Tuesday, January 26, 2010


It was my lola's burial at around 11am this morning. My lolo delivered the most touching, heartbreaking eulogy I have ever encountered. My dad had no words. The day was full of I love yous more than goodbyes.

I wish I could share with you the brief words my lolo said.

I am very hesitant about blogging this kasi ang OA na. Ang OA ko na. I don't want to act like I'm okay anymore, because in the end, umiiyak lang din ako. In RG/Mon's words: "Okay lang umiyak."

And besides, I want to acknowledge my love for you in all possible ways.

Lola Erly, my lola's only left sibling was with me when they were lowering my lola's coffin and we uttered the same word simultaneously amid tears. "lola/vicky, i love you".

Did you know that all the posh bags you see me toting around school has never been of my own selection. My lola had great taste.

Eulogy: (I only read the half part.)

There is no single memory that comes to mind when I think of Lola Vicky. Nor a single characteristic.

It's a jumble of descriptions and recalls.

She's the only one who can make lolo behave and sit down (albeit, he'd still be shuffling and fidgeting.) She likes jewelry and is a woman of good taste. She shops in bulk. She likes red lipstick. She taught me how to make grilled cheese. She's got a little high pitched girly voice. She likes pink, and one time in 200.... i can't remember, we spent the whole day shopping and she got me everything in pink (despite my tendency to hate baby pink). She is extremely organized and (inhumanely) sentimental, keeping tidbits from everywhere she went to and every high moment of her life. Every.

She wouldn't let Papa go to EDSA revolution when he was my age. He still went to EDSA. And when he got home, he never heard the end of it.

My other recollections of her are those of when I was too little to actually appreciate, but no one can blame anyone for being a kid.

(but oddly, I can still remember. Possibly twelve years ago, she made this mean fried chicken, which I labeled in my mind the meanest fried chicken in the world, but she had to go back to the states. Years and years after, and many other meanest fried chicken in the world has passed, she never cooked for me again, I don't really know why.)

I don't know where she got all her love for us from. Is it from the three-minute a week conversation, the thought of little girls playing when she gets us barbies and chips ahoys, or maybe just the fact that we are her grandchildren... and we all know how grandparents are, by law of nature, in love with their grandchildren.

For a week (until present, maybe), I don't believe my mind actually comprehended that my lola has passed away.
a. She's going to get a unit at mezza with my lolo and live off the yeasre and years worth of US Citizen benefits they worked hard for.
b. We've yet to conquer the world of Divisoria together.

(Why can't you just be a BIT sick. Something like myself and my back problem, or lolo and his diabetes, of my sister's incurable succumbing to pretty clothes.)

Yes, I have to be contented with 20 years of knowing her and merely several years of actually getting to know her. (So, sorry I'm complaining.) ( But where did "everything will be fine" go?)

Lola Vicky is a beautiful woman, inside and out. She is humble and sweet. And she loved all of us dearly. That we have lost her, their must be a reason, but all that matters is we loved her very much. She enjoyed her 64 years (despite wanting to have done more) with her family and friends.

Thank you for being a wonderful part of my life all these years.

Lola Vicky will always be in our hearts as we are in hers.