Celebration of Life: Nora Flores

 

Celebration of Life: Nora Flores – April 26, 2025

(December, 2025: very slightly altered version)

Welcome to this Celebration of Life.  It is what Nora wanted - a celebration of life with all of you as well as with all those that still echo from the infinite past. Thank you all for coming.  I am sure you are dear to Nora in a unique and special way.

Nora is 82 years old.  I am 83.  I am her husband.  I am older than her by 9 months.  My birthday is in February.  Her's is in October.

We have been married shy of 10 years and have known each other for about 2 years more.  That means both of us lived separate lives that spanned 70 years before we met.  I can only speak to 12 of her 82 years.

Since this is a celebration of life, let me offer a maybe-funny, maybe-whimsical fictitious narrative.  The characters in this narrative are not intended to portray any real person, even though the names of real persons are used in the story.

 

The Covert Operatives 

It all started with Emilie, Nora’s eldest daughter.  She handed me $500 saying she would follow it with $500 more.  

“It is to replenish your cache, your go-bag, from which my mother drew about $1000 several days ago,” she explained.  It was part of the stuff we had ready in case we had to activate in a moment’s notice; or, if we had to disappear for good.  I was puzzled and shocked at the same time.  I did not know what to say or how to respond. 

It became clear that Emilie “knew.”  She knew her mother and I were undercover agents; that we were covert operatives.  It did not matter to me why and how she came to know.  The fact is that she knew.  How could Nora be so cavalier as to divulge what we successfully kept under wraps for so long?  

I said nothing.  I was supposed to say nothing.  When I brought it up to Nora, she was calm and undismayed.  “You worry too much and overthink everything,” she replied.  “Give others credit.  No one, in his/her right mind would give credence to such an outlandish preposterous explanation.  This is our real cover.  The cover for our cover.  We can talk about what we do without actually saying or revealing anything.” 

I admit Nora's explanation did make some sense.  I found it appealing but it was not like I had an epiphany.  This was not like Nora.  

Nora continued trying to convince me.  She did not try too hard as she spoke as if she was talking to herself. 

Nora told the story that she frequently related to others, of how when we were young in the Philippines, we lived in the same housing district and went to the same school.  She emphasized that we never knew each other then or ran into each other then.  It was only here, in the U.S., when we were well into our 60’s that we actually met - and later married.

“This is what I mean by saying something but not saying anything,” Nora explained.  What she did not say was that not only were we in the same location in the Philippines on more than one occasion, but we were also in the same location in the U.S. on several occasions. We were in Manhattan, Kansas around the same time for example.  After we retired, Nora worked in many different medical facilities as a locum tenens, meaning that she filled temporary positions for people that were on leave, or positions that were in the process of being filled.  The setup was perfect.  It took us all over the country: Kansas, Missouri, Rhode Island and Alaska were a few of the hubs out of which we worked.  It allowed us to undertake many covert missions at a moment's notice. “There are no coincidences,” Nora reminded me.   

You will note that I am not giving enough specifics to allow anyone here to establish the truth of what Nora and I are saying.  We are not saying anything.  There is no evidence.  There is no record.  

This means I do not have to kill you.  Actually, we never killed anyone – not even the bad guys.  We could have but we didn’t.  We wouldn’t even if we could.  It is not what we signed up for.  We were in communications, strategic maneuvers, logistics and analysis.  We were into meditation, reflection and cogitation.  War of all kinds is our greatest enemy.  There is a misconception that covert work is all about getting away with combat and killing; with hurting and destroying.  This misconception makes money for the entertainment business but is far from the truth.  We were a vehicle; angels of life rather than demons of darkness.  

Still. I was slightly undaunted.  “Who would believe us?”  I muttered under my breath.  I looked at her dubiously.  

“What,” she implored me to drop the subject.  “What? she blurted out again after a pause.”  I would have said “what…what…what.,” echoing the structure of Pilipino where vowel sounds are repeated in rapid succession.  

[example “Inaasaan ko na susubukan mo ang sinabi ko sa iyo.” Translation: “I am hoping you will try I suggested to you.”]

“Oh, all right,” she finally conceded.  She spoke slowly and carefully.  “We may need Emilie,” she said.  “Emilie is a covert operative like we are, only with an organization much more inclusive than the one we belong to.”  Nora breathed a sigh of relief.  It was then that I had an epiphany.  I understood what she was risking.          

“We are safe,” Nora assured me.  She came close and drew me into a long embrace.  “We will never have to pick up and disappear at a moment’s notice,” she continued.  “We will never have to be separated.  We will never have to flip a coin”

“Besides we have our ways, and we have our secret.  Remember the quote that hangs in our bedroom.  There lies the key.  No one will ever figure it out.”  

But where was it in the quote, I asked myself.  Was it in the words?  Was it in the frame?  Was it a link or clue to something else?

What does the quote mean?  What does it hide? 

And I’d choose you,  

in a hundred lifetimes,  

in a hundred worlds, 

in any version of reality.  

I’d find you and 

I’d choose you.