Of course, I was preparing a birthday blog (in my head) last night. But naturally, I forgot what I wanted to say. Today's my grandfather's birthday. When I was younger and he had his first stroke, I feared he would die, I cried all the time while being beside him all the time. When he underwent radiation, we were all beside him to attend to his whims and caprices -- I to find him the ripest and most delicious papaya, it's his favorite. He's always disappointed, and hot-heated, and lost a lot of weight. Then he was diagnosed of cancer, and it was something I could not believe would happen to him -- after all, I refuse to believe grandparents die. I believed grandparents will always be there. When he died, I did not fear of losing him. I was relieved he was free from physical, earthly pain. But I feared that he would be alone, and I -- together with my siblings and cousins -- would not be there to cheer him up. Until now, the thought of him physically gone is still unbelievable because it is as if he never left. We still talk of him as if he's just in Bio-os where he once had an office. And we still make sumbong whenever one of us do something naughty. Or my mother still constantly reminds us to be good so that we won't disappoint him, or our grandmother. Happy birthday, lo. I miss you.
