LOLA
It has been four months since my grandmother suffered stroke but to me it feels like eternity. Somehow, I found it hard to articulate my feelings and convince myself that a fateful day like that could happen to an enegetic, beaming-with-so-much-life 83 year old. Maybe, I thought she is immortal. But like other people, she got afflicted with the stroke and since that day, life was never the same for her, for me and for my family.
She was not my rock, she was my boulder.. She is impervious to adversity. She stood tall eversince my elementary days. I knew it the way she gazed outside the window when we were financially drained. At an early age of maybe 7 or 8, I knew the words, "utang or delihensya" or pawning. So, I vowed one day that I will leave my roots at Frisco to provide my family a better life. Seems to me more like the movie, "Luluhod ang mga Tala" when Sharon Cuneta beseeched faith and fate to help her leave her and Gina Parreno's rotten-life for a brighter future. I thought that only happened in the movies until it happened to me.
When I heard the news of the stroke and the extent of its effects on her, I froze solid. How can she suffer? She has weathered blows and storms one after the other while I was still a child. No, she can't be subjected to this physical pain. I botled things inside. I went to work half-functioning. I lived myopically. I found myself in a crowd full of lost souls. Every turn I took led me to realize how unfair life had been to her. I could not express my feelings for some reason. All I did was breathe work in and out until I became numb of my melancholy.
At times, I pray that the Lord just take her to finish her earthly struggle and I realize it is HIS will and not mine. She is not able to swallow nor speak as these are all physical manifestations of the stroke. My aunt told me that she still smiles, that she still exudes the warmth of her presence in them. I, on the other hand, still recalls my vibrant lola, ballroom-dancing or visualize her getting ready to go to church or the market. I can still her in her duster, reading the newspaper in our balconahe. Or how I scold her when she spits on the road. I miss her, I could not express the extent because I do not know how much. All I know is that my heart is gripped everytime I long for her voice or for her laughter. I call her and read her passages everyday. Although there is dead air at the other line, I know she listens intently to what I say. I make up some stories at times because I want to paint a beautiful picture in her head. A picture that will make the reality of her condition leave only for a moment.
I miss receiving newspaper clips from her and miss her singing, "O maliwanag na buwan, kami ni joy ay iyong bantayan..". The list of all these yearnings for her presence will never end. Sometimes I catch myself doing or saying things I know she will also say. In these moments, I feel her presence. Her wisdom has transcended to me. On days I wish to console myself, I listen to Matt Monro or Frank Sinatra and imagine that someday I will be there by her side. When that day comes, I know she will be the happiest grandmother in the world.
She was not my rock, she was my boulder.. She is impervious to adversity. She stood tall eversince my elementary days. I knew it the way she gazed outside the window when we were financially drained. At an early age of maybe 7 or 8, I knew the words, "utang or delihensya" or pawning. So, I vowed one day that I will leave my roots at Frisco to provide my family a better life. Seems to me more like the movie, "Luluhod ang mga Tala" when Sharon Cuneta beseeched faith and fate to help her leave her and Gina Parreno's rotten-life for a brighter future. I thought that only happened in the movies until it happened to me.
When I heard the news of the stroke and the extent of its effects on her, I froze solid. How can she suffer? She has weathered blows and storms one after the other while I was still a child. No, she can't be subjected to this physical pain. I botled things inside. I went to work half-functioning. I lived myopically. I found myself in a crowd full of lost souls. Every turn I took led me to realize how unfair life had been to her. I could not express my feelings for some reason. All I did was breathe work in and out until I became numb of my melancholy.
At times, I pray that the Lord just take her to finish her earthly struggle and I realize it is HIS will and not mine. She is not able to swallow nor speak as these are all physical manifestations of the stroke. My aunt told me that she still smiles, that she still exudes the warmth of her presence in them. I, on the other hand, still recalls my vibrant lola, ballroom-dancing or visualize her getting ready to go to church or the market. I can still her in her duster, reading the newspaper in our balconahe. Or how I scold her when she spits on the road. I miss her, I could not express the extent because I do not know how much. All I know is that my heart is gripped everytime I long for her voice or for her laughter. I call her and read her passages everyday. Although there is dead air at the other line, I know she listens intently to what I say. I make up some stories at times because I want to paint a beautiful picture in her head. A picture that will make the reality of her condition leave only for a moment.
I miss receiving newspaper clips from her and miss her singing, "O maliwanag na buwan, kami ni joy ay iyong bantayan..". The list of all these yearnings for her presence will never end. Sometimes I catch myself doing or saying things I know she will also say. In these moments, I feel her presence. Her wisdom has transcended to me. On days I wish to console myself, I listen to Matt Monro or Frank Sinatra and imagine that someday I will be there by her side. When that day comes, I know she will be the happiest grandmother in the world.