For Flaviana

Family is one of the most important things we have in our lifetime. Our families are never perfect, they are not absolute, but we never ask them to be. We accept them as they are. We love our siblings, our parents, our cousins, our grandparents, our uncles and aunts because of the basic reason that we are bound by the same bloodline. Our genetic traits along with other aspects of our being make up who we are as persons. Because of that we see some parts of our self in them, and I’m sure they also see it in us. It is not only in the aspect of appearance, but in the aspects of bizarre mannerisms, strange appreciation of a certain humor, and the traditions we practice that can only be understood by members of the family.

My paternal grandmother died on New Year’s Day. We cry for the loss, but we mostly celebrate her life. She didn’t have plaques and achievements, nor any monuments to her name. Her love was enough. She was a plain and simple housewife, bore 8 children who became professionals, and loved the best way she could. She rode horseback without a saddle and could talk as brash as the rest of them. Born during the American occupation, she has lived through the second world war, she experience hardships and triumphs, and probably had quite a life. She was many things to other people, but to me she was a grandmother. Like most grandmothers, she told us stories of the past and what life was like that never failed to make us wonder. 

On her last days, she had become bed-ridden, weak and vulnerable due to old age and diabetes. Gone was the strong and imposing stature of a beloved matriarch. After the pain killers and medications have done their job, all we could do for her was pray. Prayers of thanksgiving, of mercy, and of strength. And I understood what it meant to pray. It is not some magical arrangement of words to conjure miracles at our will. It’s about being humble and grateful at the same time, about accepting the things we cannot change, and a belief in a Being greater than ourselves. It’s not even about being demurely holy. Say what you want about religion and the radicals and the eccentricities of faith, but Spirituality by far transcends all that and its truth can only be revealed when we are near the end.

I’m going to miss her singing - she really loved to sing. Also, no one could compare with the way she prepares sikwate (hot chocolate). I’m going to miss the little things.

I did not write this to bear a sad note for the new year; as I’ve said this a celebration of my Lola’s life.

Here’s to celebrating life and to celebrating family!

3rd of January, 2012

St. James Chapel

SPMC, Cebu City