You were the family matriarch - tough but emphatic, passionate but sometimes snotty, serious but loving. The last time I saw you was Christmas last year. It had already been three years since you were diagnosed and you were already undergoing weekly treatments. I saw your transformation - you were struggling to survive for love. Unfortunately, it was your time to move on.
I am supposedly the favorite grandson (?) so a cameo was expected at the wake. I never liked family gatherings - I am not really a strong family person. I hate the way they regarded me as the bright young boy who is destined to be successful. I hate the charade for nobody in my family knows me and my story. They have no idea how broken this young boy has been and what I have gone through. If only they had a clue.
At the wake, I secretly grieved for my lola's demise - the tough lady who would bring me to school whenever my mom would have her usual tantrums; the strong woman who scolded everyone but me; the admirable mother to her eleven children and dozens of grandchildren. I secretly cried at the sight of my lolo who remained strong amidst the tragedy. He is a strong man, quite impressive for someone who has almost lost control of his knees and hearing. I secretly weeped at the sight of grieving family, all pretending to be stronger than who they really are. If only showing emotions is not taboo in our family, I would have wept at the sight of the box. If only.
Today, I saw how much my lolo loved my lola. I saw how my family can be a whole unit during times of crisis. I saw how my own immediate family could be there for each other, even without publicly displaying emotions. I was witness to firsthand love no other person in this world could offer - no one but family.
To my lola, may you rest in peace. You have done well and you have raised wonderful kids and successful grandchildren. You will most definitely be missed but you are free now. You are finally home.
0 stamps:
Post a Comment