deling as number one godmother. She was part of my life for 36 years, from the moment I was lifted out of Mama’s womb. (I was a Caesarean birth, thank goodness for both Mama and me, a story for another day.) Ninang Deling  taught me to count in Ilocano. Four year old me recited, happily bouncing on the couch beside her, maysa, dua, tallo, uppat, lima, innem, pito, walo, siam, sangapulo . One to ten. After which, she’d point to the parts of her body, eye, ear,  mouth, arm, and so on as I identified them in Ilocano. Bounce, bounce, bounce. Magdelena Hafalia was