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BY RHODA GARZON CAMPILLAN
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Memory lane
I MISS my two lolas –my Lola Jovita (my Nanay’s mom) and my Lola Angeles (my Tatay’s mom). Lola Jovita passed away when I was 17 years old while Lola Angeles died when I was 22.
Lola Jovita stayed with us in Bacolod City ever since I was a baby. She assisted my Nanay in taking good care of us. She cooked our food, prepared our baon, bathed us and cleaned the house.
When I was in Kindergarten, she was ever ready to help me get into my uniform and shoes. She prepared my lunch and tied my hair with cute ribbons.
Lola Jovita was like a second mom to me and my sisters and this was why we called her Nanay, too. She was a prominent figure in our house. We adored and loved her very much.
However, Lola Jovita was quite strict. She did not want us to shout loudly and move like rascals. We should be lady-like, I often heard her say.
She also wanted us to return all our toys to their proper places after we played them. When we refused to follower her orders, she would get mad. We were scared because her eyes grew big like a platito and she would threaten to pinch our thighs painfully.
Lola Jovita was very thoughtful. She never missed our recognition day in school or even our declamation contests. She was always present and very proud of her apos. She designed our clothes and sew it using her sewing machine. She gave them as gifts.
After I finished high school, I left Bacolod City. I passed the UPCAT and my plan was to enroll at the University of the Philippines in Miagao, Iloilo. I left on June of 2001.
I would only come home every weekend. It never occurred to me that Lola Jovita would leave us sooner. The memories were still vivid.
It was November. She had just returned home from visiting her dead parents buried in Pontevedra, Negros Occidental. She did not tell my mother’s cousin who was with her that she was experiencing stomach ache. She felt tremendous pain and so she was not able to return to our house. She instead went straight to my aunt’s house which was near the bus terminal.
My mother, upon learning that Lola Jovita was feeling sick, went to see her immediately. We accompanied her. We were worried.
My mother thought Lola Jovita was just experiencing ulcer because she usually complained about it and so Nanay told us she would stay with Lola and that we could go home ahead.
Around midnight, Lola told Nanay she wanted to pee. She was not able to reach the toilet; she collapsed.
Lola Jovita had a heart attack. They brought her to the hospital but she was pronounced dead on arrival.
My mother called us around dawn. She did not tell us that Lola died already; she just asked if we could go to the hospital.
When we reached the emergency room, Nanay told us the bad news.
I went straight to my Lola who was lying on a hospital bed. I cried as if there was no tomorrow. This is my first experience of death in the family. The pain pounded my entire body. So this was how it felt when you lose someone you love. I did not hide my grief. I did not care if I was crying too loud.
It took years before I recovered from the pain. I still remember her all the time. Sometimes I wish she were alive; I bet she would enjoy her apos.
I have accepted the fact that she would never come back. And so I pray for her every day that she may find peace.
On the other hand, my earliest memory of my Lola Angeles was when I was three or four years old. She would often visit us in Bacolod City.
A taxicab would stop in front of our yard and I would immediately run and open the door of the cab. I always knew it was Lola Angeles. I would hold her hand as we entered the gate.
Lola Angeles usually brought her delicious suman and ibos but I also remember her preparing her tobacco – how she carefully peeled her secret ingredients one by one then chew the betel nut before smoking her tobacco. Lola Angeles explained the step-by-step process on how to prepare her special tobacco.
She was the sweetest lola I know. She made us feel at home every time we visited her in San Joaquin, Iloilo. She cooked our favorite chicken tinola. She made sure we were comfortable. I only get to visit her every summer and I made sure to make most of my time with her. She got sick when she turned 82. She was rushed to the hospital and died there eventually. She died of old age. Like my Lola Jovita, I also pray for her that she may find immeasurable happiness in heaven.
It’s the time of the year again when we remember our dead loved ones. Even if it is not All Souls’ Day, we should offer a prayer for them. They need it as they traverse the unknown world. We missed them but we must be happy that they can finally experience ultimate joy with the Almighty. We must always remember them and cherish their memories.
We cannot fully understand death; that is why it is called a mystery. No one really knows what is in store when a person dies. However, the best thing we can do while we are still alive is enjoy our lives, spread goodness to everyone and pray all the time./PN
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