Papalapit na ang death anniversary ng lola ko. Hindi ko ata nablog yun nung nangyari un...

*flashback sequence*

It was December 9, Friday. It was late, my grandmother was nowhere to be found, but no one in the house was worried. She's done this before. She'd turn up in the morning.

*The phone rings*

My aunt is on the line. She tells my dad that people found my lola at the side of Roxas Blvd. She was unconscious, but she wasn't dead, and she was at the intensive care unit.

I remember that when I heard intensive care unit, my knees went weak and my hands went cold. People come into the ICU, most don't come out...

My dad left us but reminded us to go to sleep early. We all went to bed right away, but I doubt that anyone in the house managed to sleep.

Morning came. Saturday, December 10. We had to be somewhere, but my dad couldn't drive us. He had to be... somewhere else. Us kids had no idea where.

My mom was quiet. More quiet than usual. I sat there in the car, while my brother went to get us a couple of sodas.

She's dead. she told me.

I know. I said.

And I did know. I just didn't know how.

It was then that she told me to type up in my phone a message for my parent's friends, informing them of what happened. My mom didn't know what to type up, neither did I, but we managed.

I remember trying to hold back the tears. I shaking my head and telling myself it was all a bad dream... It was an hour later that we got to my grandma's wake and I knew that it was all real.

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We stood there, in front of the casket. I looked at her...

This couldn't be her. She'd be happy, she'd be smiling. And she'd be rosy. She'd have her hair in a bun. She'd be in her colorful house dress. My grandmother wouldn't have blank expression. She wouldn't be pale. She wouldn't let her hair down. She wouldn't wear white if her life depended on it. This couldn't be her.

I looked at her again.

It is her.

My brother looked at me and said Tulog lang siya. Gigising na yan mamaya. I shook my head.

If my heart could have been broken into more pieces, it happened at that moment.

We sat down. We were all so vulnerable, so weak. We lost her. We lost the life of the house.

My brother looked our faces and must have realised the gravity of the matter. She isn't sleeping, he must've thought.

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My mom and dad left us at the wake. They had to be somewhere else, but we had to stay there. Just in case some people came...

Around half an hour after my parents left, my brother came up to casket and said Lola, gising ka na...

Lola, gising ka na...

His voice was quivering. My hands were shaking and my eyes were filling up with tears. My brother didn't understand. Neither did I, but I have to pretend that I did. I'm the eldest. One of the kids had to be the strong one.

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I miss my lola. Especially now that I'm sick. Among all my family members, she's the nicest one when I'm sick. She'd give me massages, heat up tea for me and check up on me every hour.

She didn't even see me graduate from high school... She would have been so proud of me. She didn't go to school, you see... She was born during the war. There was no time for school.

Anyway, I heard her laughing a couple of days back. I didn't see her, but I know she was here...
kitten posted @ 9:09 AM