Mom wanted an American-made fruitcake for Christmas. She got it. I sent two bars which i think were much less flavorful compared to her own home-made fruitcake. She wrote me an e-mail: "Thanks for the fruitcake. I really enjoyed it. The first bar I cut into quarters and gave it to your siblings. The other I keep for myself."
Mom's such a nut when it comes to anything imported (which I understand). We aspire for things we cant usually have. Anything from the West is better. A notion we learned from childhood. I e-mailed her back:
"That's the best fruitcake i can get from here. And it's not even yummy close to the ones you made for every Christmas when I was there".
I was being truthful. Hers is the best for me. And her home-made ham as well.
"I wasnt able to make Ham this Christmas. I was too busy. Your dad bought a Fiesta Honey-baked Ham for our Noche Buena instead. He was looking for some imported cheeses to go with it but they were all expensive".
I thought of the 5 different kinds of European Cheese rotting in our fridge. Mama O is the only one who gobbles them. But she's not here. She's in the Philippines. (The Sunset Scavengers will be collecting these cheeses in a few more days). Mama O was my fruitcake bearer from here to Mom. Mom asked:
"___ is here. Will you be celebrating Christmas alone?"
I replied:
"Yeah. My other room-mate (Jezebel) is in Nashville with his cousin and _____ (Ekra) will be with his Mom and Bro in L.A. I will be working anyways, so there will be no celebration at all"
She replied:
"I am worried about you. You should have a wife and a family by now. You're getting old and getting old alone is difficult. Look at your Tita Marina, she longs for all your attention, her nephews and nieces' attention. But you guys still have us, your parents. She will always be second to her siblings. You dont wanna be like her, do you? You should marry. All I wish is for you to be happy".
Until now, I have no reply. I have nothing to say. I wonder, where is my fucking fruitcake?
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