It’s been 3 days since I departed from my grandparents’ house—a place I called home for about a year.
Naturally, this ‘going away’ brought gloom upon me. A year where nothing noteworthy had happened; how could something of such, be so mundane yet so quick?
There is guilt dwelling inside me; it is as if I have done my grandparents dirty. All these years, I have barely visited them—some of these instances were such that I almost had to be dragged to even come. My memories of their place were filled by those from more than 15 years ago, which should not have been the case because their place is just a few minutes away from our home. Of the twenty-five years I’ve lived so far in this world, fifteen of them was almost without a hint of my Lola Mari and Lolo Carlo—and even the moments where they were present, were them visiting us in our abode. Yet with all these in mind, they welcomed me with open arms, granting me a place to call home for a year while I try to carve a path for myself, to learn more about me.
Originally, we were supposed to have a fun and simple video blogging page. When I first arrived, I was surprised by the verdant garden they’ve cultivated over the months prior to my arrival. I was deeply moved by their passion and teamwork towards this green project—which also convinced me to start a Facebook and YouTube page for them and their garden, it was called “Mari and Carlo’s Farm.” At first, I uploaded a video worth several minutes long, showcasing their current plants and harvests. I believe the plants were cucumbers, green bell peppers, bottle gourds, red chili peppers and a few more I could not recall by the time of writing this entry. I kept up with the uploads for a short while until I stopped uploading due to a lack of motivation and getting distracted by other pursuits, mainly of video games.
This pattern of starting new projects and abandoning them continued on until the day of my departure—I would even argue that some of them were never started at all! I planned on growing mushrooms, lettuces, garlics, and other food plants; but it was all but for naught, all was forsaken in the name of video games.
I have also failed to help them aside from the most basic of tasks. Aside from the washing of dishes and the occasional sweeping and mopping the floor, I almost did not help with anything else. This is one of my biggest regrets—why did I not help my aging and ailed grandparents? Though they repeatedly announced that they are still well and fit for such chores (that I should not concern about those trivial things and that I should focus more studying and/or working.) I know that they still needed help, in a way. They needed a hand more than ever; as the aging slowly creeps up to them, and to my grandfather who seems to be terminally ill according to my mother.
I changed a bit too late, and I know I will no longer have a chance to live with them again—not because they will not accept me back, but because my path had already diverged with theirs. I must now walk my own path again; for me, my parents and siblings. I might be able to (and I should) visit them from time to time, but ultimately, my life is already pointed in a direction away from them.
My dear grandparents, Lola Mari and Lolo Carlo; I am sorry for my previous lack of gratitude and respect for the shelter, food, comfort, love and care that you have given me. I will forever cherish our short conversations—the stories of your past and the hardships that came along with it, the lessons you have taught me, and all the sacrifice you’ve done for me, for us (my mom, my uncles and aunt, and your grandchildren.)
Thank you for being there for me as I sought a path of redemption. I wish I have stayed with you when I was in a healthier emotional and mental state—but alas, my stay was over before I knew it, and I know you were quite surprised about it too.
I love you deeply, Lola Mari and Lolo Carlo. You are two of the strongest people I have ever known and will probably ever know. You are inseparable; nothing is ever impossible when you are together.