All that remains...
On Tuesday night, June 30, I left for California with a friend for Anime Expo in Los Angeles. I arrived 18+ hours later at the Los Angeles Convention Center. That evening, my mother called to tell me that Grandpa Martin had passed on.
For all that was going on in my mind, I continued with what duties were given to me to the best of my abilities, helping out Bryan of Hen Da Ne, however, my mind still continued to process that my grandpa who I just saw only a month before then had just died. The next day, I found out that the funeral was the upcoming weekend. Following the convention, I took my bereavement leave to get ready for my grandpa's funeral. The two days with Bryan and his wife in San Diego were a blessing of quiet and thought and the two days in San Francisco with my UW friend, Cara, were of quiet discovery and processing while I spent time reacquainting myself with her and her life. On my day on my own in San Francisco, I found an exhibit at the San Francisco Library on calligraphy where someone's finished project only brought more thought along with tears.
On Thursday, I arrived in Marina at Grandpa's house for family gathering the day before the viewing. Friday was the viewing of my grandpa, the first I'd seen of him since a month ago. To say it was hard to handle would be an understatement. If it weren't for my cousin Lindsay's boyfriend, Josh, who had become a good friend, I don't know I would've gotten through it. At the viewing, stories were told of Grandpa. I learned a great deal more than I known before.
I knew Grandpa was a veteran, but I did not know it was of World War II and the Korean War or that he was also a prisoner of war. I knew Grandpa was a community man and well loved by many, but I had not known how many lives he had touched and to what extent, both in the United States and the Philippines. I learned that his favorite song was My Way by Frank Sinatra and that he loved bowling, boxing, basketball and sports in general. I learned that he was strict, but a role model, that he was loving and all of his children and grandchildren were his favorite, and that for all of the trials and tribulations his children, my mom included, went through, he had raised five children on his own; he was a survivor, a charmer, a community leader, as well as was a snappy dresser.
I wasn't raised to be close to my extended family, on either side, so I was only getting to know Grandpa a little bit since his 90th birthday. He was 92 when he passed last weekend. I had seen him on his 92nd birthday, having driven down from Tacoma then. Grandpa was a man of few words to me. But he always had been that way since I could remember. I remember when I drove down the first time. Though I never finished writing part 2 of that time, I was very happy and very proud to show Grandpa my masters degree. I felt very proud to have accomplished it and he looked very happy to see one of his grandchildren with a graduate degree. That was one of my favorite moments that stuck. Later, Lindsay told me that he had talked about me to others. People had asked him who I was, to which he answered, "That is my grandson, he has a masters degree."
When I first went down to visit him for his 90th birthday, for the first time in nearly fifteen years, I compiled as many of the photos that everyone took onto a CD for him and anyone that asked because it was something that I could do. Grandpa slipped some cash into my hand, which I thought it was for the photo compilation. When I visited for his 92nd birthday, he did the same thing, which I thought was because I graduated from graduate school. Before I left yesterday from Grandpa's house, Grandma Aurora came to give me a hug and had some cash in hand, to which I said, "I'm ok, it's ok." She put it in my hand and broke down and cried, "Grandpa wanted to make sure you were ok." I cried again as I hugged my grandma and accepted Grandpa's last gift.
My grandpa was a great man to the United States, to his community and to his family; he was a loving grandfather who I wish I could have visited more often. For whatever and whoever he was to anyone else, he was and is my grandpa. I'm proud of his life that he lead and the legacies he left behind, in the military, in the church, in the bowling alley and the filipino community. Most of all, I am proud that was my grandpa. I know he loved me, my mom and my sister and all of our accomplishments.
That project I found in the calligraphy exhibit was a poem in a beautiful script:
The tide recedes but leaves bright seashells on the sand
The sun goes down but leaves its warmth upon the land
The music stops by lives on in sweet refrain
For everything that passes something beautiful remains
My grandpa is survived by his memories which will last on in his children and grandchildren, his community in both the Philippines and the United States, and Grandma Aurora, the most supporting and loving wife my grandpa could have asked for. I will still be able to learn about my grandpa and his life even while his spirit watches over my mother, my sister and I.
May you find the peace and contentment in the afterlife you had every time I saw you, Grandpa.
R.I.P. Martin P. Andora
October 15, 1916 - July 1, 2009
For all that was going on in my mind, I continued with what duties were given to me to the best of my abilities, helping out Bryan of Hen Da Ne, however, my mind still continued to process that my grandpa who I just saw only a month before then had just died. The next day, I found out that the funeral was the upcoming weekend. Following the convention, I took my bereavement leave to get ready for my grandpa's funeral. The two days with Bryan and his wife in San Diego were a blessing of quiet and thought and the two days in San Francisco with my UW friend, Cara, were of quiet discovery and processing while I spent time reacquainting myself with her and her life. On my day on my own in San Francisco, I found an exhibit at the San Francisco Library on calligraphy where someone's finished project only brought more thought along with tears.
On Thursday, I arrived in Marina at Grandpa's house for family gathering the day before the viewing. Friday was the viewing of my grandpa, the first I'd seen of him since a month ago. To say it was hard to handle would be an understatement. If it weren't for my cousin Lindsay's boyfriend, Josh, who had become a good friend, I don't know I would've gotten through it. At the viewing, stories were told of Grandpa. I learned a great deal more than I known before.
I knew Grandpa was a veteran, but I did not know it was of World War II and the Korean War or that he was also a prisoner of war. I knew Grandpa was a community man and well loved by many, but I had not known how many lives he had touched and to what extent, both in the United States and the Philippines. I learned that his favorite song was My Way by Frank Sinatra and that he loved bowling, boxing, basketball and sports in general. I learned that he was strict, but a role model, that he was loving and all of his children and grandchildren were his favorite, and that for all of the trials and tribulations his children, my mom included, went through, he had raised five children on his own; he was a survivor, a charmer, a community leader, as well as was a snappy dresser.
I wasn't raised to be close to my extended family, on either side, so I was only getting to know Grandpa a little bit since his 90th birthday. He was 92 when he passed last weekend. I had seen him on his 92nd birthday, having driven down from Tacoma then. Grandpa was a man of few words to me. But he always had been that way since I could remember. I remember when I drove down the first time. Though I never finished writing part 2 of that time, I was very happy and very proud to show Grandpa my masters degree. I felt very proud to have accomplished it and he looked very happy to see one of his grandchildren with a graduate degree. That was one of my favorite moments that stuck. Later, Lindsay told me that he had talked about me to others. People had asked him who I was, to which he answered, "That is my grandson, he has a masters degree."
When I first went down to visit him for his 90th birthday, for the first time in nearly fifteen years, I compiled as many of the photos that everyone took onto a CD for him and anyone that asked because it was something that I could do. Grandpa slipped some cash into my hand, which I thought it was for the photo compilation. When I visited for his 92nd birthday, he did the same thing, which I thought was because I graduated from graduate school. Before I left yesterday from Grandpa's house, Grandma Aurora came to give me a hug and had some cash in hand, to which I said, "I'm ok, it's ok." She put it in my hand and broke down and cried, "Grandpa wanted to make sure you were ok." I cried again as I hugged my grandma and accepted Grandpa's last gift.
My grandpa was a great man to the United States, to his community and to his family; he was a loving grandfather who I wish I could have visited more often. For whatever and whoever he was to anyone else, he was and is my grandpa. I'm proud of his life that he lead and the legacies he left behind, in the military, in the church, in the bowling alley and the filipino community. Most of all, I am proud that was my grandpa. I know he loved me, my mom and my sister and all of our accomplishments.
That project I found in the calligraphy exhibit was a poem in a beautiful script:
The tide recedes but leaves bright seashells on the sand
The sun goes down but leaves its warmth upon the land
The music stops by lives on in sweet refrain
For everything that passes something beautiful remains
My grandpa is survived by his memories which will last on in his children and grandchildren, his community in both the Philippines and the United States, and Grandma Aurora, the most supporting and loving wife my grandpa could have asked for. I will still be able to learn about my grandpa and his life even while his spirit watches over my mother, my sister and I.
May you find the peace and contentment in the afterlife you had every time I saw you, Grandpa.
R.I.P. Martin P. Andora
October 15, 1916 - July 1, 2009