It is now 11 days post-op and I’m still homebound, except for check-ups at the clinic and a trip to the mall to buy Spanx bras and a Tempur wedge pillow.
Last Monday I hauled my carcass off to a wake of my uncle who had died last week.
Funny how you don’t think deeply about some people until they die.
What I have about my Tito Meckoy Quiogue are great childhood memories.
A few have told me what a great boss and mentor he had been, but to me he was the coolest uncle.
If my memory serves me right, he took us cousins to Magnolia Ice Cream Parlour.
He took us to the movies. I have vivid memories of Logan’s Run because it was creepy and had bomba, and I was a kid. I was probably not supposed to see that. 
My uncle was so cool he got us to watch a preview of the first Superman movie with Christopher Reeve, before it hit the cinemas officially.
He used to work at Coca-Cola, so we got to watch the filming of a Coke commercial in Baguio. I still remember the jingle.
He let my brother and sister and cousin appear in a Coke commercial, while my Tita Noli appeared in a Breeze commercial.
When we were kids back in the ’70s, Coke had a yoyo promo which brought the international yoyo champions to Manila. The champions even appeared at my cousin’s birthday party at home.
He played baril-barilan with us—a game which thrilled us to bits.
When we all grew up, we didn’t see Tito Meckoy regularly because he had a new family, though we would bump into him occasionally at events.
When he died I thought about the memories—that he was a cool uncle, and he was always good-looking.
Tito Meckoy with my cousin Enet at Hemady (I wonder who’s hiding in the back)
L-R: At work with Ed Roa, Meckoy Quiogue, Willy Ocampo, Frankie Gonzales (Photo: Ed Roa)
My husband says he doesn’t have vivid childhood memories, but I can remember as far back as three or four years old.
I remember bits and pieces of it, and what I like to remember is the kindness of people.
Because as I get older, I look back to my childhood for warm memories, so I try to give my children good ones.
Tito Meckoy was one of those good memories, and I thank him for that.
As I looked around his wake and saw the people that loved him, all the flowers and the few mementoes they put on display, I had the warm feeling he lived a good life and that God would welcome him with open arms.
Originally published at Chuvaness.com. You can comment here or there.