The month of May begun tough not only for me but for the whole family, as Nanay (my grandmother) passed away last May 6. I was asleep after coming home from a 19-hour overtime work when one of my aunts woke me up. (Disclaimer: no one forced me to stay in the office, it was all my decision to finish my Powerpoint report because I couldn’t focus working at home. In fact, night-shift officemates scolded me for over staying.) Her weeping news didn’t convince me at first. It felt dreamy. Lying on the bed, none of my muscles moved except staring at the ceiling, waiting that I would wake up for the next few seconds. But I was already awake. The next who came in were my parents, crying as well. It didn’t sink just yet, though I had to force my body to get up and face how reality will eat my joy.
I saw the fragile figure that I used to carry from bed to transfer to her favorite chair. I watched her chest, hoping she would take another breathe while asleep… but she never moved anymore. I reached for her hand, the same warm hand that I had felt when her blood was still running through her veins. Then I remember how we hold each other’s hands before she would fall asleep. She was supposed to hold my fingers. The rest became pitch black and rainfall.
Hello Nanay, I wish you'd reunite with Tatay and Tita wherever you are, as well as laugh again while having chikahan with Tita Ophel and your other friends over cups of juice and fluffy mamon. I will miss you and our one-on-one in our dining table. Your tales about your childhood in Boac have always fascinated me and I found your dislike on eating chicken hilarious because I love fried chicken（；^ω^） When you couldn't even sit up by your own anymore, there was a time you compared our hands; you commented mine looked smooth and young while yours turned flaky and old. I thought, well maybe someday my hands will turn old, but not as warm as yours as my hands always felt cold, and these cold hands will always remember the warmth of your calloused hands even when you didn't wake up anymore. I want you to know that now you slipped away, we will try our hardest to make every christmas, every of your birthday would fill our home with love and happiness (though it will never be the same.) Your kawaii af grand daughter, Twinkle, won't forget the priceless love you've poured to her. (•ө•)♡
From Nanay’s death, it took 9 days before the celebration of Mother’s Day. On the same day, we visited Nanay’s grave in a cemetery.
L: Nanay and me R: Mommy and me
I’m currently in the process of moving on and perhaps one day I’d learn how not to yearn “mano po” anymore when I arrive home.
Still, I had to show my mommy that I’m strong like her. That we could celebrate Mother’s Day even if our Nanay have passed away.
When me and Rom were little, daddy had to work abroad to support our daily financial needs; that’s why most of the time mommy spent taking care of us by herself (and sometimes with the help of family members.) The busy mommy never skipped loving the younger me who was already occupied with her otaku wants and the younger Rom who used to frequently acquire a fever.
Writing these feelings is one thing that heals me
and btw I’m the kind of person who gets easily embarassed by saying actual words face-to-face lol. I’ve been writing mommy a letter every year since I was a child. And I won’t get tired of saying, thanks for all the love I received, not only from mommy but from Nanay as well.
It “heals” me in a way I could convey my feelings through writing and drawing at the same time on a blank canvas. It teaches me patience and temporarily makes me forget I am sad.