Bonifacia Lipa Toliao or Lola Mamay, as we would call her, is my grandmother.
I have too many cousins in that side of my family (mother's side actually) and we rarely/barely see each other that much. Some are already designated/living abroad and the others are in seperate places here. That is why every opportunity that we have to get together is such a huge ordeal in our family. It's like having a week-long festivity, where Auntie Baet's fragile abode is what we consider our home. In these times, one voice carries a blinding silence.
I cannot even remember the last time I heard her voice. As in talking like everyone else in a loud family. What I remember though is the last time I saw her stand and walk on her own, only with dragging steps. I was in highschool then. She was at the balcony, shouting to the neighbors, though in a hushed tone. It was something about the plants. She thought they were stealing it. I don't know if anybody remembers that, but I did. It was childish and quite funny actually. On the next visits that followed that, she has slowly lost her motor skills.
Until she couldn't really stand on her own.
Until she could barely remember the people around her.
Until she could barely care about the things around her.
Until there was total silence around her.
On January 23, she gave up her last breath. In the arms of her loving daughters and son.
She went off to finally be with our Lolo Pedring, Uncle Fred, Kuya Joel and Auntie Nora again.
Off to a happier place where she could chat endlessly with Auntie Nora.
Off to a happier place where she could remember her son, Uncle Fred.
Off to a happier place where she could take care of her grandson, Kuya Joel.
Off to a happier place where she could walk hand in hand with Lolo Pedring.
I guess her condition can be likened to Alzheimer's disease. Her loss of current memory is a huge proof of it.
I feel bad for my little brother and sister, as well as to my nieces and nephews for they never got a chance to know Lola Mamay, beyond her being a Lola Puti to them.
That Sunday evening (Jan. 23), Andrei asked me if Lola has always been like that.
No. I have known her from my childhood as the "strict Lola". We seldom see her as she does not regularly visits Manila. But everytime she does, I remember myself heaving a huge sigh.
Lola Mamay's visit means days of "martial law". As a kid, I was pretty mean, I admit. I do not obey orders easily, and that's why she loves giving me some.
"Magwalis ka.", as she would always tell me. I will then grab the broom and lazily brush the dirt away. Being the "metikulosa" that she is, she would have me repeat everything else until she sees the floor spotless.
She also makes it a clear order to shower before sleeping, which I totally get lazy to do before. I would then go to bed and pretend to sleep. While she starts her "sermon" that usually lulls me to sleep.
I was never a lola's girl.
But as I told Andrei my memories of Lola, I realized something.
Her discipline in terms of cleanliness that she instilled in my memory is how I see myself to my little siblings. I am the house commander.
"Maglinis muna bago manood ng TV." is just like her "Magwalis ka." 10 times.
And whenever I see Andrei sweating and dirty after playing outside, I always tell him to wash up or shower.
I was never a lola's girl; I have become my lola.
Maybe I wasn't mad at her for giving too much orders, maybe I was just getting tips from her. And seriously, I don't mind becoming the "strict Lola" too.
The truth is, I love her. I respect her. I will miss her.
Good riddance Lola Mamay.
