Today
Today, my family lost my Lola Piling. When I was younger, we used to be much closer. She lived with my dad's only brother and during weekends, we'd always stop by their place. She had a green thumb and so their small garden was always filled with orchids. And she was also a great cook. I remember stealing all the gabi in the sinigang she prepared.
But as time passed, we went there less. And due to family dramas much too long and complicated to hash out, Lola Piling moved from Marikina to Antipolo. And because I'm not big on reunions, I seldom got to visit her. And the last time I saw her alive was, I think, 4 months ago.
And because she was no longer a big part of my teens and twenties, the news didn't hit me as badly as it did my parents and my mom. Or perhaps, it just hasn't sank in yet.
Denial and escapism are two of the ways I deal with loss. And I do not know if my lack of tears is largely because of that. I do know I am upset. But there are no extreme manifestations.
My mom was the only one I saw break down. My dad went to a dinner. My Lola Mary has started praying. Everyone is trying to just go about their day normally but it just feels a little too quiet and a little too slow.
Loss is a fact I should be familiar with by now. Life has certainly gone out of its way to show it will be full of it. If anything, there should be some grace by now in how I face it. But perhaps I'm just a slow learner. The idea of loss still scares me and in the face of it I lose my wits. I am unable to say what I need to say and do what I ought to.
I remember during the death of my high school's founder I broke down in tears. My classmates were shocked out of their boredom as I collapsed into a plant box. I am sort-of related to the school founder, yes but in no way were we close or even friendly. I do not know if he at least knew me by face. And so as everyone pulled the crazy crying girl up, no one but I knew that I was crying for my Daddy Lolo who passed away two or three weeks prior.
My Daddy Lolo whom I loved dearly and who always encouraged my writing had just died then. And because I am stupid with emotions, I remember laughing at his wake. I remember eating pizza, gobbling up the candy and playing a loud round of cards as people sat on the pews and prayed. I remember going to Tarlac to bury him but merely zoning out during the ceremony. It took me three weeks and someone else's death to realize I really missed my lolo.
The same is true for my cousin Myko's death. The same is true for all other losses (due to death or otherwise) that I have had to go through. My brain shuts off and I do and say the most stupid of things.
And so today, as I munched on a whole can of Chiz Curlz, laughed at sitcoms, and obsessed over my pimples...a part of me is fearful for the eventual tide of emotions. The moment when I realize that yet again life has taken away someone I care for and there's nothing I can really do about it.
And the worst part of it all is that the loss won't stop any time soon.
I really should learn to deal with it better.
But as time passed, we went there less. And due to family dramas much too long and complicated to hash out, Lola Piling moved from Marikina to Antipolo. And because I'm not big on reunions, I seldom got to visit her. And the last time I saw her alive was, I think, 4 months ago.
And because she was no longer a big part of my teens and twenties, the news didn't hit me as badly as it did my parents and my mom. Or perhaps, it just hasn't sank in yet.
Denial and escapism are two of the ways I deal with loss. And I do not know if my lack of tears is largely because of that. I do know I am upset. But there are no extreme manifestations.
My mom was the only one I saw break down. My dad went to a dinner. My Lola Mary has started praying. Everyone is trying to just go about their day normally but it just feels a little too quiet and a little too slow.
Loss is a fact I should be familiar with by now. Life has certainly gone out of its way to show it will be full of it. If anything, there should be some grace by now in how I face it. But perhaps I'm just a slow learner. The idea of loss still scares me and in the face of it I lose my wits. I am unable to say what I need to say and do what I ought to.
I remember during the death of my high school's founder I broke down in tears. My classmates were shocked out of their boredom as I collapsed into a plant box. I am sort-of related to the school founder, yes but in no way were we close or even friendly. I do not know if he at least knew me by face. And so as everyone pulled the crazy crying girl up, no one but I knew that I was crying for my Daddy Lolo who passed away two or three weeks prior.
My Daddy Lolo whom I loved dearly and who always encouraged my writing had just died then. And because I am stupid with emotions, I remember laughing at his wake. I remember eating pizza, gobbling up the candy and playing a loud round of cards as people sat on the pews and prayed. I remember going to Tarlac to bury him but merely zoning out during the ceremony. It took me three weeks and someone else's death to realize I really missed my lolo.
The same is true for my cousin Myko's death. The same is true for all other losses (due to death or otherwise) that I have had to go through. My brain shuts off and I do and say the most stupid of things.
And so today, as I munched on a whole can of Chiz Curlz, laughed at sitcoms, and obsessed over my pimples...a part of me is fearful for the eventual tide of emotions. The moment when I realize that yet again life has taken away someone I care for and there's nothing I can really do about it.
And the worst part of it all is that the loss won't stop any time soon.
I really should learn to deal with it better.