It seems fitting that my first letter in the series be aimed at the first person I ever met. The throws of your womb at the time only my subconscious is gracious for--but nearly 25 years later, the cognizant Leina`ala sits straining for your warm embrace more frequently than the reality.
I will never forget what Jim said after a heated debate over the Robinson Thanksgiving dinner in 2012; "Leina`ala, there are two people in this family that are the smartest people I have ever met. Your cousin Cathy, and your mother. You are already lucky enough to look just like her, work towards a brain like hers." It caught me off guard, as I had never heard you pick apart the state of the union with the family, and in my understanding of Dad's family; that's the only way to prove yourself.
I know it to be true. I remember you re-teaching yourself trigonometry for a few hours out of my textbook in high school, only to help me with my homework, not by helping me through the problem I was stuck on, but by posing a simple question: "why are you stuck?". When I said, "I don't understand the purpose of knowing all of this. Sine, cosine, tangent--I've never heard any adult use those outside of school." You smiled warmly and replied, "nothing is useless."
Nothing is useless. Mom, you are the living, breathing image of practicing what you preach. You recycle everything. Materials, feelings, thoughts, and my favorite, generosity.
If you're reading this and have ever met my mother, there is a 98% chance that you have received a gift or ten from her. A physical, in hand gift, with a small note about how she thought of you when she bought, made, saved, clipped or scrounged it up for you.
Mom, you leave macadamia nuts for servers at every table we eat out at. Every roommate I've ever had received an awesome Christmas present or two. Friends I don't even remember from high school received handmade graduation presents from you, and you have presents picked out for my birthday (12/16) in March.
You are the most positive person I have ever met. I left my purse at work the other day, and $50 was stolen out of it. The next day, as I asked around trying to figure out what happened--someone suggested the cleaning people may have taken it, since no one else was in the building later than me. My immediate thought was "I hope it went somewhere good. Put dinner on the table, or clothing on bodies." That attitude was born and raised from you, Phyllis Lei Robinson.
You cry at everything and nothing. You cry in movies, commercials and when you've heard terrible/amazing news. You don't cry when life gets really hard. You are calm, cool, collected, and tourniquet the bleed with the prowess of a medical professional; literally and figuratively. You laugh at everything and nothing. Dad and I were talking on the phone last week and he said he hasn't heard you laugh like this in so many years, that you're so lighthearted these days. Nothing makes me more happy than hearing your laugh.
I love you, and can't wait to see you this Christmas!
Leina`ala
P.S. Us in Paris, me--exhausted of travelling. You? Boning up on some local South African fiction to get a better idea of what the country we're visiting is going to be like.
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