Lina
By Angela Arlia

A portrait of one woman’s enduring influence

y aunt told me to surround myself with women I could talk to and trust. They would be my anchors in life. She insisted that I be a good listener because the world was full of talkers—empty talkers who speak mainly to listen to themselves speak. She taught me to cook, to yell at the television during the stupid shows, retarded political comments, and most importantly, during soccer matches.

She laughed and did it often, even during the most difficult times, and she reminded me to do the same. There was always something, even a very small something, that could bring a smile to my face, she said. She told me to be respectful and that respect was a two-way street. If you don’t like someone, you can’t respect them.

“Don’t be nice to people if you don’t like them because you always and only have to live with yourself. If you can’t like them for at least one thing, if they don’t have one redeeming quality that you can focus on, avoid them.”

She was the matriarch of my mom’s family. Yes, she made mistakes. She had a good heart and hoped her family had inherited that same goodness. But they didn’t all. Brother fought against brother and the family fell apart.

I still hear her laughter and I witness her chuckle in my mind’s eye. Every now and then I watch television and make a comment she would make:

“Well, that wasn’t so smart!”
“Why did you trust that good-for-nothing?”
“That referee is getting paid to make crummy calls!”
“Did the team have coffee today?”

She taught me to be a good sister to my sister.  Sisterhood, in her view, is a bond that no one else can completely understand or break but once broken, can never be fixed. She was such a good sister that she practically raised all of her sister’s children and her own. Not to mention that she became a mom to all of the offspring of those children too.

My aunt passed away from cancer over 15 years ago.  Even so, she still talks to me in her straightforward and well-meaning way. It’s hard for someone who influenced you so much to truly disappear from your life.