The question was thrown out to me 5 times today. But every time I try, I find it difficult to answer the same question.
So, how am I really doing? Truthfully, there is an internal struggle that has been bugging me over the past 24 hours - acceptance and grief.
My grandfather is about 80+ years old. Despite his age and cancer, he has been very strong and patient. He lives with two of his sons and some grand children. One has a family of his own and the other is gay and never married. The gay son takes care of him everyday. But everyday, he would hear fights and sorrow. Despite these, his heart for living is still strong that it kept his daughters and sons together over the years.
When I was kid, he would demand me to eat with them every time I visit him and grandmother. Yes, it is a demand, I need to eat, chat and laugh with them. The need is a want and I love it. I remember him mixing milo, milk and sugar for me. I would eat it while he watches the television. There were countless times that he will tell me multiple (almost the same) stories about his childhood, his days in the war, and how the family has lived in the city. It is one of the fun and rare moments I have had as a child.
At 16, I started living by myself in the province. When it was time to go home to Manila, I would visit them as time permitted. Then he would ask me if I have eaten already. He would still demand I eat with him and grandmother. He knows and would always remember where I was studying and where I am currently working. He remembers, always.
The first time and so far, the only time I have introduced a boyfriend to the Garcia family, grandfather was there. He met him and stayed late to guard me against the boyfriend. He stayed late because he is a conservative father and grandfather. He wanted to make sure that the boyfriend goes home without doing anything naughty or bad to me. I lol'ed but my heart was moved when he told me why. As a grandchild, I love it about him.
He is sick and almost at the end of the road. When I paid him a visit last night, he couldn't speak anymore. He cannot move like before. Anyone can hear how difficult it is for him to breath. Only the apparatus keeps helping him breath. Several tubes are connected to his nose, mouth and limbs. They had to tie him because he always tries to remove them.
I offered the Lord a prayer. There was a struggle to find the words. I want to accept the fact that he is old and he cannot sustain living anymore. But I want to ask the Lord to prolong his life. Internal struggle of acceptance and grief breaks my heart. What and how am I going to pray?
How am I really doing? My heart is breaking and I cannot find any words to define it. A prayer of "Lord, hold my grandfather safe" is the only prayer I can say. It seems not enough but there is nothing else I can utter.
As I go to work and face the world, I need to wear the happy mask. But it would not suffice. I know I have to resolve something within- I need to heal.
We heal ourselves thru healing our perspective. Our hearts can always break but there is a choice to make. A choice of whether you are going to be broken like your heart or you stand up and heal yourself. It is a choice to accept and to let go.
I have a lot of great memories with my grandfather and all my late grandparents. It is heart breaking to lose them one by one. But it is an honor and a blessing to feel the indescribable sweet love only grandparents can give. Tears may fall as I try to let go. But it can be tears of a broken heart and tears of a joyous grand daughter.
Life gives us only one choice at the end of all our experiences - death. But before the verdict, we live and we make the choice how to live it. The grandparents chose to love and they made legends of love that will be kept by each grand children as long as they live.
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