Monday - January 19, 2004
My grandmother's diary.
Lola Puring's notebook is handmade, stapled
half-sheets of yellowed bond paper. Her handwriting is elegant, her prose
ladylike and religious. The notebook has a short account of her trip to Culion,
after the war, to bring back non-leprous children to Welfareville (she mentions
vomiting at least thrice during their sea journey); seminar notes (including a
long section on symptoms of juvenile delinquency, which include: popularity,
masturbation, heterosexual and homosexual tendencies, refusal to eat, refusal to
eat except for one kind of food); and articles she wrote for the Legion of Mary
(in one, she describes herself as the irregular treasurer, and asks that the
head of their group be given a bouquet).
She and my Lola Engay were probably the most educated women in my family, of their generation. I wonder if the wedding invitation I found tucked into the handmade envelope that holds her notebook is of significance, on the level of unrequited love and alternate lives.
She and my Lola Engay were probably the most educated women in my family, of their generation. I wonder if the wedding invitation I found tucked into the handmade envelope that holds her notebook is of significance, on the level of unrequited love and alternate lives.