To a young girl her father is a giant. A hero in every matter. At least to me mine was. I was and still am proud of my Dad. But the fast pace of life and the demanding demeanor of work required him to be away from me most of my childhood years. With this my grandfather stepped in.
My Lolo was dark and handsome. He wasn't tall but to me he was as big and sturdy as a tree. When I was a baby at night he would take me out of the confines of our home and show me off to the drinking men. He would boast of my beauty and wonder. Around 2 years old my mother got in an accident and had to stop my breast feeding abruptly. My grandfather was the one who desperately tried everything he can to calm me down and comfort me. He even played along with us and acted like he was our doll when he was tasked to look after me and my sisters. We used to play basketball in his yard. Often he would give me toys he found from nowhere I could imagine - balls, a top, even a dart board. He influenced me so much that I developed an early interest in cars and motor vehicles - just because he loved riding his bike. Most of the time we would just sit in front of the tv and watch snooker, poker, billiards, basketball, boxing, western and action films and even the x-games. I can still remember his petty little arguments with Lola on who left the faucet open or which piece of fish should I have. My sisters and I used to tease him to "kiss Lola" and he would always do. Prompting Lola to say "nauto ka naman." Going to school and passing their house I would see his shirtless silhouette on the roof with the dog just like tarzan. I give him a toothbrush every year on his birthday because it was the only way to get him to retire the old one. Even though he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's he never forgot the date of my birth, I often boasted of that.
That was my Lolo, ever so gentle and sweet. He taught me to be giving and helpful and to love people even though they're flawed. He was always proud of me regardless of my decisions and of what my grades said.
The disease slowly took him and his will. He became bed ridden and it was the hardest thing for me to see. The girl who was always around her grandparents' house was suddenly nowhere near the place. Of all his grandchildren I was the closest to him. His body was deteriorating but he still looked at me with eagerness and joy in his eyes. It was unbearable, I couldn't let him or anyone see me cry. He hated seeing me cry even as a child. He passed away on a Tuesday night. Upon hearing the news I was devastated and stared blankly at the floor for 10-15 minutes.
I didn't lose a father but I lost the one who harbored me for years. I may not know how hard it is on someone to lose a dad but I know how it feels to stand and watch someone you know close to a dad deteriorate and die.
My darkest days were the ones right after his death. I've gone cold and lost touch with the world. I had nothing and I was nothing.
Faith pulled me out of the dark. Faith and belief that there is something more to life. Faith that things will get better. Faith that I am not alone even if it appears to be. Faith that can move mountains or even emotions. Faith that tomorrow will be different. Faith - a beautiful thing to hold on to.
The father is considered the pillar of a home. If he dies the home he built should be able to withstand great gusts of wind and turmoil. My Lolo is most definitely missed. I still buy him a toothbrush every year on his birthday and I still play his gentle voice in my head time to time so that I would never forget but I know I still have more chapters in life.
Lo, Chapter! :D
you put tears in my eyes Steph...
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