missing lola edith
My Lola Edith passed away exactly one year ago.
I had just arrived at the hospital from work, and there were various doctors and nurses in her room. Mama informed me that Lola's blood pressure was rapidly decreasing. In the end, no matter how much they tried, they weren't able to get her back.
The week during her collapse up until her death, I couldn't quite deal with the guilt I was feeling. I felt that I could've been a better grand-daughter, but I thought I wasn't. My mom and my aunt Ruth told me that no matter what I think, my grandmother loved me, and she was proud of me.
Between my mom's parents, Lola, to me, was the one with a stronger personality. If Lolo was the favorite brother, Lola was the favorite sister-in-law.
She was also one of the smartest people I knew. Like when we were watching TV, and some weird question in one game show would pop up, she was the one who would have the right answer. She could solve crossword puzzles in minutes (without the aide of a dictionary, AND using a ball-point pen). She kept a daily journal (a habit I may have gotten from her), and her mind is really just a font of valuable information.
Lola was also the master of arts and crafts, of bargains and of ingenious alternatives. A skill which my mom and her siblings got, and perhaps, I got that from her too. She told me once of a lamp shade she made with paper mache. A visitor from Germany loved it so much, he took it with him. Lola claims that she can't draw, but she came from a family of talented artists (and she used to tell me that I cannot say I'm not talented because I have it from both my dad and mom's side... ok I'm bragging now).
She was also the undisputed kitchen goddess of the clan. Every time there's a family gathering, she would always be in the kitchen cooking something, and no party would never be the same without her Bicol Express. Even if anyone of us volunteers to take over cooking duties, Lola would sooner or later show up in the kitchen and supervise us all. She always had a high respect for my drawing skills, but when she praised my cooking, I felt like I was ready for Iron Chef.
Which is why it's perhaps fitting that the last place she was in before we rushed her to the hospital was the kitchen. I didn't see her when she collapsed, but I could never look at that kitchen the same way since then.
I learned a lot for her. I miss you Lola. I love you.
I had just arrived at the hospital from work, and there were various doctors and nurses in her room. Mama informed me that Lola's blood pressure was rapidly decreasing. In the end, no matter how much they tried, they weren't able to get her back.
The week during her collapse up until her death, I couldn't quite deal with the guilt I was feeling. I felt that I could've been a better grand-daughter, but I thought I wasn't. My mom and my aunt Ruth told me that no matter what I think, my grandmother loved me, and she was proud of me.
Between my mom's parents, Lola, to me, was the one with a stronger personality. If Lolo was the favorite brother, Lola was the favorite sister-in-law.
She was also one of the smartest people I knew. Like when we were watching TV, and some weird question in one game show would pop up, she was the one who would have the right answer. She could solve crossword puzzles in minutes (without the aide of a dictionary, AND using a ball-point pen). She kept a daily journal (a habit I may have gotten from her), and her mind is really just a font of valuable information.
Lola was also the master of arts and crafts, of bargains and of ingenious alternatives. A skill which my mom and her siblings got, and perhaps, I got that from her too. She told me once of a lamp shade she made with paper mache. A visitor from Germany loved it so much, he took it with him. Lola claims that she can't draw, but she came from a family of talented artists (and she used to tell me that I cannot say I'm not talented because I have it from both my dad and mom's side... ok I'm bragging now).
She was also the undisputed kitchen goddess of the clan. Every time there's a family gathering, she would always be in the kitchen cooking something, and no party would never be the same without her Bicol Express. Even if anyone of us volunteers to take over cooking duties, Lola would sooner or later show up in the kitchen and supervise us all. She always had a high respect for my drawing skills, but when she praised my cooking, I felt like I was ready for Iron Chef.
Which is why it's perhaps fitting that the last place she was in before we rushed her to the hospital was the kitchen. I didn't see her when she collapsed, but I could never look at that kitchen the same way since then.
I learned a lot for her. I miss you Lola. I love you.