shared by Theresa Navarro, her cousin
While I think of Cindy always, I especially miss her during the holidays - she was definitely a child of Christmas, and her spirit shined brightest during this season of giving.
For most, the holidays are a time for celebration when we gather with friends and family and rejoice in our shared blessings. On the other hand, the holidays can also be a time of heartbreak, made worse in the wake of loved ones passed.
This season, the Rabuy clan will be missing two very important people. We recently laid to rest our 16 year old cousin, Zoe Lualhati, after a brave and drawn-out battle with cancer; less than four months later, our Lola Moring followed suit and was interred alongside her beloved husband, our Lolo Quicoy. What a strange and sad coincidence, to lose both our family's baby girl and matriarch in such a short time.
While we may still be reeling from these losses, at least we know that Zoe and Lola are finally at peace and reunited with our loved ones in Heaven. In fact, I'd like to think that Ate Cindy comforted them both during their final hours with her warm smile and gentle touch; she probably welcomed them at the gates and even made some nice welcome baskets with their favorite treats. This is the Cindy I remember: creative and generous and thoughtful.
The Rabuy clan is a large and loving group, and for a period of time most of my mother's twelve brothers and sisters lived within a ten mile radius of each other. During these golden years, the holidays were EPIC - with tables full of food at family parties that raged until the early hours of the morning.
Each family would take turns hosting Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's Eve - each event would boast mah jong tables in the garage for the adults, and games and toys for the kids in every other corner of the house. The highlight, of course, was Cindy's coordination of the annual gift exchange. After all, there were so many of us, we would never be able to afford presents for every single person in the family; instead, the adults instituted a Secret Santa system (called Monito) which rarely remained "Secret" but everybody always had fun playing along.
Even as a spry teenager, Cindy managed the big personalities of our aunts, uncles, even grandparents, and made sure everybody at least appeared to follow the rules to ensure a good time for all. The "Monito" process started with the adults drawing each other's names, usually at Thanksgiving dinner, then culminated in an hour long game on Christmas Eve where the Secret Santas presented their gifts. Cindy masterfully orchestrated the big reveal, one year even using her now legendary arts and crafts skills to meticulously create a Jeopardy game.
Our family is no longer a five minute drive from one another, with Rabuy representatives across the country as well as in our native Philippines; indeed, the roaring parties of my childhood have grown fewer and far between. When we lost Cindy, I remember how much I worried about the first Secret Santa without her - how would we go on without her direction, her creativity?
Although some cousins joined together to plan an exchange in years that followed, we definitely felt the void she left behind. Slowly, we settled into our new normal without our Cindy; sadly, we must prepare for our first holiday without our beloved Zoe and Lola as well.
However, the holidays can also be a powerful and healing time for our family, where we recall memories from Christmas past and give thanks for the time we have together. We also witness a whole new generation of grand and great-grandchildren, who enjoy the Secret Santa games that Cindy helped initiate.
I'm sure that Cindy is in charge of the festivities in heaven, laughing and playing games with Zoe, Lola, Lolo, Tito Eddie, and all our loved ones at the big Noche Buena in the sky.
