to be grown is to be growing

words by Cayla Celis, art by Seble Alemu

1. To Hope

Despite years of having arthritis, Maribeth’s chopping skills had only improved with age — which amazed her due to her struggling to fit a thread into the eye of a sewing needle nowadays . 

It did help that she had always liked cooking and had to practice it daily to feed both herself and Amara, a work friend that she met on their first day at twenty and her now roommate at sixty, ever since Maribeth’s husband died. 

For the most part, Amara was an easygoing roommate so long as Maribeth cooked most of the meals served in the house, and Maribeth happily obliged.

Today’s lunch was Filipino beef empanadas. Maribeth had just chopped up the vegetables—onions, carrots, potatoes—needed for the filling and was about to store the leftovers in the fridge when she abruptly shut the fridge door in realization. They had a third guest staying over—Maribeth’s granddaughter Amelia, who was currently watching videos on her phone in her room. While the current amount of filling would be fine for two elderly women, it certainly would not be enough for someone undergoing several growth spurts a year. Maribeth cursed herself—her daughter would definitely consider putting her in a nursing home if she knew Maribeth hadforgotten—and quickly started chopping again, doubling the portions. It was then that Amara came into the kitchen, her tanned skin sweaty from the sun.

“How’s it going?”

Maribeth sighed. “It’s fine, I just forgot I had to cook for our guest as well. You’re not going to tell Emma, are you?”

“No, but I can do it in red if you want me to.”

Maribeth chuckled. Amara, filled with the same spunk from when they first met, was quoting one of her favorite Teleseryes, Maamong Tupa, where the main character finally stood up for herself after her diabolical mom stole her daughter’s boyfriend.

“How are your lilies doing,” Maribeth asked.

Amara frowned. “They’re still not blooming. Perhaps Fil gave me bad seeds.” Amara always had a fondness for calla lilies, and when her son gave her own seeds to grow two weeks ago, she put her green thumbs to work. But no matter how hard Amara worked, they refused to grow, almost as stubborn as Amara herself. 

“Perhaps they just need time, Amara.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look, Maribeth, I’ve known you for a very, very long time, and I know when you’re not happy, especially when your unhappiness involves someone else. Amelia is different from Emma. Just give her time and space and eventually you two will become close.

Maribeth smiled, her lips decorated with unease. “I guess so.” Then she switched the subject. “Want to help cook the beef? You can add as much spice as you want.”

Amara smiled impishly. “That would be just divine.” 

Without words, the two worked together like clockwork to make the beef and vegetable filling, folding it into pockets of dough before putting the empanadas into the oven. When they closed the oven door, Amara looked at the clock and beamed. 

“Just in time for a new episode,” she joked. Maribeth glanced at the clock, and to her surprise, it was time. They settled themselves in front of the TV, with Amara on her phone scrolling through  gardening forums and Maribeth watching every second playing out on the screen. They were five minutes in when they heard heavy footsteps. “Grandma!”

Maribeth sighed. “Amelia, you can call me Lola Maribeth.”

“Fine. Lola Maribeth, what’s that you’re watching? Can I watch too?”

“Oh, Maamong Tupa.” 

“Mah-mong? What?”

“Maamong Tupa. It means sheep in Tagalog. It’s our favorite show, but I’m afraid it might be a little inappropriate for you,” Maribeth paused, “Not that I’m not excited that you’re interested in watching with me, but why the sudden interest?”

“Because I want to spend time with you.” Maribeth raised an eyebrow at Amelia’s response, and Amelia sighed. “Ok, fine. My phone died, and I have nothing to do.”

Maribeth chuckled. “Alright, but just for a bit. Your mother wouldn’t like to hear that you’ve watching adult stuff.” 

Amara giggled. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret,” she said with a sly smile.

As soon as Amelia sat down, the oven timer dinged. Maribeth stood up. “The empanadas! Good thing it’s on commercial now!” Amelia and Amara followed her to the kitchen, watching her remove a tray filled with golden brown empanadas.

“Are those…empanadas, Grandma?”

“Yes they are,” said Maribeth, “Empanadas are so popular in the Philippines that we made it our own. Now, usually I let this cool off before serving, but maybe you two can have a small sample. Be careful, it’s very hot.” 

Amelia took the empanada on one end and blew on it furiously. Then she took a big bite. Her eyes shimmered as she chewed. “Wow this is so good! It has spice too! Usually the Filipino dishes Mom makes aren’t that spicy. ” 

Maribeth groaned. “Guess that means I’ll be burning my tongue off,” Maribeth said, much to the amusement of Amelia and Amara.

They took the tray to the living room and settled in front of the TV, just as the commercial break was ending. The scene started with a woman dressed in red approaching another woman similar in age, decked in blue.

“She’s pretty,” Amelia said, entranced, “Is she the main character?”

“Yes,” said Maribeth. “And right now, she’s about to tell off one of her enemies.”

“Like a bully?”

“Exactly.”

Suddenly the woman in blue slapped the woman in red. All of them gasped. 

“Now, Amelia, remember to not do that in school.”

“Even if they deserve it?” 

“Yes, even if they deserve it.”

They kept watching, on the edge of their seats, until the episode ended. When the credits rolled, Amelia sighed. “It’s over already? Will there be more of this tomorrow?”

“Yes, there’s always a new episode every day.” 

Suddenly Amelia gasped. “Aw, no! I have to go home tomorrow.”

“You can always visit us again. I would love someone around who appreciates spices as much as I do,” said Amara.

“And you can watch the teleseryes with me, but don’t tell your mom,” said Maribeth.

Amelia grinned. “Deal!”

2. To Grow

After that first weekend visit, Amelia began staying over more often. This pleasantly surprised Amara and especially Maribeth; Amelia’s mother was strict. Perhaps Amelia was gaining something in their house that Emma liked. Maribeth saw this in action when Amelia told them about the time she got bullied one day.

“There was this girl who was being so mean to me, so I dressed up all in red and I told her off! She slapped me, but I didn’t slap back and everyone saw and now she’s suspended for two weeks! It was just like Maamong Tupa!” Upon hearing this, Maribeth first bombarded Amelia with a million questions about the slap Amelia endured but after a million subsequent reassurances from Amelia, Maribeth’s resulting plan of action was to celebrate Amelia’s nonviolence by making halo-halo for Amelia and Amara to slurp up the ube ice cream happily.

Amelia’s frequent visits seemed to also make Amara and Maribeth’s home lighter and brighter. During Amelia’s second visit, Maribeth and Amara swore that the calla lilies sprout half an inch from Amelia laughing particularly hard at the teleseryes. 

Amara had just shook her head, smiling, when she looked at the calla lilies half an hour after Amelia’s big laugh. “Who needs green thumbs when you got an Amelia?” With Amelia in the house, there was a kind of peaceful bliss that settled in it. It was something that could not be achieved if one was living alone.

Nonetheless the peacefulness and bliss could not last forever. Before Amelia visited Maribeth and Amara for the fifth time this year (much to their surprise), Maribeth returned home glum from a hospital check-up. 

“What happened? Did the doctors say anything?” asked Amara

“I got a diagnosis, Amara.”

“Diagnosis?” It took a bit for the news to settle in. “Oh. The diagnosis.”

“Yeah. But maybe it’s not as bad as the doctors think it’ll be. Maybe it’ll be gone by Christmas.”

Amara bit her lip in thought. “Maybe. Maybe.”

They made lunch in silence as the teleseryes played before Amelia arrived. It was the first time Maribeth cut herself with a kitchen knife in decades.

3. To Bloom

Things did not get better for Maribeth. The disease grew worse despite the intensive treatment, to the point that Maribeth had to be hospitalized. 

The days all blurred until one day Amelia came by Amara, the two wearing red dresses, and Emma. Maribeth looked at Amara in shock. It’s okay, Amara mouthed. 

Amelia charged towards the bed and hugged her. Maribeth could see Emma’s discomfort, her face contorted just for a second. 

“Hi Lola. Are you feeling ok?”

“As ok as I can be, anak, thank you for asking.”

“I bet you’re hungry, especially with all this awful hospital food,” said Amelia. She then pulled out from her backpack a plastic container filled with beef empanadas. “Don’t worry, I had Ate Amara hold off on the spice.”

“Also,” Amara said, “we wanted to make sure you got this.” Then Amara gave her a bouquet of beautiful white flowers. Maribeth squinted at them and gasped. “Your calla lilies.”

Amara smiled. “They finally bloomed after all.

Emma cleared her throat, taking a small step towards her mother. “Thank…thank you for taking care of Amelia and teaching her some of the Filipino culture. Just know that I — thank you.”

Tears swelled in Maribeth’s eyes. “Thank you Emma, thank you.”

Amelia hugged Maribeth again. “We have to watch the finale when it happens Lola! I have an app that allows you to watch Filipino shows now! We can watch right here!”

“I don’t know if I can promise that.” Upon hearing Maribeth’s words, Amelia shrunk. “But I can try my best to watch every episode I can with you.” 

Maribeth shifted, patting the bed next to her with a soft smile. Amelia crawled into the crevice next to her. Maribeth gestured for Amara and Emma to come closer, and together, cramped around a hospital bed, they watched a lovely girl in red.