Clavel

Dearest Lola,

You left us on a Thursday morning, not even daring to finish the entire week. Either way, no one will ever be ready for this, anyway.  We all agree that you have lived a good 83 years. You have incessantly went on to tell us how you were so tired already, despite being in a better condition than most people your age (or even the younger ones), and that the time for you to go was coming soon. And it did come. The news was sad, but it was a peaceful kind of sad. There is nothing left to do, but to accept it, because that’s just how life goes. You may be physically gone, but you have touched so many things in this world and left memories on them like fingerprints–so uniquely you–which will always remind me of you and the kind of life you have lived and shared with us.

I will always remember you through:

1. The the gates you wanted (which was only installed recently, but as what Lolo said, “kaso umalis ka na”);
2. The house in Diliman you used to tend to, and how being in it with your care always felt like coming home (even welcoming me on days when I didn’t feel like going home);
3. The faces of your children, and how cute it was for you to look like one specific child at certain points in your life;
4. Crochet work, which you said you could never do again because your hands could not anymore;
5. News clippings and brochures, which you absolutely loved collecting (I hoarded some brochures for you when I dropped by Starbucks; too bad I was not able to give it to you anymore);
6. Remembered calendar dates, because you absolutely remembered everyone’s birthdays (talo pa kaming gumagamit ng Facebook!)
7. The space behind our chairs, because you will no longer be there to listen to us as we talked about all sorts of things (you were always the listener and observer);
8. The sound of water from a hose, or of grasses being clipped;
9. Lists, because you loved taking notes of interesting things;
10. Maps, because you would sometimes bring out your huge book of maps and ask us to point to you where we have been to;
11. The blue cards in PGH, which I dropped by before attending classes on some occasions, because you refuse to line up at dawn for an 11 AM appointment (hehe);
12. Tanigue and the best lugaw we have ever tasted, because you always cooked that for us;
13. Those sudden awakenings at the wee hours of the morning, where you won’t be seen praying the rosary anymore;
14. The beautiful Filipiniana dress I wore to my induction and graduation, because that belonged to you;
15. The big letters children use to learn the alphabet, because you wrote on the same to learn how to write when you were a child (hanggang sa mapunit pa nga, sabi mo);
16. Kamoteng kahoy, because you always told us of how that was the food staple that kept you alive during the war (and speaking of the war, how you were always in hiding back then);
17. Cheese, because you never understood why we like it so much, and carrots, because you pronounce it as kerits;
18. Koreanovelas, because you loved K-dramas before it was even cool;
19. How my father scolds me at times, because he got the meticulosa trait from you (hehe); and
20. In carnations–our favorite flower and the meaning of your name.

They say the ones we love never truly leave us… Right now, I’m convinced. I wish I could have spent more time with you, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. There will now be a void that can never be filled because it was meant for you, but it’s okay. We will always regard it with remembrance and gratefulness because without you, we would never be here in the first place. I love you, Lola! Now it’s time for you to rest in peace.