THE SHAPE OF LOVE

A separated Filipino family finds a way to remain connected.

“In Celia’s family, love doesn’t stay in one place.” It’s carefully packed into a balikbayan box to be shipped between locations. Balikbayan boxes, Jao explains in her author’s note, “are a tradition of love in many Filipino families,” carrying carefully curated treasures to the family back home; the term comes from the Tagalog words balik (“to return”) and bayan (“country”). One parent, Celia, lives in California and mails gifts to another parent and three kids back in Manila: basketball shoes for the oldest child, books for the middle, and candy for the youngest. Jao, who recalls how “some of [her] dearest childhood memories involve balikbayan boxes,” poignantly conflates the box’s journey with the love within, “weather[ing] bumpy roads and constant commotion.” More important than physical things, Jao reminds readers, is “catching up on missed conversations” via video chat until a face-to-face reunion can happen someday. Caro’s cleverly amplifying art suggests that Celia works in medicine; Celia wears scrubs and a prominent badge and has a medical textbook. An image of two hearts on a map, connected by dotted lines, reveals the family’s geographies and even time zones. Energetic spreads empathically capture Celia’s small studio (its walls covered with mementos of home), as well as deep emotions: the children’s joy and gratitude, the poignancy of separation.

Heartwarmingly underscores how one family living apart shares and sustains vital bonds.