Consuelo Pacis

Consuelo Pacis

You are an old fashioned person. You believe in keeping things and not forgetting the old ways. You are honest. You always said exactly what was on your mind. At a time when being an immigrant and being a woman wasn’t easy, you became a businesswoman. You didn’t succeed by making yourself invisible, you spoke out and spoke up. You are a spontanous speechwriter, never at a loss for words - everyone knows this about you.

You are a leader. But it all begins with the word. As a young woman, mother, and businesswoman, you went religiously to the Toastmasters Club and put yourself forward for every speech. At that time, you are one of the few Asian American members of that club. People are afraid of public speaking. Even though English is their first language and it is not your mother tongue, you wouldn't know it when they hear you speak. It is pure, direct, and full of conviction.

You believe in helping people. Family and even those you don't know. When you grow up a poor child - but here I don't know if you ever considered yourself poor. There is a big difference between being rich in the First World or having money in the Third World. Let's say you had enough. You always had enough to eat, but you had a big family and you were sent to live with your aunts who raised you. Your father was educated and took photographs, at a time when few people had a camera and the process of developing pictures in a dark room with a chemical bath was still mysterious and foreign. He took the photographs for your town.

You worked in your family's shop, which was a kind of food truck that sold halo halo which everyone loves, the ice cream with chunks of ice and fresh fruit. You also sold supplies and anything that people needed. You were enterprising. You learned this young.

From your aunts, you learned to sew. You learned by watching. You have fine hands with long delicate fingers, even now. You could have been a pianist with those hands, but instead, you sewed. You can create any kind of invisible stitching and make dresses without a pattern. You could tell the size of my husband without even measuring, without even meeting him. One year you had the family make lace for a wedding dress, sewing on all the sequins and pearls. Today, people can buy this kind of delicate lace already made, produced by invisible machines in factories, or invisible workers with no name, but you were teaching us much more than how to make lace. You were teaching us diligence and patience and perfectionism, which you are known for. The perfectionism for which you have sometimes been taken advantage of. When people know that you believe in getting things right and that you love what you do, sometimes they will try not to pay you the right price. They will try to pay you in compliments. You see much more than you say. And you don't mind those people. For you, it has never been about money. Making dresses is an art. You are giving people something special that they could not afford.

It's your ability with language that gets you into college, that secures your immigration to America. Your uncle wants to sponsor your trip to Seattle. Normally there are competitive examinations and the Dean of Admissions doesn't believe that you will pass them. After all, you haven't even gone to an American high school, but you have been teaching yourself through books. Your uncle assures the dean that your English is excellent. Your uncle has brought all your letters to him to show him. When the dean reads them, he grants you a place at Seattle University, without meeting you, without taking an exam. The eloquence of your letters is demonstration enough.

You never forget how you and Grandpa had to fight to get where you did.

You never settle on doing the minimum. You teach us that we can be anything. You have so many dreams, for yourself, and for us. Our schooling begins before we start school. You and Grandpa are always quizzing us, playing games with us to expand our curiosity and knowledge. It's because of you I learned to read when I was three. I knew how important language was to you. We read that book together about Ping the Chinese duck until I knew every word. And I could spell each one. At least every word that rhymed with Ping. King - Wing - Sing! And then, complex ones Singing - Dreaming - Thinking! Before I knew it I was reading, and you made it as simple as learning a song.

There is a catchphrase that people have attached to me from that time because when I was a little girl, the first thing I said to them on greeting them was: Do you know something?

People thought it was funny for a little girl to use this greeting, and then follow it with telling them everything she had learned that day. And so I became Little Miss Do You Know Something.

I think I actually picked it up from you. You were always trying to pass on what you know. You are always looking beyond the present to other possibilities. You don't see challenges but opportunities. You believed in the best of the American Dream because it became true for you, through hard work and having a vision, you made yourself who you are. And you wanted the same for us.

Do you know something?

You are my hero. And I love you very much.

We spoke yesterday. We are separated by an ocean and two continents, but on this tiny screen I see you and you see me. I am you and you are me. My husband says I am the mirror image of you.

You tell me I am an old-fashioned person and that I'm honest and believe in giving. In the end, when all the words are said and the stories are written, the message you give me is so clear. It is what you want me to know and remember. The meaning of your life: Give, Love, even when you have nothing left to give. And what is left is words. Let the people you love know that you love them.

Story of Consuelo Pacis
translated by Mia Funk