a click for my thoughts

(Drafted on June 2008, and finished on October 31, 2008)

With my aunt and lots of people I know of passing away just within a year, the reality of life’s fragility hits closer and closer to home. Listening to the tribute each family member give about their loved-ones made me ponder how wonderful it is if these people, whose life their family paid tribute to, will hear them while they can feel and know how much they have been appreciated and loved by their family, relatives, and close friends that are dear to them. I like what my relatives did when Kaka Yodie, as we fondly referred to and called her, was awfully sick. They paid her tribute while she was still alive. And I think that is when it matters the most. While it is true we do say these kind words about a friend or a love one who passed away to comfort the grieving family, wouldn’t it be so much nicer to know those words are heard by the very person we acknowledge? While there are birthdays, Mothers’ Day, Father’s Day, Anniversaries, and other occasions to celebrate these wonderful people we love, sometimes there’s nothing like the sincerity of saying those loving words without the occasion to cheapen the gesture. So, I thought it would be a good tradition to have in the family to appreciate one another apart from the usual occasion of celebration—letting the people we hold dear know that we love and appreciate them because we really do, regardless if there is a special occasion or not. On that note, let me start with my grandmother.

Lola, that’s how most of the grandchildren call her, is the glue that holds the Adap clan together. If we are a solar system she is the sun. She is in the center, around which our reunions, gatherings, major familial decisions revolve. She is the matriarch, a pillar of our family values and traditions, and the fountainhead of the legacy we carry.

Lola, in her own modest way, adored Lolo, my grandfather (who now is deceased). Their love is evident from the 11 children they bore and their fidelity for each other—only death parted them from each other. My Lola supported my Lolo like any dutiful wife would have done. From household responsibilities to rearing their children, she was always by his side. She cared for him lovingly and without reservation. And she, in return, had my Lolo’s respect and admiration.

Lola is the great mother to her children. Her children’s words testify to that fact. They look back and pay homage to her loving support. Her children praises her for what she’s done for them, for what she is, for who she is, and for what she believes in—she believes in the only one true God. She rejoices with them in their triumphs and accomplishments. When they hurt, she hurts for and with them. And even in her feeble condition, she never fails to care for them even in the simplest way—uplift their concerns up to God. And because of her love for them, they will forever recount her goodness; not just because she is their mother, but also because she is loved by them.

Lola is an endearing grandmother to her grandchildren, and many can recount wonderful memories of her impression in their childhood. I know for a fact that she adores each one of them…each one of us. She keeps pictures of her children and grandchildren and would put up the latest photos on her closet and mirror. She would marvel at how we have gotten big and mature and lovely, to which sometimes she would add a playful remark or question that holds a response that would give credit to her looks as well.

I remember her looking at me like a designer examining her design, and telling me how much I have grown into a beautiful young woman. She said, “Ay, kayganda mo na. Sabi nila sa akin ka raw nakamukha.” (“You are now so beautiful. They said you take after me.”)

She also loves to give. She would receive packs of snacks, sweets, and even fruits for her consumption, yet even though her children and her grandchildren received a share of their own, she would go around and give a handful or a piece to everyone. And when she’s sure everyone has received from her, she either saves whatever remains for another future round of ‘handful’ serving or opens it for those who want seconds.

Lola delights in being included in her grandchildren’s successes. She likes to attend graduations, recitals, and performances. And she relish at the thought that we are well on our way in accomplishing our goals. And for those who are of age, she likes to meet and get to know the people we date, or plan to marry. She would ask, “Would I even meet your boyfriend?” or “When would you introduce your girlfriend to me?” or “When will you ever introduce someone to me?”

Lola is a soldier, someone who keeps pushing through despite of difficulty; someone who persistently survives through challenge—a warrior. And she’s a tough one. She has lived almost a century and weathered storms of poverty, sickness, pain, and even loss. And yet, she continues to lift her banner for her Master and remains to lean in faith. Her hope in God is a crest she bears that will forever be etched on her armor, never to fade.

Yes, she is old. She may be old to take care of herself or anyone. But she will never be old enough to love and be loved. She will never be old enough to be put aside and neglected. She will never be old enough for her company and presence not to be missed by the fruits of her life—her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. And as long as God graciously grants her breath, she is never too old to live. Whoever thinks otherwise neither truly cares nor truly loves.

PS: I realized it’s her birthday tomorrow, but I didn’t intend this for her birthday (tho’ i wish her a happy birthday). It just happened that I finished writing this today.

~ by klengsfile on October 31, 2008.