Dear Lolo

Dear Lolo,

My tears are falling in torrents and my hands are shaking as I write this.  Just when I thought I'd had the perfect day - dinner with friends and new-found friends at a good resto - I opened my inbox to a message from my cousin  informing me that you passed away in your sleep earlier today (August 23).  At first I was shocked and frozen, unable to shed even a tear as the news first failed to register in my endorphin-saturated brain.  Then slowly, the sad truth began to sink in, and the tears fell unbidden. 

With your passing, I've officially lost both sets of loving grandparents, and that is such a terrible loss.  After all, I was the one apo who had the greatest tendency of being spoiled by the grandparents.  You may not be my biological grandfather (you being Mommy's stepfather who took on the paternal role when Lolo Euling was killed more than fifty years ago), but you loved me like a real granddaughter.  I faintly recall you giving four-year-old me two one-peso coins - considered a fortune for kids growing up in the mid-80's - while my much-older cousins got only half the amount.  I can also recall that you were firm in your decision - no matter how unfair it was to my school-age cousins at that time - to give me that amount.  Well, I cannot remember what I'd bought with the two pesos you gave me, but it made me feel special and loved.  I guess it was always in your nature to be so generous to us kids, and even to our parents. 

I can also remember one incident on a long-ago summer evening when all of my maternal cousins and I piled into your green car, and you took us joyriding in the streets of Bacolod.  You yelled at us several times because we were all screaming and laughing, and must have gotten to your nerves.  Yet all was forgiven when we reached home and you never mentioned that one pasaway incident to our parents. 

You were funny.  You used to sing your own version of "Mexicali Rose" that sent us into fits of laughter.  You'd say the funniest things at random moments, and these sayings were so unique that we kept them in memory and then go into fresh gales of laughter whenever a saying or two was mentioned.  You were also a frustrated member of the PNP, and you'd always wear your "Bantay Bayan" jacket with pride and visit your "general friends" at Camp Crame whenever you were in Manila (or so you said).  

You were so obsessed with men in uniform that I'd had to warn Strawberry Cheesecake (who was in the uniformed services back then) to not mention this fact to you in the event that you met.  But then again, you'll never meet him so I can put my fears of embarrassment to rest.  

I can go on and on with the fond, funny and embarrassing memories we've had of you through the years, but the space here isn't sufficient to contain them all.  One of these days, when the grief will have become bearable, your apos and step-apos will recount these memories and go into fits of laughter and relive again the unique person that you were.

We will miss you terribly, Lolo, but we are also relieved that you had been given respite after your long hard life.  Sleep well until that long-foretold and long hoped-for blessed morning of the resurrection when the whole family will be reunited.

We love you.   

Back to Basics?

Note: Something happened to my laptop before the long weekend, and I had to have it reformatted to make it run faster.  I was initially worried that the reformatting and repair will continue through the long weekend, depriving me of my precious sci-fi movie time.  Hence this little entry dated August 17, 2012.

My laptop is in the repair shop as I write this, and I have no idea when I'll get it back and how much it's going to cost me.  I shudder at having to pay thousands of pesos, and I'm hoping against hope that my wallet won't be burned that much.

Too bad, it's a long weekend and I have been looking forward to watching all episodes of The Big Bang Theory, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, and Lord of the Rings.  Most of them, unfortunately, are stored in m laptop, so chances of watching them are now nil.  

It is comforting, however, that I'd bought several books earlier this week because they were on sale in Booksale.  There's all three volumes of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, a novel entitled Piano Lessons, and a really geeky book on organic synthesis using the disconnection approach.  Why I bought the geeky book, I have no idea.  Professional curiosity perhaps.  Anyway,  these five books cost less than PhP600, very reasonable compared to brand-new ones which cost twice the amount I'd paid for in Booksale. 

Seeing all these books on my desk makes me want to grab one, head out to the nearest coffee shop and immerse myself in the pages while sipping a cup of overpriced coffee and munching overpriced pastries.  I used to do that when I was a freshman in graduate school.  Strawberry Cheesecake - a classmate in one of my graduate courses back then - and I would stay at The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf from about nine in the morning to a quarter of an hour before class. We would then dash out of Robinson's Place and into Salcedo Hall, where biochem lectures are held.  I guess it was also during these coffee-book-and-talks moment that fell head-over-heels in love with him.  I still am, but I'll save the gory details for another entry.

In a way, it feels nostalgic and comforting to be holding an actual book and turning actual pages instead of just opening a file and using a mouse or touchpad to navigate the pages.  It's as if I'm transported to my childhood, a time when laptops, e-books and wi-fi were unheard-of.  A time when I preferred reading to playing with the neighborhood kids, and fancied myself to be one of the Hardy Boys and their friends.  A time when I would go to a real music store to buy a particular piano piece or a music book, instead of just googling it and downloading the file to my sheet music folder.  

Perhaps this momentary absence of my laptop will help me reconnect with my old-school side.  I've almost forgotten the thrill of lying in bed, head propped by pillows, while engrossed in the chapters of a book.  Or the coziness of savoring each page, eating Chips Ahoy dunked in cold milk and being wrapped in a blanket while listening to the sound of raindrops during rainy days. Thinking about these things doesn't make the absence of my laptop horrible.  On the contrary, it helps activate my long-dormant neurons.  

Oh well, back to basics.  For now.