There
are many locks in our grandparent’s house, a peculiar sight for me upon
our arrival here in Bicol. With so many chains, locks and keys of
different sizes and brand, I suspected it was more than just for
security reasons. And so it was. If my memory is not exaggerating, it
would take almost thirty minutes for lola to wring every chain and clasp
every lock than can and must be secured in the house. They had told me
it was to keep lolo from escaping at night for one of his sojourns.
While we tried to assure lola of no such thing, lolo, the main person
held back by these, quietly chuckled in the background and did not
object to such imprisonment. What he envisioned instead, as me and my
cousins listened to his dreams in the porch of a half-cemented house,
was to make lola his “doña.”
Today, these locks can no longer keep his soul in its earthly home.
Diri mi ika kaya pang biliwan, pero pagal ka naman palan!
It
was to be expected, but it could not lessen the pain. He has lived up
to the ripe old age of 87; but prior to his deteriorating health, he
still went about pursuing his passions. We knew him as the District
Commander of Region IV who tirelessly visited fellow veterans in the
far-flung places of Buhi, Bula, Daet, and so on. He was the ever
enthusiastic carpenter: renovating the house, putting up the dirty
kitchen, and fixing the roof was just some of his hobbies. Among his
prized possessions were his 50 hectares of land where coconuts, mangoes,
pilis and many other kinds of vegetation grew, possessions which he
repeatedly promised to us his descendents.
But the
most prized possession was no other than us; his children, his
grandchildren, his great grand children, his in-laws. Neither visitor
nor relative escaped his enthusiasm and pride in boasting how proud he
was of us. Our family, despite its closeness, also had its own share of
sorrows and conflicts. His temper never failed to flare in such
situations, but his heart easily melts away at the sight of all his
grandchildren gathered together. He could not help but smile at his rare
luck of even seeing his great grand children. His own eyes would get
teary seeing how much suffering we are going through and knowing not
what to do, given his old age. All he could promise then was “gigibuhan ‘ta iyan nin paagi.”
Now I can only wonder, how much did our own miseries hurt you?
You
were so worried sick for us, lo. Now that you are with our dear Lord,
we pray that he will assure you that we will get along just fine,
because there is no other way to survive this life but to live through
it all. And I’m sure He has more patience in listening to your stories
on farm life and the wars in Vietnam than anyone else on earth, even if
the conversation goes around in circles.
Don’t worry, lo, we’ll take care of lola for you. That way, you’ll still be able to keep your promise of making her your “doña.”
