I just arrived from a reunion with my relatives who came from abroad. Most of them came home for the holidays because my cousin is getting married tomorrow.
It was nice seeing my cousins, aunts, uncles, and other relatives from abroad. But also kinda sad because some of them have grown old and weak.
My lola's sister, one of my favorites, is suffering from severe arthritis and also has mild dementia.
Her name is Paulina. Friends call her "Po-le" for short. But some of the kids could not pronounce it and called her "Oye". And so, she has since been fondly called as Nana Oye.
Because of the arthritis, hindi sya makagalaw without assistance. She has to have a walker and is always sitting down on her wheelchair. Because of the dementia, Nana Oye gets disoriented. She mistakes people for someone else. She sometimes doesn't recognize us. She sometimes looks for my grandfather who died in 1991.
It was a far cry from the robust and perky woman that I knew a few years ago.
I remember that people in her neighborhood lovingly call her the "Candy Lady". She made sure that she had small treats in her pocket to give out to the neighbors' kids when she meets them on the street. When someone did something nice for her, candy. When she talked with someone on the street, candy. The bus driver, the local priest, the mailman, the teenage bagger at the grocery store, you name it, she had candy for each one.
My fondest memory would be of her moving around the kitchen to cook one of her amazing meals. Each time we visit her and her daughter in California, we would gain weight. Ten pounds, minimum. Breakfast would be ready even before we woke up. She can cook a mean kare-kare. I called her "The Best Cook in the World", which tickled her pink. And I meant it.
I could recall how she would climb up and down the hilly terrain of their neighborhood in California. She would navigate the 15 steps up their backyard just to water the small pine trees that she herself planted. I can still see her hunkering down to tend to her front lawn, shears in her left hand, trowel in her right. Everyday, she would go to church and bring home treats for us from the grocery store.
Even when we were in Manila, her love and affection for us would cross the miles of oceans that separate us. She never forgot a birthday. She would make sure that we got cards that would arrive exactly a day before our birthday. Sometimes with a dollar or two inside.
To me, she was the epitome of energy and vivacity. She was fiesty and tart. But she loved us, and treated us like her very own grandchildren.
In mythology, the Sphinx was said to have guarded the entrance to the Greek city of Thebes and asked a riddle to travelers to allow them passage. The riddle goes:
Which creature in the morning goes on four legs,
At mid-day on two,
And in the evening upon three?"
Oedipus solved the riddle by answering: Man—who crawls on all fours as a baby, then walks on two feet as an adult, and then walks with a cane in old age.
I realize that there is another stage in Man's life: the stage where man needs more than three legs because he is too weak and therefore cannot live without the help of another. The weaker man gets during the twilight years, the more legs he needs.
Now, as I see Nana Oye's hunched figure silently sitting on a wheelchair, as I help her get up from bed, as she holds on to me as we walk, as I patiently explain things to her whenever she is disoriented, I realize, she needs another pair of legs to support her current three. And I will do my best to be those two extra legs while she is here. That's the least I could do to repay the love and care that she gave us.
Thank you, Nana Oye.
It was nice seeing my cousins, aunts, uncles, and other relatives from abroad. But also kinda sad because some of them have grown old and weak.
My lola's sister, one of my favorites, is suffering from severe arthritis and also has mild dementia.
Her name is Paulina. Friends call her "Po-le" for short. But some of the kids could not pronounce it and called her "Oye". And so, she has since been fondly called as Nana Oye.
Because of the arthritis, hindi sya makagalaw without assistance. She has to have a walker and is always sitting down on her wheelchair. Because of the dementia, Nana Oye gets disoriented. She mistakes people for someone else. She sometimes doesn't recognize us. She sometimes looks for my grandfather who died in 1991.
It was a far cry from the robust and perky woman that I knew a few years ago.
I remember that people in her neighborhood lovingly call her the "Candy Lady". She made sure that she had small treats in her pocket to give out to the neighbors' kids when she meets them on the street. When someone did something nice for her, candy. When she talked with someone on the street, candy. The bus driver, the local priest, the mailman, the teenage bagger at the grocery store, you name it, she had candy for each one.
My fondest memory would be of her moving around the kitchen to cook one of her amazing meals. Each time we visit her and her daughter in California, we would gain weight. Ten pounds, minimum. Breakfast would be ready even before we woke up. She can cook a mean kare-kare. I called her "The Best Cook in the World", which tickled her pink. And I meant it.
I could recall how she would climb up and down the hilly terrain of their neighborhood in California. She would navigate the 15 steps up their backyard just to water the small pine trees that she herself planted. I can still see her hunkering down to tend to her front lawn, shears in her left hand, trowel in her right. Everyday, she would go to church and bring home treats for us from the grocery store.
Even when we were in Manila, her love and affection for us would cross the miles of oceans that separate us. She never forgot a birthday. She would make sure that we got cards that would arrive exactly a day before our birthday. Sometimes with a dollar or two inside.
To me, she was the epitome of energy and vivacity. She was fiesty and tart. But she loved us, and treated us like her very own grandchildren.
In mythology, the Sphinx was said to have guarded the entrance to the Greek city of Thebes and asked a riddle to travelers to allow them passage. The riddle goes:
Which creature in the morning goes on four legs,
At mid-day on two,
And in the evening upon three?"
Oedipus solved the riddle by answering: Man—who crawls on all fours as a baby, then walks on two feet as an adult, and then walks with a cane in old age.
I realize that there is another stage in Man's life: the stage where man needs more than three legs because he is too weak and therefore cannot live without the help of another. The weaker man gets during the twilight years, the more legs he needs.
Now, as I see Nana Oye's hunched figure silently sitting on a wheelchair, as I help her get up from bed, as she holds on to me as we walk, as I patiently explain things to her whenever she is disoriented, I realize, she needs another pair of legs to support her current three. And I will do my best to be those two extra legs while she is here. That's the least I could do to repay the love and care that she gave us.
Thank you, Nana Oye.
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