Honestly, when my cousin called today, I expected something to be up. I mean, she never calls to tell me how incredibly awesome her day went. But instead of hearing about some boy drama or church drama or momma drama, I find out that my tatay (really, my lolo, but we all call him that) has died. Even right now, putting this down, I'm at a loss for words.
I have way too many thoughts in my head right now. When my nanay died a few months before, it didn't seem to affect me that much. So why am I so upset about tay dying? Really, the last time I saw him was when I was, like, six. But...I don't know..I don't, I really don't.
I still remember when he was here for our family reunion, and I used to live in my old house. He used to smoke then, and I remember seeing him outside in the front smoking once. And I went up to him and told him that he shouldn't smoke because it was bad for him. And my mom told me that he was so shocked that I said that to him, insulted even. But when my mom went back to the Philippines a few years back, she told me that tatay wanted to let me know that he didn't smoke anymore, and the reason was because of me.
He had a stroke about a year ago, and ever since my mom has kept saying that she would finally take us all to the Philippines so we could see him for one last time before he died. I really wish we made that trip, but I guess it's better that I didn't see him suffer. The stroke made his face sag on one side. My auntie had to hire someone to take care of him because he was in such need of attention.
I asked my mom how it happened, and she said that he just stopped breathing. He said he had to go because nanay was waiting for him. I guess that's a good way to go. It sounds peaceful. At least he's in a better place now.
