Sunday, September 2, 2012

A Life of Love: My Eulogy for my Lola Esing


lola esing

Death is never a matter of if. It is always a question of when.

That has been one of my most frequent lines at what I do. Working in an industry where death is mentioned almost as naturally as breathing, and having the experience of having lost a father at a young age, I never thought that making this as what others may call a eulogy (honestly, I prefer this to be a love letter), would be so taxing --  draining.

But here I am speaking in behalf of all the apos that Lola Esing has always loved. Not knowing if I’ll ever say or remember the right things.

We all know how and why you passed. It was bone cancer. We all know that. I was in Cotabato, heading to the airport when I called mommy after seeing that I had quite a few missed calls from her. Daryll answered, he paused, and told me you have passed at 9:10 in the morning. It was blunt, it was clear, it was concise, but it was not real. I have prepared myself for this day from the moment we knew. But nothing could have prepared me, us, than those clear, sharp words “Nag-pass away na si Lola.”

I could only imagine how it was for mommy and the rest of my aunts and uncles, of course, who have been there to take care of Lola from the very beginning. Mommy has also been strong for all of us. I know a few of her decisions are not popular to all of us, but she has done what is best. And that alone is enough for me to say thank you for taking care of our Lola the very best possible way. She was even the one who finally told Lola about her condition, Ma, thank you – for being the courage FOR us.


I remember calling her to ask how she was and she told me about giving in to some of the well-intentioned friends of Lola. Forgive me if I might offend some of the traditional beliefs but I was literally laughing out loud when mommy told me that once, they went around the house with a faith healer and spread salt around the perimeter of the house to fend off the bad spirits that was purportedly causing Lola harm. It ultimately ended at the tree in front of the house where the faith healer started murmuring some prayers while the rest sprinkle salt on the ground.

As funny as it was, at least for me, it only goes to show how Lola is loved in our home.  Sometimes, we do things what for us might seem silly but we do it still. Not because we want to prove something, but because our love is bigger than what we usually do, what we usually know, and how we usually perceive things to be. I’m sure all of us will agree that Lola deserves that kind of love.

As much as we hold Lola dear to our hearts, she was also a woman who loves. Her love to my Lolo is a testament to that. Up until one of the last moments we talked to her on the eve of mother’s day, she fondly recalls how she found Lolo to be so gwapo and strong and generous and loving that ultimately made her fall for him, eventually marry him, and ultimately have six children with him. When Lolo died two decades ago in 1992, she told us that the way she deals with the loss is “Iniisip ko na lang nasa Cebu ang Lolo niyo at babalik siya soon.” And I think, for 20 years, that’s what she keeps on thinking – that’s what she does to keep her love alive. That’s how much she loves Lolo.

She also loved her children, as what mommy has shared.

Grandparents are also known to be very loving of their grandchildren – maybe sometimes, up to a point of spoiling them. Lola, of course, is no different. She loved all of us and we all loved her back. I still vividly remember, back in our home in Manila, she would gush when my sister Janna would perform one of her Little Miss Philippines number. Or how she had gone on and on when Phoebe became Little Miss Shakey’s – Subic. Or when, just recently, she was smiling from ear to ear proclaiming Ryu as being so handsome while we were Skyping with him from Japan. Or how she was so determined that Sophia will be a musical prodigy one day – a genius, even. And oh, how she smiled and felt so elated when Enzo recited a poem for her on her 75th birthday. 

I’ve had my share with her, too. When I was younger, for some reason, I had this penchant for gathering all the santo’s in our house, putting them on a table and performing the mass with candies as hosts and her being my one-woman congregation.

I was also in the fourth grade when I got some form of recognition and received a certificate or a medal from school. I actually forgot what the recognition was for, but here’s what I remember: Lola sent a card after that with P3,500 enclosed as a gift. My mommy used the money to buy me a second hand study table. Eighteen years later, I still have it with me.

For two or three years now, I was lucky to have come home for Christmas, her birthdays, and in between those occasions to see her. I always loved seeing her kasi lagi niya kong sinasabihan ng “Ang haba haba mo na“ in Bisaya, ang laki laki ko na raw. Or my favorite, “Ay ka-gwapo sa akong apo oi!” I don’t know if that’s her being honest, her cataract before, or her meds lately. =) I’d like to believe it’s the former. She was always generous with good words and lavish with her praises, especially with her apo. 

Generous. I guess if there is some form of Top Ten Words to describe Lola, that word will be in the upper list. In a lot of ways, we have all experienced her generosity. And in a lot of ways, as well, that generosity I believe stems from love. She just. Loved. Everybody. Sometimes, a little too much that she forgets about herself in the process.


One can also say a lot about Lola’s humor. There was one day she sat me down and told me in a grandmotherly way to study hard. Studying hard, she said, will allow me to go into a nice college and land a nice job. And once I get a nice job, she said, “Sa una among sweldo, ibili mo ako ng TV. Kasi hindi ako makanood ng TV sa kanila pinsan mo eh.”            

And just recently, after a long travel from Cebu, she told us how the trip went really sour. We were talking about it on the dinner table. Lola was sitting right in front of me and suddenly quipped: “Ay! Baling layu-a! Iinit pa kayo! Kapoy! I was smiling when she was talking because we all know how she is when she is in one of her mood swings. It was then, without any warning, without any apprehension and doubt, as if she’s just talking about the weather, she asks: “Bryan, kelan ka ikakasal?”
With my eyes still wide I immediately told Tita Guing, “Buti na lang hindi pala ako sumama no?!” It was then followed by a record breaking time of finishing my plate and hurrying to the kitchen.

A few months ago, after having a long day of spending the day with friends, I decided to sit beside her while watching her favorite teleseryes. She just burst out that time, and I paraphrase, “Kumpleto na ang buhay ko. Masayang masaya na ako kay lahat ng mga tito mo Toto, Bingbong, Junjun at tita mo Dolly, Inday, ug Guinguing nasa maayos na. May bahay na tayo. Hindi ko inisip na makakatira ako sa ganitong bahay. Ang bait bait ng Panginoon sa’tin. I’m so very happy!”

In a lot of ways, what we all do really is for Lola. Everything is for Lola. I believe that when Tita Guinguing bought the house, more than anything else, Lola was in her top priority. When Tito Jun and Tita Thanna settled down, that was for Lola. When mommy and Jamie decided to do some renovations for the house, it was for Lola. When Tito Bingbong and Tita Jane had three kids, they were for Lola. When Tita Dolly got worried last Christmas at what gift to give, it was certainly for Lola. In Dumaguete, our lives revolve around her. I can’t say it enough, we all just love Lola.
___

It’s a shame that I’m trying to recall all the good things she has done in her life, I’m sure these are not enough, no words will ever be enough to describe a woman as effulgent and wonderful as Lola. I feel that as I am making this, I’m failing her because my mind could only recall so much. My only consolation is that however my mind forgets, my heart, our hearts, will always know how beautiful a person, oh what a gift, Lola is to all of us.

In almost three decades of existence, I’ve lost a lot already. I’ve cried for people far too much. And the thought that grieving for Lola Esing, is but another tear for a wonderful faded flower in lush garden called life. With the love Lola Esing has shared, it’s not at all that hard to continue enjoying life as much as she did, to fight for life as much as she did, to give so much, as much as she did.


When I go to Cebu I will not try to find you there, you will not be there, because I know you will always be in our hearts.

There’s something beautiful about what Yann Martel said about death: The reason death sticks so closely to life isn’t biological necessity – it’s envy. Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can. But life leaps over oblivion lightly, losing only a thing or two of no importance, and gloom is but the passing shadow of a cloud. 

Saturday, July 14, 2012

When Death becomes real

It's been thirteen years ago since death became real to me. Only 39, my papa died. The very moment I came from school and I heard it from the mouth of a neighbor. "Anong oras daw namatay?"
I still can't describe how I felt back then but I'll try. It's like being splashed with icy cold water all over my body. It's like all the muscles I have forgot the reason they're there. It's like my chest being suddenly, for no apparent reason, crushed by a huge rock. It's like my heart suddenly jumped beats. Beats. Maybe for a full minute or so. Until I feel as if my spirit knowingly and painfully ripping away from my body. And until then, everything I see is black, my memory hazy. I hear only muffled sounds. That's when I found myself bawling. Bawling and cursing and kicking. A time when my body is confused with exhaustion, weakness, and its need for physical release - tension and aggression.

And tonight, death comes knocking on my doors again. Hello, it said. It's been long. A somber, dreadful, slow, deliberate, gloomy mix of emotions suddenly creeps up my spine.

I know for a fact that his coming is inevitable. But tonight and the coming days ahead, I wish for it not to come sooner. And when he does, be like a silent thief in the night.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

@__@

ANG GULO MO!

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.

Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.

Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.
Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.
Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.
Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.
Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.
Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.
Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.
Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.
Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.
Gotta pull myself together, keep myself together.

Monday, January 16, 2012

palaisipan

Sana hindi ako mapagod.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Just another letting off steam

How can I tell you the many things I feel without scaring you away --


Like how much I wanna take care of you even if you don't say it, don't show it, or agree with it?
Like how much I just wanna hold your hand and keep it there until sweat runs through each fingers?
Like how badly I want to hug you even when it embarrasses you?
Like how I spent my waking solitary moments thinking of what to text you, just so I can talk to you even for a while longer?
Like how many times a day I try calling you and end up not doing so because I don't want you to feel as if I'm bordering obsessed?
Like how often I find myself thinking about asking you to just stay at my place so I can see you everyday but at the same time knowing that there's a possibility that like these things I mentioned, it might scare you away?
Like how confused I am lately I don't know whether to follow my own instinct of just sticking it out with and for you, or follow my friend's advice of just forgetting about it and move on to the next?
Like how writing and posting this is the only avenue for me to get this off my chest because I'm afraid that if I say these all to you, or even in small doses, you'll think I'm a freak and that I'll scare you away and that you'll run?

SIGH.


Wednesday, January 4, 2012

walking

interestingly enough, your hand fits perfectly into mine.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

5, 4, 3, 2...

That moment when you start running fast while making up, rather, convincing your mind that you are actually about to jump off a cliff - never mind the tall grass that pierces your legs, or the once-in-a-lifetime blooming of an unusual flower, or the pebbles that punctures the soles of your feet; the only thing you hear is the beating of your own heart like the heavy footsteps of a running giant and the wind ringing inside your ears, like cymbals that have just been beaten -- that's when you've decided, in between the buzz of a fly and the falling of the autumn leaf that you are, in fact, as the fog gives way and the rays of the sun beaming on the edge, ready to jump - about to jump - in 5, 4, 3, 2...

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Baaaah.

That moment when the phone beeps and you want it to be from the person you want it to be and you brush off the thought to spare yourself a moment of both excitement and anxiety and you see the phone and it really is from the person you wanted to hear from the most.

nighttime

what has become of me? in the light of recent events, what has it (not knowing exactly what "it" is) molded me into?


it's like the silent and careful fluttering of a small butterfly hovering on a lonely flower in the middle of green fields on a hot midday sun. the early morning dew has evaporated from the earth and gives off a solid, pungent smell. quietly, a mirage is forming in the distance as the soil dries up fast. what is the vision? is it a sea? a pond? a lagoon?
yet, the small butterfly, not knowing where else to go, gently settles on the flower and dutifully sucks up its sweet nectar.