Love your grandparents, love your parents, love everyone
When I was just a kid, my grandmother made sure that I always received the praise I deserved. Even when I felt like I didn’t deserve it. I was spoiled rotten under her love and care. I was branded as the favorite grandchild out of the 8 grandchildren my grandparents have. My grandmother would talk about me to everyone she knew. She’d talk about my studies or whatever prestigious Catholic school I was attending at the time, and I didn’t mind it not a single bit. There would be times when I wished I wasn’t the favorite. I always felt that my other cousins used to single me out because of it.
I wasn’t a perfect grandchild, I rarely remember to say “po” or “opo” and I was never the one to initiate the “mano”. But I was considered as the smartest among my cousins. Sometimes I’d wish I was just an average kid, it was always my greatest fear to disappoint my grandmother.
My family isn’t that rich, my grandmother still works at her furniture business just to make sure there’s food on the table. My family’s problematic, like average family drama. Money problems, health problems, drama. But still my grandmother persevered even if she could’ve been resting ten years ago. She’s a great mother too. Being the mother of my mother, I’m pretty sure of it.
Question: How do you expect your grandparents’ death? You shouldn’t expect it but I think we all have similar ideas or situations in mind. Old age. Disease that slowly takes you away. Ten, twenty, thirty, forty years from now? I used to think the exact same thing too. I’d watch my grandparents wither away as I grew older. But that didn’t happen.
My uncle got really sick one time and hospital bills were usually expensive as fuck, so naturally my grandmother was working. My grandmother got into a car accident because the driver, who was also my uncle’s caretaker in the hospital, fell asleep. I found out about it at school, my dad called me with voice cracks and all. Just like that my grandmother was gone. It still feels weird to think that. It happened way too quickly.
She’s been gone for a couple of months now but I still don’t know how to feel.
I want to be angry because life was so unfair. Why did it have to be my grandmother? Why the fuck did the driver fall asleep? Why couldn’t I do anything about anything? My grandmother only helped others and yet she to die such a painful and rushed death. People even took photos of the incident and I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so infuriating.
I want to be sad. My grandmother and the rest of my family lived in the province. When I started high school I rarely got to see her. I always wished I got to spend more time with her. I wish I knew about it so I could steal at least one last hug. Hugs that only warm and loving grandmothers could give.
I want to be happy. I’m confident that my grandmother is resting up there, finally. She’ll never get to see me graduate high school, or get married but I know she’s still watching over all of us from a higher view.
And for a while, I wanted to be gone. But I don’t think she’d like that.
I wonder if she still talks about me. My queen. I love you and thanks for everything. You’re always in my heart, I’m lucky to be your granddaughter. I’ll see you in my dreams.
Please love everyone, you’ll never know what’ll happen in the next five minutes. And please pray for my grandfather, I can’t even begin to imagine the pain he’s going through.
For MB (10.15.49-06.15.16)