A Day With Relatives

Last Sunday, May 14th, marked the seventh day since my grandmother’s burial. It was also Mother’s day so we decided to visit her.

I went with my siblings, my cousins, and my aunt and uncles. My dad had work so he couldn’t come.

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When we got to the place, the place where she was buried was not cleaned yet, sadly. We tried to flatten the ground. We prayed afterwards. We went to our grandfather’s grave next. It was a few minutes walk from my grandma’s to my grandpa’s place.

The sun was setting and the color of the sky was changing.

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We prayed and stayed a while. We left before the sun finally set.

We took a walk from the place to where the cars could pass by. We waited for a tricycle and it took about 20 minutes. We visited Jollibee and ate a lot.

It was something we always did: visiting grandpa’s grave and eating at Jollibee. We’ve done it for years, except now, we don’t have our grandma to eat with us.

Going out with my relatives bring up a lot of good memories. We were able to talk a lot. I love them. I’m pretty close to them and I’m thankful to still have them.

I’m sure my grandma is now in a more peaceful place.

I took a few more photos while inside the cemetery. Enjoy~

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Passing Away

Hello! It’s been a while.

I have a ton of blogs to be posted by the week which were originally planned to be posted last week but the family had been busy.

The week before today, my grandmother had unfortunately passed away.

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She had been bedridden for the last three months if I am correct. She was first not able to walk, she was not able to move her legs, the cause is unknown. Then she was not able to move her arms well. Then, I saw her lose weight every single time I visited her. Her house is in the same compound as ours so it was easy to come by. By early April, she had probably lost half of her weight. It was hard for me to look at her. My mom said that my grandma tried to stop eating to stop urinating and defecating as she thought it was hard for her daughter, my aunt, to take her from the bed to the comfort room. She didn’t want my aunt to suffer, too. By the end of April, she was unable to tell her body how and when to move. Her head and her left arm moved on its own. She was not able to open her eyes nor talk to us. She was brought in the hospital by April 28th, as I was told.

The first time I visited her in their house when she was not able to stand anymore, she kept asking to change her clothes. She wanted to look pretty and it was hard for us to talk to her. She kept repeating the same things over and over. And she kept telling me how unpretty she has gotten. It was all very hard to hear. I wanted to tell her to keep holding on and that things would get better. I told her she promised to go to my graduation, months prior. I wanted her to keep something in mind to help her recover. She teared up at times, and though I didn’t show it, I also did.

I tried to visit as much as I can but at times, it was hard to do so. There was a time I bought soda from her store and as I always do, I pass by her house before going back. She asked if I didn’t want to see her as I was in a hurry; it hurt a bit. I was already eating with my family the time I bought the soda. I didn’t want to keep them waiting. Hearing her say that, it might have hurt a lot.

I have been with my grandma, lola Lydia as we call her, since I was about a year old. She took care of me and my cousins. I was the second granddaughter, I was close to her. We all were.

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My grandma had said more times than a few that she wanted her suffering to end, and she wanted to die. It hurt. I loved her and it hurt. And as someone who had wished the same too many times, it hurt. I didn’t know what kind of pain she was feeling, but nevertheless was at pain. And it hurt that I couldn’t do anything about it.

She had a mini-store where I pass by whenever I went to and from my school. It was a routine — passing by and telling her how I think my day would be and what I have been up to these days and coming home saying Hi and telling her how my day did go. When she was not able to walk, it was hard and felt incomplete when I was not able to bid her good bye.

I might or might not have any more stories to tell but I’ll cut this off and tell you about the first week of May, 2017.

By 11 in the morning, my uncle was asked to come to the hospital for the doctors and nurses had started doing CPR to my grandma. I was thinking twice about going and my mom went to Rizal so I called her. By 12NN, my siblings and I arrived at the hospital. A few minutes later, at around 12:20PM, my grandma has passed away.

The doctors said that due to her old age and being malnourished, my grandma was not able to be revived. She could not take it anymore and her body had stopped responding. We went inside her room and it might have been the first time I saw my aunt and uncle cry. It was the first time in years they’ve seen me do so, too.

After waiting for everyone we called, we all individually said our good bye’s. It hurt that she had passed a few minutes before. I kissed her forehead for the first and last time. I did mano one last time. It was the last wish she asked of me when I once visited her at her house.

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We stayed at the hospital until around the 4PM. It was hard to leave but it was better to have left grandma’s children there with her, to talk to each other.

I took a shower after arriving home, and while there, I poured my heart out. I had two regrets: promising myself to buy her groceries for her store when the time came but not being able to do so (I planned to do it by June) and not taking a selca with her. I cried a lot more the rest of the day.

I am one that tries not to regret all that I have no power doing something over. I try my hardest to.

By the evening, grandma was taken to St. Peter’s in Quezon Avenue. By Tuesday, she was moved to a temporary room. By Wednesday, her wake started. We all went there.

I went there again by Thursday and then again by Friday. I spent the night from Friday through Saturday morning, went home by the morning and came back again the afternoon. I spent the last day, Saturday, in the chapel still until the morning of Sunday.

By Sunday, May 7th, a mass was held. Then, she was brought to Himlayang Pilipino and was buried there. It was cloudy and it rained a bit.

White balloons were bought which were later released after her burial.

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I saw my grandpa, her brother, cry over her, when they said good bye. It was a few past 2PM when it happened.

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I want my grandma to know that I love her and I am thankful that she is no longer in pain. I will be doing my best to graduate. I hope that she is happy where she is now.