The Girl From Yesterday
So this Sunday, we’re having Mothers’ Day, give your mommas hugs and kisses- they need and want it. Enough about mothers… I don’t suggest to be callous about it (I love my mom and my aunts) but I just wanna blog particularly about my [mother-side] grandmother. Although she’s been dead… 14 years ago.
Of all her grandchildren, I was the youngest and because of that, the others would sometimes speculate that I was her favorite. Well, with my teeny-weeny wits that time, I do recall that I was her fave. That is because I lived in our family house and she had no choice but to hold me in her cradle.
You see, when my mom would go to work, I’d be left cuddling my Lola and squalling her if what time my mother would actually be home. I was with my Lola all-day and I never went out of the house, not playing outdoors with my cousins. But I found it alright. I didn’t find it boring. The strongest thing my memory could offer is that after lunch, we’d find ourselves napping on each of the sofas in our living room. And that’s it; I wish I could have some mega-memory to have recorded my other grand moments with my grandmother.
When she died in 1994, I was of no clue: I didn’t know that she was dead. After the burial I was brought to Manila for an unknown reason. I found it unfair: I was very very young when she went away to God. I didn’t even have this scenic “goodbye conversation” I often see in Filipino soap operas. I found no opportunity and time to weep for a loved one. She didn’t even know who my crush in Kindergarten was. And as I grew up, it has all become unreasonable for me. That tragic incident didn’t galvanize me with the “to-be-stronger” shit. I didn’t become strong or whatever. It’s all-unfair, is it not?
If my Lola were alive, she could’ve been proud over my few achievements. If she were alive, she could’ve stopped all these evil things coming out from me. She could’ve thought me some things apart from drawing and coloring. She could’ve been my subject of great literature and learning. But I know she’d had enough of the world. And living for eighty-something years gave her due.
Perhaps this is why I am more moved by old people who’re on the streets rubbing some ass to live. And that’s why I always drop by some coins and not feel any stinginess.
And to you out there with grannies who have been sitting on a couch, watching television all-day, discussing how times have changed or whatever, give ‘em a hug and tell ‘em how wonderful they are. I’ve never done that to my Lola.