Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Basket case

My grandfather died last week after spending a month in the ICU. Tatay had been ill for a while, and he was 78, so it wasn't really a big surprise. I had to take most of last week off to take care of stuff, just trying to make myself useful. I put in my share for the hospital and funeral bills. I shuttled from QC to Funeraria Paz in Sucat to check on the make-up (the embalmer tried to make small talk to, I dunno, cheer me up I guess?) and pick up the body and hitch a ride with the hearse to the chapel in San Pedro. I bought food to make sure the kids had lunch and dinner already and that they stayed out of everyone's way. I even baby-sat relatives who weren't on speaking terms with each other. And despite going with only a couple of hours rest each night, I made it through the week. Maybe it got a bit dusty during the funeral, but I thought I made it out ok. I was there for everyone else. Tatay would have been proud.

And now I'm back in the office, and I've been kind of a basket case since yesterday. Maybe I'm just still tired and stressed out and I don't want to deal with the backlog at work and the projects for school and even the laundry at my apartment.

I was really close to Tatay. I was the first apo. My mom and dad broke up when I was two years old and I didn't see my dad until I was eleven and it was Tatay who was always around at home and he was the only father figure I had. We'd be playing and he'd make me complete sentences and he'd say, "Emak is a bad..." and I'm eager to finish the sentence and I rush to shout, "...boy!" only to realize what it meant and trying to take it back by saying, "Goo' boy po! Goo' boy po!" Then I was in kindergarten, he'd pick me up from school because my mom was busy at work and we never really saw each other but it was ok because Tatay and I would walk the six blocks home and neither of us were ever bored because I'd be looking at all the signboards we passed along the way and I'd be reading them out loud and Tatay would never get tired of it. And there are a million other stories and I'd never tell them because what's the point and nobody cares and it's starting to get dusty in the office what's wrong with the air-conditioner here and my officemates are starting to look at me funny and they don't know what's going on...

So, uhm, yeah.


My condolences..

He the same Tatay who was good at crossword puzzles?


the same one


*hug* dear. sorry i wasn't able to visit. hope you'll be much better soon.


sorry about your loss bro. i did not know


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