I Miss You Grandpa (1935-2018)

My grandpa laid in rest last March 31 of this year. I keep on hiding the pain but the more I hide it, the more I became exhausted. I thought that I can fool myself by posting happy blogs in my Steemit account but at the end of the day, I’m still lost. I am now writing to ease the heavy burden inside of me. I don’t even know if my grammars are right, my hands are just typing as my tears are rolling down. Why did go Lolo, why not when you are 90 or maybe 85? You left us at 82, why not three more years? Or even just one more year?

That was our last photo on New Year’s Eve as 2018 is approaching. We didn’t know that it will be our last New Year with you. I miss you so much, grandpa. I miss your touch, I miss your voice, I miss you watching “Ang Probinsyano” and “TV Patrol”, I miss you eating “chicharron”, I miss calling you “Lolo”, I miss your face, I miss getting mad when you are drinking because it’s bad for your health, and I miss everything about you.

Remember when you painted our window in green? We were worried because you are still painting while it’s raining. Papa doesn’t want it to change because it’s you who did it and your oxygen tank is still in your room. You left us in deep pain when you left. We love you so much. We are still not absorbing into our hearts that we can never hold you again and we can only see you in pictures and in our memories. We are not yet accepting everything that happened.

You are in and out of the hospital. Your medicines are too many that it can serve as a meal. We are hoping for your fast recovery. You are a fighter, we saw you fighting for your life, and we saw your will to live. You haven’t eaten for the past days. You even vomit for a single grape but you still try. When it’s time for your medicine intakes, you never vomit it, you really want to survive. You haven’t slept for the past days but you still able to fill up your favorite crosswords puzzle in the newspaper and we are keeping the last newspaper that you’ve read.

It keeps on flashing in my head the last day that I saw you alive, March 29. You are having a hard time to breathe. You are still vomiting and can’t walk either sit on your own. Grandma decided to put you a diaper so that you don’t have to go back and forth to the bathroom but a minute later, your feces are with blood. Grandma changed your diaper and you did it again, still with blood. We called for an ambulance and while we are waiting for it to come, I went to you.

I was caressing your arms and kissing your head many times wishing that it could help to ease your pain. I am scared Lolo, I am scared that it will be the last time that I can kiss you. Your body is so cold so I keep touching your skin hoping that the heat in my palm will transfer to you. I am holding my tears because I don’t want you to see me crying. You are lying in the bed as I’m whispering in your ears, “please fight Lolo.” Instead of saying a word, you just smiled at me. I kissed you again until the ambulance arrived.

March 31, Papa called us that you are gone. We waited until late afternoon, you came back home. You are sleeping peacefully in your new bed. I am looking through the glass and burst into tears. Did you hear what your grandchildren told you? We are telling you, “Lolo wake up.” We know it’s impossible but we are still trying. You were at home for a couple of days for a funeral service. We are still telling you, “Good morning and good night Lolo”, as if you can still hear us while we are looking you inside that piece of wood.

April 5, it’s your last day. We are all crying while we accompany you to your forever home. Your casket was opened and we are in front of you to say our last farewell. We hold your hand for the last time, it was cold. I saw grandma caressing your hair. The crying became louder as your casket is being closed. We gave you the white roses that we are holding as the soil is covering you. You will always have our hearts grandpa.

I am still sad, very sad until now. You are always alive in our mind and you are always alive each time we close our eyes. Don’t worry about us. Yes, we are still in pain but we will continue moving forward. Let us be hurt for a while, let us cry from time to time, let us feel the pain until it lessens. You will always be remembered, we love you Lolo.

(June 11, 1935 - March 31, 2018)