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Funeral Not Wedding

I was seven years old when my grandma died. I did not cry when I first heard about the sad news. I don't know why. Maybe because I don't want to believe that she left me without saying good bye. I haven’t fulfilled my promise to her yet. I can still remember the time when she washed me after I pooed and would tell me that when I grow up I should do the same to her when she can’t take care of herself anymore. “Of course grandma”, I would always reply.

During her wake, I do not want to look at her casket because I was always afraid that she might open her eyes and grab me. Believe it or not, until now I’m still afraid looking on caskets. My uncles would carry me when they would look at the casket but I would always turn my back. Then they would tell me that I was lola’s favorite apo and that she will visit me on my sleep if I will not look at her in the casket. After a few days, I would climb up the stairs and take a peek at my grandma’s casket then I would go and lock myself in our room. I would ask God why it has to be a funeral, why can’t it be a wedding so everyone can be happy. I have tons of questions when I was a child.

I was closer to my lola than my mom during those time and when my mom would smack me with her ever trusted pamalo I would always run to my lola and she would stop my mom. My mom would tell me that the reason why I’m such a stubborn girl is because lola spoiled me. I’m such a bitch when I was a kid you know! I can make my mom cry. My grandma would always give in to my every capricious acts and wishes. God I’m missing my lola!

It’s nice to remember our departed loved ones but let us not forget family members and friends who are still with us at this very moment. We should show them how much we care and love them when we still have the luxury of time.

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Saturday, November 03, 2007