farewell...

This month's a wicked one. As in, malupit. Mahapdi. Masakit.
Brutal.

A week before, our beloved grandma Lola Merced was laid to her final resting place in our province. She's the last of our elders in our struggling clan, and dying at an old age of 89, I wonder myself if I could ever reach that age when technology, society, and humanity in this generation could backfire anytime, anywhere. It's never been easy when someone's gone in this mortal world, even harder when that person is important---the very reason of your existence.

Prior to her departure, I was actually eager to return to Manila and finish this ultimate but super-secret mission that I planned for a girl. But since we are living in this undpredictable world, I can only imagine my late granny as if reminding me that I needed to re-schedule my trip. She reminded me that someone's also needing my attention and concern before I return to the Human Zoo called Metro Manila. Still, I can proudly say that I sincerely responded to the consequence no matter how simple and late it was. With all the headaches of assisting and contributing for a series of days until the burial, including a lot of prayers plus concerns and the hiding of differences and burying of issues with relatives, I became oblivious again to Valentine's Day upon my return to the city. I decided not to pursue my plans since I lost my energy to do it for someone who has a better life without me . Still, I cannot blame her. I checked myself again and realized that I've done enough. I just want to do something that is more important right now.

I keep on reminding myself that perhaps, this is NOT the right time for me to pursue somebody. Maybe, I am just NOT the rightful one for her. Maybe, some other lonely soul that I rightfully deserve is out there waiting for me, God only knows. And as I saw my last post, I became a stranger. This is what February is all about to me this year. A month for a piece of junk called poetry. Nothing more, nothing less. The battle has not yet started but the casualty is here. Truly, I'm always ready to loose. Handang mabigo. The sooner I accept defeat, the earlier I would be able to recover...

The last time that I visited Lola Merced in the barrio and saw her alive was during the final week of October last year. That would also be the last time for me to feel her rough, aging, but gentle hands, see her face and tears in her eyes, and re-learn what education is all about. For Lola Merced who was not able to go through school (just like the rest of my departed grannies in Ureta and Salazar side), seeing her grandson finishing college is enough. Education is always a key for survival and it's never easy to be poor, she said. Though it's too personal for me to reveal here our long emotional talk, I can say that it was more than enough to motivate me to move on with my simple life. I really got what I needed most during that visit, and I will surely tell my future children and grandchildren (if God allows) what Lola Merced told me.

She kept on holding my hands that day, grasping and clinging as if not wanting to let go, and her hearing was surprisingly sharp-- making me not to heed my father's hint to speak loudly to her. Maybe because the place was very silent and peaceful even if the Aklan river is just meters away from the lawn. Outside the Nipa Hut, I could sense my father listening to us. But hearing Lola Merced say "In-dyi-nir?" in her own tongue with a curious look towards me is enough to pierce my shallow heart and make me feel stronger at the same time. I lost for words at that moment, tried to divert my thoughts and looked at the trees outside, fearful that there is a tear in my eye. I wanted to explain to her what an Engineer means in a Third World, but no word came out of my mouth. I could only check her failing eyesight some moments later and ask her if she can still see me. She answered that her vision of me is a shadow and a blurred image. I know I am not her paboritong apo, but somehow she can still recognize a face, a face that belongs to her kindred. Sadly, I wasn't able to ask her more important questions like what is the real love, or what Life really is all about. Maybe she knows a thing or two. Now I know I have to find the answers by myself.

Lola's final message to me is to remain a good boy, as me and my father bid farewell to her that day; "Magpakabuot ka guid 'to," she said.
I readily and jokingly answered; "Syempre 'la... ako pa!!"
And that was it.

At this point, I just realized something. This month ain't that wicked at all. It wasn't malupit, mahapdi, nor masakit.
Nope, not really brutal.

It was simply meaningful.



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