It took me quite a while to finish this journal series. It's very hard for me because I feel like I am not at this stage yet. I am not yet done. I am still mourning.
There is no easy way to grieve, may it be for an acquaintance or a family member.
My grandfather… he was the best. His life made him the best. There was never a day where his poverty got in the way of giving the best to his kids. My grandfather started earning PHP 7 a day. He built his jeep with his own hands. His home is filled with nephews and cousins up to the third degree. He helped out everyone. He didn't refuse anyone. He sent his kids to school. He saw each one of them graduate, take a bride, be taken as a bride, have a family, have a house, have a home. He witnessed everyone's success and downfall. He never didn't believe in anyone. He has always kept the faith for each of us.
He never struck his children or grandchildren. His heart broke every time his grandchildren get smacked, even at the bottom. He was a good disciplinarian, without using the rod. He had a stroke in 1991, another in 1999, and another in 2000. He was left paralyzed after the last one. But he went places we've never been to. But there was never an instance when he didn't want to take us with him.
He loved his province. He loved the rice fields, the coarse sand, the pigs, the chickens, the cows. He loved the air there. He loved most of all the sun. He never stopped loving the sun.
He loved his wife. He loved his wife in every way a woman deserves to be loved. Her face was the only one he sees. He always thought she was pretty. She was never not pretty. She was always pretty. She was beautiful. He knows us all by voice. But by face? There was only one face in his mind. Her.
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Thank you. To all of you, who have been there every step of the way, thank you. I'll get there.
Thank you.
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I love you, Lolo. I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so much. I love you. You make me fly, Lolo. I love you.
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