Three nights ago, I saw my grandfather in my dream. I don’t wanna say I dremat of him. Maybe it’s because I don’t want how my dream went.
You know how dreams are. There are changes of scenarios, and delineations in between dreams are not that clear. Here’s how it went:
Achi and I were fighting over something. She rang me while I was eating snaks at some resto. Weird, but I could see my sister in my peripheral vision. When the me in my dream did turn her head, Achi was there. In short, we were having a mobile phone conversation while she was only one ouch away from me.
Achi: Ikaw buro. Kitaa nag-iisog na la hi Lolo. (It’s your fault. See now, Grandpa is angry.)
Me: Ako? Bahala ka daw. Labot ha im. (Me? How is it my fault? Never mind, I don’t care about you.)
Achi: Hague. Ambot ha im. ( Sigh. Whatever!)
The next picture was what broke my heart. I saw my Grandpa the way he was at the hospital, weeks before his death earlier this year. He was in a vegetative state. In the background, I heard my voice. It said that my Grandpa had high BP pressures. The entire dream felt so real. The entire dream.
I remember so vividly the night before I came to Manila for enrollment. My Grandfather had hypertensive episodes. He had spikes of hypertension in the middle of the night. There were two nurses (or student-nurses) in the house: me and my second-year cousin Toteen. My cousin did not have a sphygmomanometer then because that wasn’t part of their curriculum yet. We had to borrow a sphyg from our doctor-neighbor.Dad called, and told me that I should monitor Grandpa’s BP, and take them every two hours. So yes, my flight was the next day. But guess what, I didn’t care. I felt more important as a person, helping my Grampa. I feel happy that I have served him before he passed on.
My Lolo sit hat kind of person. He deserves to have the best in life. He had humble beginnings, but howhe turned out in life is much of a success story. People look up to him. Several TESDA Directors have been circulated around regions of the country, but not him. Why? Because Region VIII TESDA has never been better. Only my Lolo has been director for three terms. His subordinates love him as a boss. He is strict, but mostly fatherly. He is loved by all. He is a civil engineer. He had hi Masters at Harvard. He also lived in various countries at such a young age because he was sent there to study. Most of the countries he has visited are European, and he never says no when we ask him to tell him stories. Lolo’s work usually involves dealing with Asians like the Japanese, Chinese, and Korean. Theywere his business partners.
Even after his death, everyone knows that no one could replace him. My family never worried about anything during Lolo’s funeral because a convoy consisting of at least six trucks of flowers and accessories were sent to his home in the province ( some 2 hours away from the city). It wasn’t planned but out family decided to succumb to Lolo’s national bosses. His bosses wanted to hold a wake in Manila because there are a number of people (mostly from the central office) who wanted to say their condolences. We slept, but the visitors did keep coming. In Tacloban where he is buried, his loved ones visit him. Also, there were Asian business partners who came to pay their respect.
I remember the crazy chase we had on our way to the airport. Dad’s, auntie’s, and Nanay’s flight were a t two in the afternoon. Since Lolo’s casket was to be transported to Leyte, they had to be at the airport before 12 of the clock. The wake the night before was held at QC, and it was impossible to be at the airport in 30-60 minutes. It was already eleven o’clock. Friends of police relatives were so much help.It was as if we were in an ambulance. there were eight cars in the convoy, including the car carrying Lolo’s casket. There were policemen in motorcycles, and there were policemen driving our cars. Every car on the street made way for out parade. They really did! And so, we arrived at the airport in a little over 30 minutes. This might jsut be the fastest recorded travel time for QC to Pasay City.
The thing is that I feel some guilt about his passing on. I am not going to tell why, not becaue I want to keep it secret, but becasue I believe that telling the world is not going to make me feel any better. I hope Lolo knows how we all feel.
I am not scared of dreaming of him again. To date, this is my third dream about him. I am not scared. I just want to talk to him.
Thank God for people like Lolo. Thank God I have someone like him to brag about.THank God we are related because i can never tell how I would have turned out as a person had I not known him. I love you, Lo!