Woman Most Beautiful

I wrote this awhile back, hoping that it would come out in the newspapers. But alas, after 3 months, it has not happened; and so...here I am sharing it as one of my entries.

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Woman Most Beautiful

I lost a grandaunt a few weeks back. It was so sudden and unexpected that until today, reality has yet to sink in. I last saw her alive in December 2013. She was not feeling well then but as she always refused to go to a doctor or hospital, no one really took her seriously. Just two days before she died, she was talking to my aunt about the birthday card she sent; and the next thing we knew, she was gone. Her last wishes echoed her lifestyle of simplicity. It was a simple ceremony and for the first time in years, the whole family was back, in one place at the same time. She reunited us.

Her name was Corazon Tomas. My family and I used to visit her every school holiday (she lived in KL while we are from Penang). As time passed and my sister and I left school, visits to Aunty Soon (a nickname she fondly adopted after her Chinese house-help could not pronounce ‘Corazon’) became rare. Years would pass and our visits to her could be counted on one hand.

Aunty Soon was a recluse. After the untimely death of her husband and subsequent demise of her parents, she became isolated from the world. Getting her out of her room was a chore; getting her out of the house was even more difficult. We tried our best to include her in everything but in the end, she felt better being by herself. She would spend her time watching TV dramas and reading countless newspapers and magazines. At least that was what we thought she did. Despite being an O.C.D. and to an extent, a hypochondriac, there was one thing that Aunty Soon had in abundance: LOVE. Oh yes, and she was famous for her handwritten letters and cards. And her handwriting was beautiful!

She never forgot birthdays – in fact, she stuck to the “old system” of sending birthday cards, complete with hand written messages. Each card and every phone call that she made would end with an ‘I Love You’. I can’t speak for my family but I personally can admit that I think Aunty Soon was taken for granted. Come every birthday, it was a joke to ask if anyone of us had received a card from her. She never failed to do so. If there was no card from her that year, it would mean that she was sick. Even then, you would get a phone call at the very least.

The most painful part of the whole process was not about her leaving; but rather, the memories that she left behind that we did not know of. I did not cry at her funeral nor did I feel THAT sad. But I really felt the loss and almost cried when, while cleaning out her room, we stumbled upon boxes and bags of paper cuttings/articles, posters of waterfalls (we never knew she liked them), photos, letters and cards that she had kept since the 1970s and so much more. I think finding the paper cuttings/articles was the hardest part. She had a whole bunch of articles from a wide range of topics: medical, parenting, recipes, tailoring, fashion. But the one set of articles that hit me was of pictures of children holding their parents’ hands. Seeing those pictures made me understand that while being a recluse, she too needed companionship; that she probably craved the love that she did not dare ask nor seek.

Aunty Soon often thought that she was alone even though many people loved her. The sad truth is that she should not have felt that way. Though she had no children of her own, she had two “sons” in the form of my two cousins whom she brought up as her own, giving them so much of her love, attention and care. Her death affected her “sons” more than it affected the rest of us. All I can say is that, while she has left us, she continues to live on nevertheless, as she left her best with the both of them. Seeing them as the persons that they are now and will be, I’m sure Aunty Soon will be smiling.

One invaluable find among her valuables was a handwritten essay (see pic on the right) about her mother (my great-grandmother). It is short but very very sweet. It shows the extent of her love for her mother. Now I know where I inherit the writing genes from. I could not find an appropriate title for this piece and in the end, I decided that the title of Aunty Soon’s essay was the best title for this.

Dear Aunty Soon, as you now reunite with God, your husband, parents and brothers, please know that we all love you and miss you!

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Woman Most Beautiful

By Corazon Tomas

Who do you think is the most beautiful woman in the world?

This was the question asked by a friend during a lunch hour and it was immediately followed by a clamor of voices. Every girl seemed to know who, naming beauty queens, film actresses and other well-known personalities.

I knew who the most beautiful woman in the world was, but I kept silent.

Her beauty is within and without. Hers is not the kind of face that would launch a thousand ships. She is a housewife, known only to a few people. But to the ones who knew her best, her face was always an inspiration and a hope.

She was my first teacher, nurse and friend. She taught me right from wrong. Her kiss and warm embrace in times of sickness were more potent than medicine. Her smile, her understanding, her hand holding mine, made me meet problems and heartaches with strength and fortitude. She shared my experiences, vicarious or actual, and was ever so proud of my accomplishments, no matter how small. She is my most experienced adviser and most dependable ally.

And she cooks like an angel.

Yes, she is the most beautiful woman in the world – my mother. And lovely as the gift of life is, lovelier still it is to be born to a woman like my mother. I think all mothers are beautiful, but my mother is the most beautiful of all. - #