The last 6 months have been especially trying for our family. But that has come to an end. Last June 17, 2012, my beloved grandmother, my Lola, died peacefully and quietly, as if just falling asleep, just as she had always wanted it. We may have not been at her bedside when it happened, like how TV shows would always (dramatically) portray, but we were all at home.
Lola has been part of my life from the very beginning. You could probably say I’m a “Lola’s boy”, a moniker that may have negative connotations, but one that I proudly wear. Was I spoiled by her? Probably. But I definitely received my share of Lola’s brand of discipline. In some cases, I might have received even more. Almost up to the end, I was probably still a child in her eyes, not allowed to be out late at night. And by late, I mean past 7:00 p.m. It was embarrassing at times, but, in some ways, it was her way of saying how much she cared and worried about me, and how much she needed and wanted me to be near her. When I was a very child, the situation was probably reversed. I always wanted to be with her. I remember when I was around 6 she had to go to the U.S. to be with my aunts, uncles, and cousins. I cried a lot when she left, like she wasn’t going to come back (she did after a month or so I think). Now she has left again, and I know she will never come back this time.
My relationship with Lola wasn’t always peachy. At some points, it was almost too painful to bear. There were times when we wouldn’t even talk to each other for days. But eventually everything goes back to normal. Who gave in first? I can’t really remember. I guess it didn’t matter in the end. I guess you could call it true love. I remember some quotes saying “Love is what remains when all the feelings are gone” and that “Love isn’t an emotion. It’s a decision. It is something you do.” And that is exactly what I did. For almsot 7 years. I used to say, in the heat of anger, that those were 7 years I would never be able to take back. I look back now and I can say that those are 7 years filled with memories and love. Memories both good and bad. Memories both infuriating and hilarious. I have a lot of those. I may have even forgotten some. I will all treasure them.
The last two weeks of her life really tested us all. But I can only imagine how worse it was for her. Lola has always been a strong and proud woman. She was a fighter (not literally). And she was used to getting what she wanted. But as her health deteriorated, it became impossible for her to do what she still wanted. But she still fought, even to the end. Well, almost to the end. Her health rapidly declined and she could barely speak. But I will forever treasure the fact I was the last person she called. My name was the last word she ever spoke the night before she died. They say it was a testament of how special I was to her, of how much she loved me. I lover her very much too.
Now I spend my days alone at home. No more calling of my name. No more ringing of her bell. Just the silence. I try to go out once in a while, to try to shake my mind off things. But sometimes, even the smallest thing brings back memories of her. The donuts I used to bring home to her. The stuff I would usually buy for her. The candies she likes. The soda she would treat as water. And when I get back home, the closed door to her room would always remind me of the person who is no longer there, of my Lola who has gone and will never come back.
There is an emptiness in my heart that I know will never filled, that life will never be the same again. But if there’s one thing I have learned from Lola is that one must always stand up and fight. So I have to carry on, to finally live my own life. But I will always remember her. The small lady that could command even bishops and people in authority. The woman who never backed down from what she believed in. I will remember the lessons, the memories, and even the fights. But most of all, I will remember the love.
I love you Lola and I miss you so much!
