I recently just got back from a two week stay in the Philippines. All of us in Richmond, Team Canada, we would say, went home not to mourn, but to celebrate, to remember the great life my grandfather lived and to be there for our family, especially our grandmother.
The morning of the 21st, my dad entered my room to tell me that my grandfather passed away. The night before I received news that he was in the ICU and was in critical condition. He has been in and out of the hospital but never in those months have I experienced such anxiety until that evening. But I didn't mind it. I still felt confident that he was going to recover, but I cannot say I didn't see it coming. We had to go home - there was no question. Monday evening, I did.
When you are burdened with extreme emotions, your body seems to just let loose and not care at all. That was what happened when I first came to the wake. I was greeted by relatives but it was when I saw my grandmother when I burst out crying. Even now that it has been 2 weeks, I can still feel how emotional that moment was. During that time, my mind only thought two things: "Someone tell me this isn't real" and "Lola, I'm here". I won't go into full details about what happened the days after, but the last mass was the worst. When the mass had finally ended, the family was called up for the final blessing. We were about 20. We were all just standing there, crying, holding each other.. It may not be right to say this about what had taken place but I felt that the whole family was just united, and it was beautiful. And if my Lolo were alive then and if we weren't crying, he would have been really happy seeing us all together.
It was difficult. I cannot even put into words how difficult it was for all of us. Even the happiest people have their down days. And when the happiest of them all goes to rest, his children struggle to smile to carry on his legacy. My grandfather was a great man.
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| Lola's 75th Birthday (2007) |
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April 2012 |
Sometimes I still find it hard to believe he's actually gone.
My grandfather who had the nicest smile, the wittiest jokes, the sweetest endearments
My grandfather of 84 who I had just talked to on the phone a month before
My grandfather whose love for my grandmother surpasses no other love
My grandfather who I was very, very proud to have
My grandfather who was Santa Claus every Christmas
My grandfather who I could see through my bedroom window,
sitting in his chair, scribbling away every night for 18 years
My grandfather who was the best man I have ever known
My grandfather whose greatness cannot be expressed enough by words
My grandfather, my grandfather
..has moved on to the next life.
But then again, he's not dead..
..cause legends never die.
But then again, he's not dead..
..cause legends never die.
While I was on the plane ride back to the Philippines, this came on the radio. The person sitting beside me must have wondered why I was silently blubbering by the window.
Not the most articulate entry ever, and I know it's all over the place; but I think you know where I am going with this. People like me find it hard to write in only two situations: when you have no care about the subject at all, and when the subject, the person you are writing about means only so much to you.
