I normally don't write about this stuff, but I think it was time I vented this out.
The loss of a loved one is something I got exposed to somewhat early in life. I lost my grandfather (Cebu) when I was in 2nd year high-school (14yrs old). My last living memory of him is the sound of his voice via a phone call -- the sound of weak struggling breaths and no other words. The youthful sense of invincibility cracked at that point. You'll never see him again during school vacations. Everyone you know will eventually fade away.
I lost my other grandfather (Manila) when I was in 4th year high-school. My last living memory of him was him lying comatose in a hospital bed only breathing normally via life support. That was the time I learned to dislike being in hospital wards and their tubes. Helplessness in a situation is a frustrating feeling to have.
October 14, 2013 - my grandmother (Manila) died in her sleep. She had just been discharged from the hospital a few days prior. Pneumonia had left her in a coma for more than a week, but she managed to recover.
Early this morning, my mom called and told me that my other grandmother (Cebu) had died at home. It was sudden, it was unexpected, it drove me to treat everything else for the day as a distraction. The last news I heard before this about her, was that she was okay, but scared due to the earthquakes that had occurred last October 15.
And here I am now, packing once more to go to another gathering.
There are other family deaths, of course. But these are about the coupled ones that I grew up with. Those who represent my world view of companionable, long term love. I thank them for showing me that and more in the time I've spent with them.
