Last Thursday was my first Christmas without my mom; she passed away last June at the age of 81. Finances are tight for us this year, not only because of the unexpected hospital and funeral expenses, but also because of our temporary move to the metro Boston area, where the cost of living is three times as much as Detroit. So our Christmas list this year was much shorter than previous years, with us trying to give more meaningful gifts.



Satsumas also remind me of my sistahfriend Dr. Joan May T. Cordova, who often wears the satsuma scent. She is the President of our Filipino American National Historical Society (FANHS) and writes a FANHS blog HERE. Today is her birthday, so I kept wondering what I should send her, since she always buys pasalubong/gifts for the whole barrio. “Should we send her satsumas?” Anak asked. Nah, she has plenty of that. Then I was reminded of the appeal letter Joanie sent last week, the first one FANHS has ever issued in its 25-year history:
http://fanhsis40.blogspot.com/2008/12/support-fanhs-for-next-generation.html?m=1

When I got married, Joanie gave us a 10 Year Membership to FANHS (like she does for many others). When my mother died, Joanie was the first to ask to what organization friends should make remembrances. My mother was the longest-serving council member of the Filipino Community of Seattle, Inc, and belonged to almost every Filipino organization in the city, so it would be difficult to specify just one. Joanie never lets me forget how, when a FANHS delegation flew from Seattle to Manila for a conference, my mother sent a bag of store-bought cookies for everyone to snack on; although I was initially bothered by their weight, during our layover, we were grateful for those cookies because we didn’t have anything else to eat. As a World War II survivor, my mother was frugal, but she always made sure we had plenty of food. And although she never had a chance to earn a college degree, my mother valued education and believed in the importance of knowing and sharing our roots. She may not have understood all that I do in terms of teaching and preserving Filipino American history, but she supported it in the simple ways that she could: through stories and food.

When my mother died, I had to write the eulogy, but did not have any of my material, so I went to the FANHS National Pinoy Archives in the old, converted Immaculate School in Seattle’s Central District. The archive barely fits in two rooms: one is an old classroom and the other is in the basement. When I was a teenager on the Filipino Youth Activities (FYA) Drill Team, this same basement was where we learned Kulintang (ancient gong music), practiced Arnis/Eskrima (the Filipino martial art), and heard aswang/ghost stories. The National Office of FANHS is upstairs, in what was once, 25 years ago, the FYA Trophy Room, where we had “brown room” meetings and cultural classes. Twenty-five years before that, it was probably my cousin’s classroom. The FYA offices are gone, but FANHS remains. Now cardboard file boxes pile high to the ceiling, with sepia exhibit photos peeling the paint from the century-old walls. A snooty university archivist once asked me if the FANHS office and archives, with its thousands of valuable photos, interview tapes, and material artifacts, had “climate control”. I chuckled and said, “I think there’s a dial that controls the radiator.” Of course, that radiator is covered with papers too.

Drs. Fred & Dorothy Cordova
Joanie’s aunt, Dorothy Laigo Cordova, founded FANHS in 1982 and has served as its unsalaried, volunteer Executive Director since then. Auntie Dorothy’s husband, Uncle Fred Cordova, a retired newsman, is the FANHS archivist. When I arrived at the FANHS office (two days after my mother had passed), Auntie Dorothy shared a bowl of curry and rice she had made the night before. Downstairs, Uncle Fred had already pulled my mother’s files for me to see. They had material I didn’t even know existed: a speech my mom had written, a faded newspaper article on her parents’ arrival from the Philippines, a party invitation she had someone make. I still needed more, so I found her sister’s file, some of her organizations’ files, plus a book where part of her oral history is published.
I felt so grateful to have this sanctuary of information, where I could research and write, and still feel at home: the memory of kulintang beats and childhood ghosts dancing in my ears. Before I left the FANHS archives, I whispered a prayer, hoping that when Anak is older, she can touch, read, hear, and smell all of this too. But prayers don’t pay the rising rent (even if Uncle Fred is now an ordained Catholic Deacon)!
Remembering our pledge to give meaningful gifts, I wrote our check to FANHS and put it in the mail today, just in time to honor Joanie’s birthday, my mother’s memory, AND get our tax-deduction (since FANHS is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization). My mother would have wanted that, plus the satsumas, of course.
* * *
Please GIVE a gift of history and support FANHS for the next generation:
Click HERE to Download FANHS Donation Form.
And Mail Donations Payable To:
FANHS
810 18th Ave. Room 100
Seattle, WA 98122
UPDATE 2012: You can now donate online [in annual or monthly recurring donations] via PayPal or using a major credit card on the redesigned FANHS Website.
All donations are tax-deductible: http://fanhs-national.org/filam/donate/
* * *
Maraming Salamat!
© by Emily P. Lawsin, FANHS Trustee
December 29, 2008 in Los Angeles, CA
Click HERE for my full bio: www.emilylawsin.com
Click HERE to Read My Previous Post: POEM: FOR CORKY PASQUIL’S BIRTHDAY
Satsumas are the bomb jiggy wiggy.
Comment by Eugene — December 30, 2008 @ 3:57 pm |
Wait, you were in in L.A.? I could have gotten the group together to meet up!
Emily, I hope you have a great new years and please don’t become a Celtics fan.
Comment by porkjello — December 31, 2008 @ 11:37 am |
Hello Emily,
What a wonderful testimony to FANHS. I don’t know how I missed the news, but I did not know you had lost your mom. I’m so sorry to heard of your loss and the community’s loss. Having met you, and reading about your mom, I understand more about the strength you carry with your smile and laughter and the power behind your words. I have had the pleasure of belonging to the Hampton Roads Chapter almost from it’s first few breaths. How wonderful that Fred and Dorothy could help you honor your mother’s life with such treasures. My best to you and your family. Blessings and Love for the New Year, Sylvia
Comment by Sylvia Nery Strickland — December 31, 2008 @ 10:11 pm |
Very touching piece. thank you
Comment by Ferdinand Tomas — January 1, 2009 @ 10:29 am |
I was deeply touched by your comments. Watching you grow into the wonderful, caring, talented, sharing individual you have become has been a pleasure for me. To have you and your family part of my personal life for so many years has been a privilege. When I recall the slim and energetic girl who helped pull Fred out of Drill Team “retirement” more than 20 years ago – it makes me smile because that special team made an historic trip to D.C., Maryland and Virginia Beach. Then you became my first high school intern in the new FANHS organization and in 1987 helped me launch the first national conference in Seattle… and that was just the beginning of a wonderful FANHS relationship.
Emily, you have always been special to me. I wish the best of a better new year for your family and more literary awards for Scott.
Comment by Auntie Dorothy — January 2, 2009 @ 2:31 pm |
[…] Last June, when my mom was dying in the hospital, Uncle Charlie was in that same hospital, on another floor getting kidney dialysis. Folks told me to stay by my mom’s side, that Charlie would pull through it. A few days later, when I was at the FANHS office writing my mother’s eulogy, Uncle Fred got a call from Auntie Carmen and he sped back to the hospital right away to be by Charlie’s side, only to be sent home because Charlie was undergoing more tests and treatments. He pulled through until last Sunday. […]
Pingback by Remembering Uncle Charlie « poetry & tsismis: emily’s blog — February 11, 2009 @ 1:02 pm |
emily…many folks like me don’t even know where our checkbooks are let alone want to manually fill out another written form, then find and address an envelope, and finally make our way to the post office. here’s what I use: https://www.networkforgood.org/donation/MakeDonation.aspx?ORGID2=911295854&PcaItemId=17356 and in fact what i did was set up a small recurring donation on a monthly basis that I almost don’t even notice that adds up by the end of the year…joey
Comment by Joey Tabaco — December 30, 2009 @ 7:37 am |
Sounds great, Joey. MARAMING SALAMAT! 🙂
Comment by Emily Lawsin — December 30, 2009 @ 2:19 pm |
[…] because PARRAL, with its haphazard overflowing stacks of ephemera, looked eerily similar to the FANHS National Pinoy Archives, where I had volunteered as an undergraduate […]
Pingback by Remembering Auntie Helen Brown, 1915-2011 « poetry & tsismis: emily's blog — March 20, 2011 @ 4:29 pm |
I have a documentary on the American War of Annexation of the Philippines, and am anxious to contact interested parties in the Filipino community.
Comment by Peter Davis — June 23, 2012 @ 1:12 pm |