Marin Vivian Tucker

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1. I met my auntie Rin when I was about a year old,only because we were living in Guam when I was born. My mom, Carol Tolleson, and Auntie Rin were cousins and also only children. Subsequently the families spent lots of time together. I grew up thinkong that Auntie Rin was my mom's sister. No one ever clued me in until I was in my late teens. But she was and always will be "my aunt/my mom".
   When I was a kid Auntie Rin and Uncle Gene would come down to Coronado to take me to Hayward. Once I was older I would take the train to Hayward. I had marvelous times with the Tucker clan, then and now.
   I have many memories of the Auntie Rin and her family. There were two summers in particular that stand out in my memory. One was the summer of '59 and the Tucker clan came to stay with my family in Coronado. Stephen had a letter jacket from Pacific University. I had a huge crush on Steve, and wanted to get his attention. I talked Brent into going into Stephen's room and getting his jacket. I then dumped a bottle of my mom's joy perfume all over it (PU) It worked! I got his attention, my mom's and Auntie Rin's. That was also the summer of Gary's Bongo Business idea. They went to Tijuana and Gary came back with all these bongo drums. He was going to take them home and sell them. It didn't work out as planned.
   Another memorable summer was the summer of '63. I was joined at the Tucker house by Sandy, and Charla (other cousins from Uncle Gene's side of the family). We quickly bonded and spent the summer getting into (or trying to) as much mischief as we could. And blaming everything on our cousin Brent, if we got caught.
   Auntie Rin and Uncle Gene chauffeured us to San Franciso and all the sights around, 17 Mile Dr., Sausalito, Stinson Beach, Muir Woods....well, you get the picture, everywhere! Sandy was an ice cream fanatic, so we always had to stop for some at some point during the trip. Brent was sleeping in the little bedroom, and was always trying to crawl or tiptoe down the hall to the middle bedroom,which Sandy and I shared. At the end of my stay in Hayward, Auntie Rin and Uncle Gene, drove all of us to Pt. Mugu to stay with my family.
   Auntie Rin always told me that I was "the daughter she never had". She managed to accumulate a sorority of daughters she never had, but I was probably the first. And what a great honor for me!! She was always patient, kind, generous and most of all unconditional in her love. I survived my childhood and teen years because of her. In many ways she WAS MY MOTHER!
   I am so grateful that I had these last 8 months to share time and holidays with her.
   I will forever love and miss her!!!

   Jan Carol Tolleson Tucker
   

   I met my auntie Rin when I was about a year old,only because we were living in Guam when I was born. My mom, Carol Tolleson, and Auntie Rin were cousins and also only children. Subsequently the families spent lots of time together. I grew up thinkong that Auntie Rin was my mom's sister. No one ever clued me in until I was in my late teens. But she was and always will be "my aunt/my mom".
   When I was a kid Auntie Rin and Uncle Gene would come down to Coronado to take me to Hayward. Once I was older I would take the train to Hayward. I had marvelous times with the Tucker clan, then and now.
   I have many memories of the Auntie Rin and her family. There were two summers in particular that stand out in my memory. One was the summer of... READ MORE →

   Posted by Jan T. Tucker from Henderson, NV - Cousin/Niece/Daughter-in-law on April 02, 2010
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2. My favorite memory of my sweet Aunty Rin -

   Aunty Rin was such a loving and giving person. During my young life, in the midst of turbulent family situations, she was there for me showing me love and understanding. Every time she and Uncle Gene came to visit us we would have so much fun, going to restaurants or the beach. We did things I never got to do. When I was 14 she invited me to come to Hayward and stay with them for a vacation in the summer. Everyday was a new adventure for me. We went to San Francisco for the day and she took me to Chinatown and we got to sit on the floor and eat Chinese food. She loved the oriental artwork and ceramics, and we shopped in some of her favorite stores.
   Next we went to Golden Gate Park, and walked along the lake and then to the Japanese Gardens. We had tea in the middle of the garden and she took my picture standing on the arched bridge. We both had so much fun, it was as if it was her first time in the city also. Aunty Rin & Uncle Gene had a house in the beautiful hills of Felton. On this trip I got to go and stay there for a few days. Aunty Rin knew I loved horses, and across the road there was a farm and they had horses out in the pasture. We would go out in the afternoon and bring apples to feed the horses so I could pet them. I have several pictures of that trip, thanks to Aunty Rin, and it stills brings a smile to my face when I remember how much fun we had.
   I will miss her very much but I know heaven is a happier place with her there. Thank you Aunty Rin for always making me feel so special!

   From her Niece Nancy

   My favorite memory of my sweet Aunty Rin -

   Aunty Rin was such a loving and giving person. During my young life, in the midst of turbulent family situations, she was there for me showing me love and understanding. Every time she and Uncle Gene came to visit us we would have so much fun, going to restaurants or the beach. We did things I never got to do. When I was 14 she invited me to come to Hayward and stay with them for a vacation in the summer. Everyday was a new adventure for me. We went to San Francisco for the day and she took me to Chinatown and we got to sit on the floor and eat Chinese food. She loved the oriental artwork and ceramics, and we shopped in some of her favorite stores.
   Next we went to Golden Gate Park, and walked along the lake... READ MORE →

   Posted by Nancy Gore from Colleyville, TX - Niece on March 31, 2010
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3. Memories of Mother
   – from her Adopted Daughter

   First time I met mother she was wearing a canary sweater with a light yellow blouse and matching beige pants. Yellow – not amber or a sunny hew – but in your face, bright, bold, yellow was her favorite color.
   Her hair was all done and her make-up was perfect. Mother was very conscious and meticulous about her appearance. She seemed warm and confident. She called me to sit beside her and we chatted. At that time, I called her “Tita Marin,” which translates to “Auntie Marin.” We talked about where I came from and she told me about her family and working as a docent in the zoo. She loved animals – all kinds of animals, but especially elephants, which she had displayed in pictures, engravings, statuettes, trinkets, and embroidery throughout the house. Maybe because elephants have long memories, like hers, or because they live for a century or more as she almost did, or because when it is their time, they simply lie down and quietly go, as she finally did.

   I remember the first time I made steak for her. I had put it in the oven and baked it for 30 minutes. As she started eating it, she began to chew and chew and chew. After chewing for ten minutes, She asked, “What did you do to the steak, Margie? It feels like rubber. How long did you cook it?” I told her I had never cooked steak before and she laughed. “It’s ok, you’ll learn.” I did. Thanks to her. She taught me how to cook American food – meat loaf, asparagus, artichokes, and casseroles. But she also loved my native dishes from the Phillipines, especially adobo.

   As I write this, I am sitting in the backyard garden she loved, with so many shrubs and flowers and trees – each one with a story: who gave it to her, when she planted it, what it replaced, when it bloomed. I specifically remember when I pruned one shrub. I cut back all the parts I thought were dried and ugly including the buds. She asked, “What did you do?” I told her, “I was cutting it, like you wanted.” She said, “I think you killed it!” Now, this Sunday, following her death, I am looking over at it at it and notice it is blooming again for the first time since that day.

   We spent much of our time in the garden. All afternoon in the spring, summer, and fall, walking for exercise or just sitting on the porch swing. Sitting there until dinner or dark whichever came first. George (named after the monkey, “Curious George”), the neighborhood roustabout feline, would sit on her lap. He never went hungry because she always asked me to buy food for him, not to mention the birds and squirrels that frequented the yard.

   She taught me to be gracious and thoughtful. She always remembered the birthdays, anniversaries, and special moments of her friends and family. She would send me to shop to buy cards and stationary. When holidays came, she gave me money to get gifts and cards for myself.

   There was never a time at night, before bed that we did not laugh. She always said, “Laughter is my best medicine.” I would dance to make her smile then lay against her breast to hug her and say, ‘Good night.” She would rub my back, tired and strained from the day’s labors. Her hands would be soft and gentle, she would say, “You need a massage.” Before going up to sleep, I would feel my body and soul relax as I felt her frame lift and fall with each breath.

   When her family left town or went on a trip, she always wept. I might say, “Mother, why cry? It’s a short while. They will be back soon.” She would remind me, “Margie, at my age, each good-bye could be the last.”
   When I returned after the first of the year from a vacation in the Philippines, I asked, “What do you wish to do when your birthday comes?”
   She said, “Margie, I don’t think I will last that long.”
   
   I replied, “Your mother made it to 105, you should at least go for 100.”
   She only laughed. She was tired, I knew. She mentioned a few weeks later that her family was grown, her husband had passed, and the boys were all happily married. She had a good run– visited Europe, Africa, and the Mideast. There was not much left she felt she needed to do.
   As time went on, she referred to me as the “daughter I never had.” When I took time off, she would greet me by saying, “This is your home, Margie, this is where you belong … and I am so glad you are home, my daughter.” By then, I called her “Mother” and I promised I would never leave her as long as she lived … and I didn’t. When she took her final breath, I was right beside her.

   I had just said to her, “Mother, if you wish to go, it’s ok. You can go now. Brent, and Steven, and Gary, and Lisa, and Jan and all the rest of the family, they have all have given permission. It’s okay, you can pass on.” Her blood oxygen level was low and I called to the nurse who said, “Well, I’ll get an eight liter bottle, so she can breathe more readily.”
   I think she heard that and thought, “No way! Another eight liters? You just said I could go! What are you talking about? I am getting out of here.” I felt her hand grow cold and I knew she was gone.

   She was always courteous, and witty, and dignified. And she must have realized that part of grace is knowing when to leave the party. She would not have wanted to overstay her welcome, even though, for many of us, it felt like she had just barely arrived.

   Farewell Mother! It was my great pleasure to take care of you for almost four years. It felt like a lifetime, a blessed, blessed life. And now it is my turn to let you go. Bye bye.
   
   – Margarita Sara, March 28, 2010

   Memories of Mother
   – from her Adopted Daughter

   First time I met mother she was wearing a canary sweater with a light yellow blouse and matching beige pants. Yellow – not amber or a sunny hew – but in your face, bright, bold, yellow was her favorite color.
   Her hair was all done and her make-up was perfect. Mother was very conscious and meticulous about her appearance. She seemed warm and confident. She called me to sit beside her and we chatted. At that time, I called her “Tita Marin,” which translates to “Auntie Marin.” We talked about where I came from and she told me about her family and working as a docent in the zoo. She loved animals – all kinds of animals, but especially elephants, which she had displayed in pictures, engravings, statuettes, trinkets, and embroidery throughout the house. Maybe because elephants have long memories, like hers,... READ MORE →

   Posted by Margarita Sara from Hayward, CA - Adopted Daughter on March 29, 2010
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