Remembering My Grandparents Today

My parents used to drop me off at my grandparents’ house. There, I would play with my cousins living next door and cousins whose parents, like mine, went off to work. We would play tag, hide and seek, war games, and various ballgames.

During breaks, we drew a lot and prayed the rosary, especially when it was the month of May. Memorable were their smiles as we zoomed by, running from room to room, chasing each other. We never saw them getting impatient. They would even just continue working household chores, oblivious to our rowdy and noisy activities. In the end, the house would be a mess. We were the ones who got impatient when our parents would arrive and stayed to have short chats with our grandparents.

As we grew older, our grandparents started talking to us more. They told us stories about their lives, most of which would elicit laughter from us. Gradually, a line or two of reminders of values were uttered from their mouths, coming from the wealth of wisdom they possessed. Many other cherished memories of their facial expressions still vivid would make me smile, and when they grew weaker and sickly, those same memories would haunt me.

Our grandparents were not so talkative in our younger days, as we were busy playing. We knew firsthand about them from our parents, especially their likes and dislikes. When their lips started to open, there was a deepening of knowledge about them, and we grew fonder of them. Love blossoms through knowledge. Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI adds that admiration, a function of love, may come first. As we share more ourselves during the ensuing conversations, we became part of each other in a profound way.

I still miss them. May Lola and Lola rest in peace. (Johan Sulit)