Battle of Seattle

At the end of July in 2007 my wife and I with her parents other members of her family went on an Alaskan cruise out of Seattle. Prior to leaving on our cruise, we arrived in Seattle three days early to sightsee.

Our last day in Seattle was filled with cramming in what we had not yet seen before boarding our cruise the next day. That afternoon our family invaded Pike’s Market in force. In fluid maneuver, this group of fifteen Filipinos and one tall white guy (that’s me) poured into the market.

We happened to enter the market in its floral area. It was a stunning kaleidoscope of colors. Scents blossomed into our noses. We broke up into smaller groups which then went off to explore different areas of interest in the market.

My wife and I made our ways into produce stalls. At some point she peeled off with her cousins and I was left to fend for myself surrounded by fruit and vegetables. As I made my way down the aisle, I wished we had this kind of selection back home.

After perusing various apples, I found myself in a sea of cherries. And not only red Bing cherries, but also Rainier cherries. Rainier cherries are my favorite fruit (after watermelon). These cherries are yellowish-red and sweet.

An added bonus was that at Pike’s market they were only $2.99 per pound. At home they were usually six or seven dollars a pound. I just had to have some of these marble-sized fruit delights! I picked up the small paper bag from a nearby shelf and began filling it with my treasure.

Then it happened. From nowhere a small feminine hand appeared and slapped mine as I went to grab more cherries. While it made a pretty loud noise, this slap did not hurt. It did get my attention. I followed the hand up a velour clad arm to slight shoulders and small head a foot below mine. On it I discovered my mother-in-law’s face.

With an earnest expression, she said two words while shaking her finger at me. “No cherries!” cut through the air in her clear, curt voiced accented by Tagalog. Then she turned around and left.

Before I recognized her I started getting mad. My first thought was who is hitting me? Then when I saw her face a sense of bewilderment set in.

I love my mother-in-law. She is a blessing as a second mother. Her daughter and I had been married for almost ten years at that point. We had always gotten along. But I was not prepared for this encounter.

I was in my mid-thirties at that point. I had served in the Navy and had my own business. Caught in this no-man’s land between anger and confusion one question kept going through my head. “Why couldn’t I buy cherries?”

“Well”, I answered, “I can buy cherries!” And I did. I bought three pounds of them. There were far more cherries than I would be able to eat before our cruise departed Seattle. But there was a point to be made, a principle to be upheld! Or so I thought.

With my arsenal of cherries in hand, I paid the vendor and made off to find my bride. Apparently as I walked down the market, my wife could tell I was upset about something. She excused herself from her cousin and intercepted me before I made contact with nearby family.

“What is wrong”, she asked? Then looking down at the paper bag of cherries ready to burst she followed-up with, “Why so many cherries”? I explained what had happened with her mother and she did not know why she had instructed me not to buy any more cherries.

My wife looked around but could not see her mother. My wife said not to worry about it and I got distracted by watching fish mongers throwing fish. Shiny objects (or silver fish in this case) do that to me.

Later when we sat down for dinner, Aileen told me she had talked to mother. Mom was trying to tell me not to buy any more Rainier cherries because she had already bought five pounds. This was because she knew I like them. So she got extra cherries for everyone to share. Needless to say, I felt like a heel.

Sometimes quality of communications can be muddled by humanity’s best emotion of all. Love. When communications are unclear (or just plain confusing), I learned to stop and consider what was going on and its source. Communication can come in forms, tones, and expressions we are not expecting. Before we let it put us off our game (and raise our blood pressure), stop. What might appear as a slight or insult could just be another way of someone saying they love you.