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Liang Rose

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THAT'S her local as well as her on-line nickname.  Liang-Rose.  She liked that nickname.  Liang-Rose, my wife.  Whenever she would send me an e-mail from California, it's Lian-Rose.  Her real name was Rosalia Tenorio Sablan. And even on Facebook, she would write to me, or to her friends, about her likes and dislikes.  It was still Liang-Rose.  She would write about her views on life as she experienced it.  She would write about our kids and the “grands” and how she loved them.  They were the joy and happiness in her life.  She would write to them and would ask them “how are they doing.”  Her visiting them is like visiting “Camelot.”  It was a joy seeing them. 

Well, all our six kids are, now, all grown up and working in the mainland.  And our grand children? A few are still growing up. 

For Liang-Rose and me, our family is a legacy of sorts.  Liang-Rose, to me, was radiant.  Angelic.  But she could be a clown, she could be amazing, she could be real fun, in an instance, with the kids and “grands,” She loved our six kids and our nine “grands.”  Our legacy, she would say. 

A few days ago, this September, the angels came and took her away unexpectedly.  She didn't want to go, the angels insisted, and her heart rested.  Liang-Rose passed away.  She was always young at heart.  My waiting heart broke when my nephew called me on the phone and told me “Grandma just passed away.”  My tears flowed shamelessly.  She didn't make it back to our home.  Liang-Rose, I miss you. 

I looked at her many smiling pictures and I whispered, “thank you,” in appreciation of her sharing her love with me.  So, now, I reminisce. It's not early to reminisce.  Nor is it bad.  Not when it's for your love, your delight, your happiness, and your joy.  For your loving lady who spent her life with you.  Liang-Rose, to me you were wonderful.  I reviewed the panorama  of our wonderful life, about the way things went with us, up to your passing away.  Wonderful memories of you.

I always leave the door to your room opened, hoping I would see you.  I know you'd not be there.  You're already with the angels who took you away from me.  So now, in the early evening hours, I will go out into the night and when the clouds move away and open up the sky, I look up to search, among the many constellations,  the brightest of stars.  It's you I'm looking for, and I know you'd be smiling down on me from beyond the pathway of the moon.  And my crying eyes will shed warm tears in loneliness. 

You left me suddenly.  You didn't even allow me to hold your hands as you drifted away.  So now, only memories of you.  With my eyes full of tears, I whisper your name, every now and then, but you don't answer.  Where are you, Liang-Rose?  The place where we lived, and played, and nurtured our love, our house, you're not there.  Liang-Rose, I love you.

 

RUDY MANGARERO SABLAN

Garapan, Saipan

 

 

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