my grandmother

My grandmother was rushed to the hospital last week. My aunt said she was complaining of having difficulty of breathing. They were able to take her home by weekend however, she still had to go back by yesterday because of the same thing.

Actually, my aunt had been calling our house telling us to visit my grandmother. I already intended to do sa but I just couldn't delay my thesis that easy. If it weren't for the transport strike today that led to the suspension of classes, I would have not gone at all.

Anyway, my mom, dad and I went inside the room and well, there she was lying on her bed, almost totally dependent of the oxygen tank placed beside her bed. Although she had always been skinny, this was the very first time I saw her that bad. She was so weak, she couldn't even help herself get up to greet us.

She's not sick, that's for sure. My relatives believe her condition is brought about by old age. She is almost 90 years old. But even if she was that old, she still had very good eyesight, very strong bones and very strong words.

I couldn't look at her for a long time. Although I did not grow up with her living in our house, she had been explicit of her dreams for me and I guess I've always held onto those things. She had always recognized my interest for politics and supported me all the way. She wanted me to become a journalist even before I realized I wanted to write at all.

She's also the baker of the family. Her expertise include fruit cake, brownies (not using the commercial mix), fudge and cupcakes. Apparently, no one had the interest of continuing that as a family tradition because we were all too scared of her. However, I really promised her to spend time with her after I finish my thesis and just before I start working, endure her impatience for the love of baking and family tradition.

But with her condition, I doubt if she will even make it till the end of the month. She had stopped eating, even drinking. In fact, she had already told me to get all those magazines and journalistic stuff she and my grandfather kept even before the war.

The last time we saw prior to this one, when she visited us at our church, she held my hand for so long. She wanted to go to my graduation, as she would always do with almost all her grandchildren. She also told me she wanted to see me get married. Although she have her doubts if it would happen soon but she wanted to at least meet the man as soon as I find myself a boyfriend. At the same time, she told me not to let my marriage, if ever I get married, restrain what I wanted to do, what my passion and advocacy call for.

When I came over to visit her, I thought I was ready to see her in whatever condition and how could I ever be so wrong. I felt it a struggle to pretend that everything was fine, whereas my mom sat by her all the way. I guess I'm really not good at these things. I guess I can't really be like my mother when it comes to this.