Happy birthday, Manong Jimmy

You could say I have a pretty big "Filipino" tribe. I would say there are about 20 first-degree cousins on my maternal side. Growing up, there was always someone to play or chat with. I remember R. and I used to melt cheese and eat it off a plate. Then, eat it for fun. The girls and I also used to play this board game where you could fantasize about your dream wedding. We also sang Christmas carols and songs in Cebuano in front of our aunties and uncles at the parties. In return, they would give us nickels and dimes.

The age range is pretty broad, with the "youngest" cousin now reaching the tender age of 23. James was one of my older cousins, so we grew up calling him "Manong." That's the Filipino honorific term to show respect to an older male family member.

My older cousin, James, would have turned 50 today. He passed away last summer, leaving behind two beautiful kids, his mum, his sister, his brother-in-law and many loved ones. He had been enjoying a day at the beach with his family when his heart just stopped working while he was out on the water. He was left unnamed in the headlines, which were splashed all over the news.

I remember at one of my birthday parties in Toronto, I had a festive lechon to mark the occasion. I think I was turning five years old. Manong Jimmy, being the comedian, pretended to rest his sunglasses on top of the roasted pig lying on the dining table. He also took one of my prized stuffed toys - "Piggy Joe," a peach-toned pig puppet with a light-blue bandana around his neck. Manong Jimmy pretended to let Piggy Joe steer the wheel of his car. At the time, I thought this was the funniest thing ever. He was always good for providing a laugh.

As the years passed, Manong Jimmy had his own family. And boy, did he love those kiddos! I've looked at sweet pictures of him just resting on the couch with his babies. To think, they're now in grade school. The older one is even in junior high school now, sporting some bling in his ear. (I have since dubbed him "Blingy Bling." He doesn't mind. I must be his nerdiest auntie ever.)

Despite the age difference, he always made a point to have a quick chat. When I moved back from Japan last year, he asked me about my time working and living abroad. He even asked me to think of a kanji character that would work as a meaningful tattoo, because he was a fan of getting inked. I declined to make a recommendation, because my Japanese is pretty basic. The only kanji I could tell him would be basic stuff like the days of the week! I did not want to tell him something I assumed meant "strength," but in fact it would read something ridiculous like "catfish."

At his service this past summer, a string of people had some memories to share with everyone. I think my favourite story was shared by his sister, my Manang Joy. She reminisced about living in Bali during their formative years. As usual, Manong Jimmy had shown some naughty behaviour and was punished by his parents. That time, his bicycle strapped to the ceiling in the bathroom so that he couldn't use it. But lo and behold, he disappeared for a bit that day. They checked the bathroom and looked up. The bike had vanished. Manong Jimmy was able to go out gallivanting.

The extended family congregated at my uncle's house in Mississauga after the funeral. It was nice to just decompress and hang out with the people who know you best - your family. I know that I'm not perfect, and I've definitely stepped on some of my relatives' toes in recent times. And yes, we've all had our family dramas. But when it comes down to it, we really need to man up and relish any moments we do have together. You never know how time flies by.

Happy birthday, Manong Jimmy. Greatly missed, never forgotten.