Time sure changes...and quickly. Sitting on the ground in this picture is me. Age six. I know this because this was the year we moved from Germany to the Philippines. It was also the year we spent a few weeks in Michigan before we left for the Philippines. The year I met my cousins. The year my grandparents, the two in the back, met my brother Jonathan...seated on my mother's lap. The last time they'd seen Christina (on Dad's lap), she was a baby. My mom is pregnant in that picture...with my brother Paul.
It's one of the last pictures that ALL of us took with my grandparents. Time changed quickly after we left. Now I look at that picture and become so nostalgic. Paul died before we even left the Philippines, Jonathan passed away in '88. Grandpa died in '92. And Grandma? She died September 27 of this year. Somehow I can still look at this picture and feel the love and the warmth.
After Paul died in '82, my mother moved Jonathan, Chris, and me back to the states. And our relationship with our dad deteriorated to stranger...his choice. It's funny, I'm not even angry anymore...it isn't worth it. But I think things would be very different if it hadn't been for Grandma. She's the one who made sure that we got to know that side of the family...even without my father being around. She made sure to have somewhere for us to go during the summer for a few weeks to spend time with her, my aunts and uncles, and my cousins. She made sure we knew we were loved and a part of the family. Because to her....that's what mattered. Love and family. Her life and her needs were simple. And I love her for it.
I was keeping my cool...for the most part. Until the morning of the funeral. Because I didn't get a chance to say goodbye I went early. I thought I'd be fine. Till I saw her, touched her hand, and said goodbye. At that moment I cried like a baby. So many things rushed into my head...things I'd wished I'd said, wished I'd done. And then it was like I could hear her voice telling me to stop. That she loved me...and she knew how much I loved her. Despite all the challenges in my life, she made sure I knew I was loved and accepted...as a child...and she'd not have me questioning that as an adult. And in walked my cousin, so like her mom, so like our grandma with her big heart...to give me a hug. And I let her go.
She had a grandmother's charm bracelet. They were popular back in the day. For every grandchild born, she'd buy a head (boy or girl depending on gender) and she'd have the child's name and birthday engraved on it. And on September 30, 2006, the day after we laid her to rest...I got my head back. She had that head for 33 years. And now it's mine. Getting that made everything seem so final somehow.
She will always be there with me in my memories. I'm just glad she's not in pain anymore and that I'd gotten a chance to know her.
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