May 8 was my Lola’s first death anniversary. May 12 was my Lolo’s first death anniversary.
It seemed just like yesterday when the news hit us. I didn’t actually know how to react and what to feel at that time. I was shocked. I was blank. I was stressed out due to my upcoming board exam at that time. I was sad.
And since I was busy and concentrating on my review, they didn’t let me come to my grandparents’ burial in the province. I was their very first granddaughter and I wasn’t there. My whole family, my cousins, my uncles and my aunts were there. I was only present on the first day of my grandmother’s wake at St. Peter’s and I headed the next day to Antipolo for my review. Then four days later, I received a text message from my mom saying that my grandfather also died. I felt helpless because I was thinking, ‘What kind of granddaughter am I? My grandparents died and where am I?’ I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to be there but I can’t. The last time I saw my grandfather was a year before he died. The last time I saw my grandmother was in the hospital, a month before she died. I was in Nursing school and I wasn’t able to even take care of my own relative. I didn’t even had the chance to say goodbye properly.
Even until now. I wasn't able to go with my father to visit my grandparents in the cemetery.
I still have that guilt feeling in me that I still haven’t let go. I still feel that there’s something I haven’t done for them yet. Though I never fail to pray for them. But I still want to see them… which I really intend to do by December (if we are going to spend the holiday there) or by next year…
